Charlotte

Charlotte

Charlotte snuggled up to Jolene. The warmth of her body felt good. A faint floral scent lingered in the air. Charlotte wondered, is this what happiness is like? It had been so long since she had taken a regular lover, she could little remember. Since coming to this life, over a century ago, seeking happiness was not a priority, continued survival was.

Jolene worked hard. During business hours, going by the name Delilah, she looked out for her girls and watched over the saloon that bore her name. Now, she was Jolene again, deep in a richly deserved sleep.

The redness of her hair was just visible in the dim light. The paleness of her complexion seemed all the whiter.  The love the two of them shared made feeding from Jolene the most wholesome Charlotte could remember. Her johns were mere light snacks in comparison.

Charlotte brushed aside a lock of hair from Jolene’s cheek and kissed her delicately. Unable to sleep, she slipped out of bed and pulled on a nightgown. The only sound was the creaking of the building as it settled during the cold of the night.

She crept downstairs and found Vanessa sat at the card table with the barman, Josiah. Between them, a game of faro was lit by a couple of lamps.

“Join you?” Asked Charlotte.

“Sure,” replied Vanessa, “pull up a chair. Josiah is helping me practice. It is not as easy as it looks keeping an eye on the game and using these…” she pushed up her ample breasts, “…to distract the punters at the same time.”

Josiah smiled at Charlotte but she could see in his eyes it was insincere. “I am intruding,” said Charlotte, “I’ll go back upstairs.”

Vanessa was having none of it. “Nonsense, stay for a spell.”

Charlotte tried to protest. “But you and Josiah…”

“Don’t be silly,” insisted Vanessa, “sit yourself down.”

“All right,” agreed Charlotte with some reluctance. She watched as the two of them played the game. They seemed happy together. It was no secret that Josiah had taken a shine to Vanessa and Vanessa, in turn, enjoyed being with Josiah. Charlotte wondered if this was what the early stages of love looked like. This bond between the two of them might well do for Vanessa what feeding from Jolene did for Charlotte. This made her feel uncomfortable; she was most definitely intruding.

“Look you two, I am in the way, “ said Charlotte, “It is good of you both to let me stay. I’m gonna pop outside to get some air.”

“In that nightgown?” Said Josiah, “You’ll catch your death!”

Charlotte had forgotten she was only wearing a thin nightgown. Scant protection against the cold she did not feel.

“Why don’t you go upstairs to my room?” Suggested Vanessa with a wicked smile, “you can get ready for me. I’ll follow you up shortly.”

Josiah did not need to be asked twice. The game of faro was quickly forgotten and replaced with thoughts of other “upstairs” activities.

When he was gone, Vanessa leaned closer, “You’re not yourself, are you Charlotte? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing really,” said Charlotte, “I just feel a little restless.”

“How many decades have we known each other?”

Vanessa was right; they had known each other for a long time, longer than a normal human lifetime. They knew each all too well. She thought about what was on her mind and attempted to explain it. “Do you remember what it was like to be a normal human?”

“Yes,” replied Vanessa, looking confused, “I suppose I do.”

“Do you remember what it was really like? I have been in this life for so long, I don’t think I do. Not any more.”

“What has brought this on?” Asked Vanessa, clearly concerned.

“For the first time in a long time, I feel genuinely happy, at least I think I am. I’m not sure.”

“You are not sure you’re happy?” laughed Vanessa.

“Can we be happy, I mean really happy, as we are?”

“Something is obviously bothering you...” she let her words trail, waiting for Charlotte to tell her what it was.

“I remember that I enjoyed sex before I came to this life but I can’t remember what it was like. You have heard what I can do to Jolene but when she does it to me…” Charlotte knew Vanessa understood her frustration.

The mirth was gone now. Vanessa’s features hardened and became more melancholy. “You’re not normally like this. Has Jolene got under your skin?”

“That’s just it,” continued Charlotte, “she makes me happy. I make her happy.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve heard. We’ve all heard!”

“What I am trying to say is that it is incomplete. We are not whole, are we? We can’t enjoy a satisfying meal, get drunk or enjoy sex.”

“If, what I have heard is true, men like us can’t even have sex.”

Charlotte allowed herself a wry smile. “I am glad their bits don’t work either. Makes me feel a bit better about having to grease myself up. Speaking of which, you have a randy man upstairs wanting access to your bits that don’t work properly.”

“Well, I was lookin’ forward to joining him upstairs,” sighed Vanessa, “but you have thrown a dampener on it.”

“I’m sorry,” said Charlotte, meaning it. “Don’t listen to miserable old me. Go give your man a good time and have yourself a mighty fine feed. I’ll get me some air. It’ll do me good.”

Vanessa smiled sweetly. She stared into Charlotte’s eyes and there was a moment of genuine affection between the two of them. Their lips met for a short kiss, shared between old friends. Charlotte watched Vanessa head off upstairs. She thought about following her and returning to bed but decided that getting some air was what she really needed. Perhaps a short walk really would do her good.

She unlocked the main door and stepped out onto the saloon’s boardwalk. It was a cold (at least she assumed it was cold) moonless night. The only light in Brimstone was from the stars.

It was common for prostitutes to move around a lot. It was especially important for Charlotte and her three colleagues before the local population became suspicious of them. Life was good here and she did not want it to end. She wondered how long was too long. Pushing their luck was something the four of them were not on the habit of doing.

“Ma’am.”

Charlotte was startled by the voice. Lost in her own thoughts, Charlotte had not seen the young man. There were two of them. A second one had joined him from the other side of the building.

“You scared me.” Charlotte was sure her heart would have been racing if it still beat.

“My apologies, ma’am.” The young man raised his bowler. “We meant no harm.”

It was then that Charlotte realised how exposed she was. She wondered what these two men were doing skulking around the saloon in the early hours of the morning when all respectable people were home in bed. What a tortured word “respected” was. A man of the cloth might spend an evening with an upstairs girl and still be considered respectable but that girl could never lay claim to society’s respect. They were even denied hallowed ground as a place of rest after they died.

Her immediate intention was to dash back inside but the short conversation with the first man had distracted her for just long enough for the second one to grab a hold of her. He held her roughly with his hand over her mouth. She struggled but both were soon restraining her and she was no match for the two of them. The men forced her down to the ground, her face in the dirt. They bound her hands with some rough rope. Before long, she was gagged and dragged away.

She wriggled to try to get free but there was no escape. One of the men pinned her to the ground for some time. She felt a knee pressing on her back. Resistance was useless so she relaxed. How long before Jolene realised she was missing? How long before Bonnie came looking for her? Would they be in time? Charlotte resisted the urge to panic. Survive, that was the number one priority. Survive long enough to be rescued, assuming no opportunity presented itself to escape.

# # #

The men had placed a hood over her head, tied her to the back of a horse and taken her somewhere out of town. Charlotte presumed she was in the woods. If the three of them could not be tracked, she may never be found. Her legs were bound, the rope around her wrists was untied and she was re-tied with her back to a tree. The hood remained in place. There was no sound and no smell of a fire, perhaps not a wise move in a wild wood with wild animals but it did make them harder to spot.

They left her there for some time. No demands were made. No questions were asked. If the pair were murderers or rapists, they were taking their time. Perhaps they were just kidnappers expecting a ransom? There were footsteps and she heard the voices of two men muttering. They were too far away and speaking too quietly for her to make out any words. It was probably a good thing she was no longer bothered by the cold.

Finally, one of the men joined her at her tree. It was the one who had spoken to her outside of Delilah’s. “This is an unexpected surprise. We were casing the joint when one of the filthy whores walks out right in front of us. Caught us quite unawares you did.”

“If you wanted a...” Charlotte bit back her anger and outrage, “...woman, you need only have spoken with Delilah.”

The man laughed. She heard him spit. She did not feel it land on her so it must have been onto the ground. “We don’t want to catch no clap from no filthy whore. We wants to speak with four filthy whores in partickilar.”

“I’m very clean I bathe…” Charlotte was cut short by a punch to the stomach.

“You’re a filthy whore. Ain’t nothin’ gonna change that.” The man spat again. Charlotte chose to remain silent, which seemed to anger her kidnapper. “Say it whore, say ‘I’m a filthy whore.’”

“I’m…” stammered Charlotte, “I’m a… erm… a filthy whore.”

“That didn’t sound too convincin’ to me. Was that convincin’ to you?”

The other man, farther away, replied, “Nope.”

“Say it again!” He was stood right in front of her. Charlotte could smell his bad breath and stale sweat.

“Whatever you say,” whimpered Charlotte, “I’m a… a dirty whore.”

“Good,” said the kidnapper, who, thankfully, had moved away from her taking his stench with him. “Now we’ve got that out of the way it is onto the next order of business.”

Charlotte closed her eyes and braced herself for the raping and beating that was to come but neither of them touched her.

“Tell me about Ted O’Brien. Liked to call hissel’ ‘Tex’.”

Charlotte almost breathed a sigh of relief. It was not her the two men wanted, it was Tex. She wondered who they were, hired investigators or maybe bounty hunters? “He’s… he’s dead. Stole our whiskey and fell off a horse.”

“So you are one of the filthy whores what killed him.”

Charlotte protested, “We didn’t give him the whiskey. He took it, stole it from us.” What do these men want with Tex? Does he owe them money? These thoughts raced through Charlotte’s mind. “Don’t take my word for it. Go ask the Sheriff.”

“We know the official story, you stupid whore. We just don’t buy it.”

This was worrying. She wondered what these men knew or, more importantly, thought they knew about what really happened to Tex. There was no way that they had witnessed the four of them staging the accident; they would have acted much sooner. Only four people knew the truth about Tex’ murder and none of them had spoken to anyone else about it. “His body is in the cemetery. Father Blackadder did a service and everything. It was recorded in the church records and everything.”

The kidnapper responded by punching Charlotte in the stomach again. She stopped inhaling to prevent the stench of his breath entering her nose.

“Let’s go over the facts again, shall we? You can then tell me again what happened to Tex.” There was a pause. She heard him moving about and some shuffling. Perhaps he had sat down.

She wished they would take off the hood but then, perhaps, her chances of survival were better if she did not see their faces. Then she remembered she had seen them outside of Delilah’s. All I have to do is survive, she reminded herself. Survive.

“Right, where were we?” The man was definitely farther away and the source of his voice did seem lower like he was seated. “Four filthy whores came to Brimstone. No one invited them. They came anyway. The filthy whores sell themselves for a few cents. Tex comes along and makes a pimp of hissel’. I happen to know that filthy whores working the streets don’t make much. Seems to me that filthy whores making a few lousy dollars ain’t gonna want to share that with no pimp.”

“What you suggestin’?” Asked Charlotte, “Do you think we made Tex drink that whiskey and made him get on a horse?”

“What did I tell you?” The kidnapper called out, “I told you she’d be difficult.” To Charlotte, he said, “You ain’t gonna make me get up and hit you again are you?”

“No one suggested there was anything suspicious about Tex’s death. If there was, we were streets away. If he was done in, it was nothin’ to do with us.”

“You hear that? The filthy whore says he might have been done in.”

“You did say it was suspicious,” replied the second kidnapper.

“Hey, I didn’t say he was done in,” protested Charlotte, “I just said that if he was done in, it was nothing to with us.”

There were some more shuffling and sounds of movement. It sounded like her kidnapper had stood and was now pacing back and forth. For now, he was keeping his distance. “Let me tell you what I think happened. I think four filthy whores were tired of giving a cut to their pimp. One of the filthy whores offered her pox-ridden cunny to a man to solve the problem for them. You got Tex drunk. Somehow you lured him to the stockade and your whore-lovin’ accomplice did the dirty deed. Was it just one of you or did all you offer your cunnies?”

“Who in this town would kill a man for a dollar fuck and then keep quiet about it?” Charlotte did not consider herself to be the brightest button in the box but even she could see how ludicrous this man’s idea was.

The sound of pacing stopped. “That is a very good question. Are you giving your disease ridden bodies to your hired murderer, your accomplice, to keep him quiet?”

Charlotte chose her words carefully. “We hired no one. We did not kill Tex. Anyone who wants to get into my skirts has to pay ten dollars to Delilah.”

There was the sound of laughter. Charlotte was unsure from which of the two men. Then there were footsteps approaching. Her nightgown was lifted leaving her exposed. Normally, when a man saw her naked, she was in control. She could not recall a time when she felt this powerless and vulnerable. “Well, you’re wrong there. Right now, I can get in there for free.” It was the second kidnapper. She sensed glee in his voice. Her legs were still tied, so she thought that rape was not on their minds, just humiliation. “Looks clean to me. No scabs. No yellow ooze.”

“She may look clean on the outside but she is filthy on the inside,” said the first kidnapper. There was venom in his voice.

# # #

Time passed. It was difficult to gauge how long. It had been quiet except for the sounds of the forest. She guessed the two men had either slept or gone off somewhere and come back. Sleep seemed more likely. At various times she felt the enervating rays of the sun on her. Had she remained a normal human, she would have been stiff from being tied to a tree, barely able to move for so long. She had struggled against her bonds but to no avail. She guessed that her kidnappers were not watching her as no punishment was meted out.

Eventually, her captors returned. The first kidnapper resumed speaking with her. “Where were we? Oh yes. ‘Delilah’ otherwise known as Jolene White. I’ll be wanting to speak to her.”

Jolene? No! The thought of Jolene being put through this ordeal was unbearable.

“This raises possibility number two. Jolene arranged Tex’s murder. You did join her shortly after Tex was killed. She must have been desperate to recruit streetwalkers.”

“She’s done well since.”

“Has she? Sounds like she had a lot to gain from killing Tex.”

“Jolene is not like that. She is not a murderer!”

“Oh come now,” said the first kidnapper, icily, “everyone is a murderer. It is just a question of the right motivation. What would you kill for, whore? Money? Love? To protect the other filthy whores? To protect your madam, Delilah?”

Charlotte could not tell him the real answer: to survive, to survive by feeding. In the early days, the four of them had killed their prey but they had learned to feed little and often. Society does not like it when people die in unusual circumstances. It attracts attention. All she said was, “I don’t know.”

“So we now have two possibilities about what really happened. Either you and your three friends or Delilah killed him. Tex happened to be my brother and I ain’t gonna let no filthy whore get away wi’ killin’ ’im.” The kidnapper punctuated his words with another spit. “Now all I need you to tell me is which one is the correct explanation.”

“And what if the correct one is he got drunk and fell off a horse?”

Another punch landed on Charlotte’s stomach.

“So what you gonna do? Beat me till you get the answer you want?”

The kidnapper yelled into her face, “I want the truth, you dirty whore!”

“You have the truth.”

He punched her again.

“Who killed Tex?”

“He fell off a…” Another punch landed on her stomach cutting Charlotte short.

“Who killed Tex?”

“Which answer does not get me punched again?” Her stomach was hurting. She did not know how much more of this she could take. Hands gripped her throat. At least it was a respite for her stomach.

“Who did you get to kill Tex?” The kidnapper was angry.

The grip on her throat tightened; she was unable to answer. She squirmed against her restraints but it was useless.

He laughed. “You ain’t gettin’ away, whore.” A punch connected with her face. “You’re a dirty, filthy murderin’ whore and you’re gettin’ what’s comin’ to you. Once we’ve done with you, we’ll get the rest of ’em.”

Charlotte let out a cry of despair. “Look, mister, I don’t know where you get your idea’s but I ain’t no killer.”

Her face suffered another blow. She tasted blood in her mouth.

“What if she’s tellin’ the truth?” Asked the second kidnapper, still farther back. Charlotte guessed he wanted no part of beating a defenceless woman. This would not spare him from Bonnie’s wrath.

“Well, what if she is?” replied her abuser. “She’s just a dirty, filthy whore, no one’ll care.” He spat again. “Madam Delilah can replace her without even tryin’. Whores are a dime a dozen.”

Charlotte realised her best chance was to convince her captors that she had died. As long as they refrained from cutting her head off, she would survive this ordeal. She dropped her head and made a point of making a lot of noise like her breathing was laboured.

“I think, you’ve nearly...” the second man paused before finishing his sentence, like his words or his friend’s actions appalled him, “...killed her.”

She heard the first man spit. “We can’t have her gettin’ away and warnin’ her friends.”

There was a stabbing pain in her gut. She yelped in both surprise and at the pain. Consciousness drifted away.

# # #

When Charlotte awoke she was no longer bound to the tree but still unable move. She felt a terrible weight all around, pinning her immobile. Breathing was impossible, though, fortunately, unnecessary.  With a mixture of horror and relief, the realisation hit that she had been buried. With luck. it was only a shallow grave.

The ground was oppressive. It resisted her attempts to wriggle free but slowly and surely she gained purchase. Her right hand worked its way upwards. How long this took, she could not say but eventually, she breached the surface. She pushed the soil away, enlarging the hole. Finally, she had done enough and she was able to pull herself free of the ground.

Looking all around, everywhere looked the same, trees, trees and yet more trees. There was no way of telling which way was home. Home, she had not thought of anywhere as home in a long time. To find a place she could call home and have someone deprive her of it by murder was beyond cruel.

Hunger tightened its grip but there was no opportunity to feed here. A wild animal in the woodland would keep her going but she lacked the skills to catch one. It would take a human to restore her. The only place she knew where she could gain such sustenance was back at Delilah’s.

Charlotte lay down on her back and looked up. As time passed she was able to track the course of the sun across the sky. From this, it was possible to work out which way was East and which West. Once she was sure of her bearings, Charlotte made her way South, the approximate direction of Brimstone. It did not take long to reach the edge of the woodland. She kept going knowing that she would either catch sight of Brimstone or the railway line that ran through it. Sure enough, the train line was ahead and she could see Brimstone to her left.

By now, the sun was on the verge of setting. She thought it better to approach under the cover of darkness; walking into town dressed in nothing but a filthy nightgown would raise questions she preferred remain un-asked. It was better to avoid being seen. Besides, the men, who thought they had killed her, were almost certainly around somewhere and she most definitely wanted to avoid them.

A little rest would not do any harm, so she waited for the sun to set. The feeling was a strange one: as the last of the sun’s rays disappeared, she felt a renewed strength, but the hunger remained undiminished. With superhuman speed, she ran to the edge of town. Carefully, she made her way between the buildings until she got to the rear of the saloon. It was good to see her home again. She took a moment to enjoy the feel of the texture of the wooden wall.

The back door was locked. Perhaps they were being more cautious after her disappearance. She knocked on the door. A female voice answered, “Go away. If you want booze, go in the front.”

“It’s me, Charlotte,” she said. The words were hoarse. Her throat was dry. “Let me in.”

Silence. Charlotte looked around nervously, wondering what was taking so long. Finally, the door opened and she saw the oversized figure of the doorman, Big John West. Before Charlotte could say or do anything, Big John scooped her up in his arms. His face was a mixture of joy and concern. “Charlotte, where’ve you been? What happened to you?” He plonked her unceremoniously down onto a chair.

The urge to bite Big John and feed was strong but she held back. “I was kidnapped. Managed to get away. Left me for dead.”

“Wait here.”

He left her there with the cook who said, “Can I get you anything? You look terrible.”

“No,” said Charlotte, “no thanks. Just need some rest.” thinking about how she really wanted to feed on the cook.

“Here, let me clean you up. Good Lord, is that blood? What happened to you?”

“Long story,” replied Charlotte, not in the mood for speaking. Though, she allowed the cook to wipe her face clean.

Jolene charged into the room and yelped with delight. Before she knew what was happening, Charlotte found herself in a hug and her face swamped with kisses. Tears of joy fell from Jolene’s eyes.  “What happened to you? We’ve been so worried. Half of Brimstone has been out searching for you.”

“Kidnapped. Two men. Taken by surprise. Talked about Tex O’Brien. Coming for you. Think we killed him.”

“What?” Asked Jolene. “Who are these men? What did they look like? Jesus! You’re bleeding. Do you want me to get Lazaroo?”

“Not sure. Happened so fast. Kept me hooded. Stabbed. All right now. No Doc.”

“Come on, let’s get you upstairs. We need to get you cleaned up.”

“No. Might be in saloon. Kidnappers mustn’t see me.”

“Joshua is in,” said Jolene, “he was most distraught to learn you had vanished.” To the cook, she said, “Jayne, he wants some Irish stew.”

“Coming right up,” replied the cook. “I offered to make something for Charlotte but she didn’t want nothin’.”

“That’s fine,” replied Jolene, “you see to the stew, I’ll make sure Charlotte is all right.”

Charlotte looked at the porcelain white skin on Jolene’s neck and thought about her hunger.

# # #

Charlotte had remained hidden in the kitchen until the saloon had emptied. The owner, Irish Jake, concerned about Charlotte, checked in her periodically.

Irish Jake had met with the two soldiers who had come into the saloon a couple of days ago. They were looking for two deserters, Private George O’Brien and Private Thomas MacKenzie. They had visited the sheriff too. They had the names of Charlotte’s kidnappers.

Jolene and all of her girls made a fuss over Charlotte. She enjoyed being the centre of attention. They brought hot water upstairs so that she could have a bath. All were keen to hear about her ordeal and how she had managed to escape. She told the basic truth, just leaving out certain details that would sound implausible if she were a normal human. She reserved those extra details for the ears of Jolene, Faith, Vanessa and Bonnie.

Bonnie was, predictably, furious and wanted to bury the two of them alive with their testicles stuffed into their mouths. Charlotte did not doubt for a second that Bonnie was ready. willing and able to commit such an enormity on those two men.

The five of them were together in Charlotte’s room. She still had not fed; her hunger was getting worse. She was led in her bed with the others gathered around her.

“Until we find those two men, you will have to stay up here,” said Jolene, “we don’t want to risk them seeing you.”

“What about my customers?” Asked Charlotte.

“They think you have been kidnapped,” replied Jolene, “it will have to stay that way for now. I’ll have to feed you. Just me. Keep your door locked during business hours.”

Charlotte nodded.

Jolene turned to Bonnie. “What are we going to do about these two men? George blames us for the death of his brother. He ain’t going away any time soon.”

Bonnie seemed uncharacteristically cool. Perhaps she was saving her wrath for the two men after she got her hands on them. “I bet they are camping out in the woods, They must know they are being hunted as deserters. We could search there for months and not find ’em. If they do have murderin’ on their minds they’re gonna have to come back. They nabbed Charlotte off the street. I think we need bait to the bastards out.”

“Are you suggesting that one of us acts as a lure to draw out these blackguards?” Asked Faith, making no attempt to mask her disgust.

“Got any better ideas?”

“These men are vicious thugs. We need a better plan than putting our persons at risk.” Faith turned to Jolene. “What do you think we should do?”

“We need to think about this and plan it carefully,” replied Jolene. “We don’t want anything to go wrong. Charlotte was lucky. Their next victim might not be.”

“The voice of reason!” Exclaimed Faith.

“Alright, alright,” conceded Bonnie, “we won’t use one of as bait. The only other way is to lure them into the saloon.”

“They were skulking around after hours,” added Charlotte.

“This sounds better,” said Jolene. “If we can get George and Thomas in the building, we can create an area we control. Outside, anything can go wrong.”

“You persuaded me,” said Bonnie, “How do we lure them. Let it be known that Charlotte survived and hope they come looking for her so she can’t identify them?”

“I doubt that is a good idea,” replied Faith. “It is unlikely that anyone would believe their story of a buried woman coming back but it would be better if the subject never arose.”

“I think you are right,” agreed Jolene. The others nodded. “I’ll go and see the sheriff tomorrow and get descriptions of these two men. Perhaps, he will have a wanted poster with their pictures on, I can offer to put up downstairs. At least then, we’ll definitely recognise them.”

“Once they are inside,” said Bonnie, “it is just a question of ambushing them. We can then tie them up and have the bastards at our mercy.”

“And then we can bury them,” said Charlotte, “alive.”

“I like it,” said Bonnie, with a sadistic grin on her face.

“I’ll leave it up to you,” croaked Charlotte, “I’ll be in my room. Jolene, don’t be going to the Sheriff’s on your own.”

Bonnie, Faith and Vanessa got up and left Jolene and Charlotte alone.

# # #

“They’re ready for you.” Normally, Jolene was so sweet, a kind-hearted soul who would help anyone, well, almost anyone. Right now, her green eyes were cold and devoid of any emotion. Deep inside of her, there was a darkness, a darkness that frightened Charlotte. It made her wonder what she would be like if she were brought over into her life.

After what this inhuman man had done to her, Charlotte relished the idea of revenge. Now that the time had come, she had no appetite for it.

“You all right?” Asked Jolene.

“No,” said Charlotte, “I don’t think I am.”

“George is waiting for you.” Charlotte looked into Jolene’s eyes but the woman who looked back was a stranger to her.

“I know, its just…” Charlotte struggled to find the words.

“There is no need to be afraid. He is tied up good and proper. I’ll be with you.” There was a reassuring squeeze of her hand.

“It is not that,” said Charlotte. “I don’t want to become like him.”

The expression on Jolene’s face warmed. Her signature smile returned. The darkness was banished, for now. “That’s good, but you do know he has to die. It is for your, our protection.”

“I know.”

“Come on. I’ll be with you. We’ll all be with you.”

They both went down into the saloon. Charlotte’s kidnappers were tied to chairs and gagged. One of the men had a face that was badly swollen and bruised on the left side. It distorted the shape of his mouth. He had already sampled Bonnie’s wrath. The other hung his head.

Watching over them were Bonnie, Faith and Vanessa. The look of horror and surprise on the face of the bruised man was priceless. He struggled against his bonds but they had done a good job of securing him. Bonnie grabbed hold of his hair and pulled his head backwards. She looked straight down into his eyes and said, “Yes, George, she is still alive. You failed to kill her. No wonder you deserted. You must have been a lousy soldier. You want me to soften him up before you get your revenge, Charlotte?”

George let out a whimper. Charlotte saw fear and hatred in his eyes. “No need to worry George, I’m not going to torture you. The plan was to beat you to within an inch of death and then to bury you alive.”

“With your balls in your mouths,” added Bonnie.

He squirmed again biting against his gag. He glared at Bonnie with naked fear.

“However, I am going to give you a quick and merciful death,” continued Charlotte.

George struggled against the ropes but they held fast.

“Keep still,” said Bonnie, “there’s a good condemned man.” She put more emphasis on the word “condemned” than was necessary but it had the desired effect on George. She pushed him back and made way.

Charlotte went up behind George. She pushed his head to one side and bit his neck. The strong emotion of his fear was satisfying. It reminded her of the old days, now a century ago when they fed on their victim’s fear. As she drank she could feel his life ebbing away. His strength and vitality ebbed away and flowed into Charlotte. Blood trickled down his chest and stained his already filthy shirt.

Thomas could see what was happening and struggled furiously to get free. He made some muffled cries but it was futile. Charlotte ignored him as she continued to feed. George weakened. As his life waned, so did his fear and act of taking his blood was less nourishing. All of George's fight, the unsuppressed anger and hatred faded. Now he was just the shell of a man, hanging on precariously to life.

Charlotte stood and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I am done. Who’s next.”

Vanessa drank next, followed by Faith. Bonnie took her share.

“Finish him,” said Charlotte.

Bonnie grabbed hold of his neck and squeezed the last vestiges of life out of him. Thomas, with panic and fear in his eyes, frantically tried to speak, but the gag reduced his words to formless muffles.

Charlotte pulled up a chair and sat in front of him. She looked him squarely in the eye and smiled. She said, “As far as I can tell, you did nothing to hurt me when we in the woods. I am sorry we have to kill you but it will be quick and it will be painless.” She nodded to Bonnie.

“Not so fast!” Faith said, interceding between Thomas and Bonnie. “I’m still hungry.” She bit his neck.

When she had had her fill, Bonnie grabbed hold of Thomas’ head. With a quick twist and jerk, there was crack and it was over. The head flopped and settled at an unnatural angle.

With a heavy heart, Charlotte left the saloon and returned to her room. If she had been able to cry, tears would have been shed. That release was denied to those who crossed into her life.

There was a knock at the door. “Can I come in?” It was Jolene.

“I’d sooner be alone.”

“All right. I’ll see you in the morning.”

A solitary tear trickled down her left cheek. Charlotte caught it with her finger. She put it in her mouth. It tasted salty. It was the first tear she had shed in over a century.

# # #

Charlotte brushed aside a lock of red hair and kissed the sleeping Jolene on her forehead. She climbed out of bed, pulled on a night robe and crept downstairs. As she had hoped, Vanessa was downstairs with Josiah.

“Hi Charlotte,” said Vanessa, “Josiah is teaching me a new game, poker.”

Charlotte sat next to Vanessa and looked at the cards she was holding. “How do you play?”

“You have to get certain combinations of cards,” replied Vanessa, “the one with the best combination wins all of the money bet.”

“Sounds complicated,” said Charlotte.

“It is not too bad once you have learned the hands,” said Josiah.

“It’s a more interesting game than faro but harder to learn,” said Vanessa. “I am not very good. If I played for real, I would lose everything I own!”

“There are other things you could wager, rather than your dresses,” said Josiah with a salacious smile.

“Oh, you think I am the type of woman that would bet her honour at a card table?”

They both laughed.

“I’m sorry to intrude,” said Charlotte, “but I want a quick word with Vanessa. In private.”

“I’ll get me a snack,” said Josiah and left for the kitchen.

“What’s on your mind?” Asked Vanessa.

“Something very strange just happened,” said Charlotte.

“Oh?” Asked Vanessa, “Flame going out with you and Jolene? You were quiet tonight.”

“That’s just it,” said Charlotte, “it was different. Less passion and more… erm… tenderness.”

“I wish Josiah was like that,” said Vanessa, shaking her head, “he just hammers away at me. No tenderness at all. Still, the eatin’s good, so shouldn’t complain.”

“Jolene likes to get involved, even though it doesn’t do anything for me,” Charlotte continued, hardly able to contain herself. “I had a reaction. It felt good.”

“You did?” Asked Vanessa, with surprise written all over her face. “What happened?”

“My nipples. It was incredible,” replied Charlotte, beaming like a young girl in the thrall of her first love.

“Did anything happen..?” Vanessa pointed downwards as she asked the question.

“No,” replied Charlotte, a little deflated.

“What do you think it means?”

“Either people like us can feel something, it is just much, much harder or I am turning back.”

They were interrupted by the return of Josiah. “I found some stew. It is not warm but it’ll do for some supper. I don’t suppose you want to share? Didn’t think so.” He answered his own question without waiting for either of his companions to respond. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have an after-hours session with this lovely lady to win.”

“Don’t win too much time with her,” joked Charlotte, “you don’t want to be tiring her out. She has a living to earn.”

Other stories set in Brimstone: "Father Nathaniel Blackadder", "Jolene White", "Hubert Alderman", "Bonnie", "Bartholomew Carlisle" and "Ingrid Baxter".