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".
