"The Alleyway" by Emma-Jane C. Smith

The shadows of the alleyway flickered over the naked body of a child. She laid there, her chest not moving with life's usual rhythmic motions. A long, vicious gash ran from the side of her neck to the centre of her chest. It looked like someone had taken their rage out on the child. But in reality the reason behind the wound was far more intriguing…and far more evil….

Karen was on her way home from work. It was a cold night and she was sure it would snow before morning. She was sick of having to walk home on her own in the dark and in the cold, but thankfully her apartment was not too far away. Karen hoped her no-good boyfriend had made something warm for dinner, instead of the usual ‘get it yourself’, but she knew it was a vain hope. She snuggled deeper into her heavy coat.

Karen passed a dingy alleyway and glanced instinctively in, movement caught her eye. She stopped abruptly, scanning the deep shadows for the source of the movement.

“Hello?” Karen called, stepping cautiously into the alley.

She heard crying, a child weeping nearby. Her heart gave a lurch, something that always happened when she heard a youngster bawling their eyes out. She supposed it had something to do with her maternal instinct that, so far, had lain mostly dormant within her.

“Hello?” Karen repeated, louder. “Is someone there? Do you need help?”

The crying stopped and a small figure dressed in white, came out from behind a pile of boxes. It was a girl, dressed in a thin nightgown and clutching a bedraggled toy rabbit.

“Are you Lacksidire?” the girl asked, coming closer to Karen.

Her face was pale and white, her lips almost blue with cold. Dark liquid-brown eyes looked up at Karen, her wet cheeks glistening.

“Am I what?” Karen asked, confused.

The girl did not reply and so Karen took off her overcoat and quickly wrapped her up.

“You must be so cold!” she exclaimed, “Lets get you to a police station so we can find your parents.”

“Would you like to hold my hand?” the girl asked, as she looked up innocently at Karen.

Karen smiled.

“Of course I would.” She held out her hand to the fragile child.

As soon as their skin touched, Karen felt ice run through her veins. It was like walking naked out into a blizzard. Her eyes became unfocused, her vision blurred. She had no time to think before her mind became numb. Karen’s body went limp and fell to the hard road of the alley. Her blue eyes stared towards the sky but saw nothing.

The child stripped Karen’s body and gazed down at her lifeless form. It was a beautiful body; fresh skin, white and her head crowned in long, silky raven hair. The girl retrieved a knife from the pocket of her nightgown and knelt down beside her newest victim. She plunged the knife deep into the side of Karen’s throat and with surprising ease, carved a gash in her flesh. It began at the side of her neck and finished between her cold breasts.

There was no blood, having frozen solid within the woman’s veins when they had first touched. Now she was as icy as the remorseless child. As the girl worked she listened to the background noise of cars passing her alleyway. It was a nice sound, comforting, for it reminded her that there was never a shortage of people to capture.

The girl revelled in the feel of the dagger gliding though the flesh of her new conquest. The woman’s naked body was a mirror of perfection. A masterpiece. Even the torn flesh could not detract from the corpse’s beauty.

“Ishackanoosa,” the child whispered and watched as a thin thread of golden light lifted from the dead woman’s wound.

The light glowed softly in the dim alleyway, and warmed the smiling child. The golden thread lifted and as it rose, the girl leaned forward. It floated sedately into her mouth, and she swallowed.

For a moment there was a glow from the child, but then it faded into the night. The child no longer knelt beside the body; her life force transferred to that of the dead woman. Slowly the deep gash healed itself, sealing the girl’s life within its new host. She sat up.

The new Karen stood and dressed though she did not feel the cold. She made sure she did not button up the shirt completely, purposefully leaving plump cleavage visible. She stretched out her arms, feeling the difference in length, and stood cautiously, adjusting to the anatomy of the much larger body. The new Karen trailed her fingers over her full lips. She smiled. The body was a wonderful acquisition. The new Karen turned to the entrance of the alleyway and walked forward, looking for another human. She waited patiently, standing there for a few minutes before spying a man.

He was handsome, fit, and was gifted with vibrant red hair. The new Karen grinned hungrily with anticipation. He was heading in her direction. She watched him walk in the cold, wisps of fog coming from his mouth. It was warm breath, the same of which did not exhale from between the new Karen’s own ruby lips.

The man passed the alley, his head downcast against the freezing wind.

“Hello,” the new Karen called out.

The man stopped and turned.

“Hi,” the man replied, a smile instantly springing to his lips.

“I was wondering if you could help me.”

The man sauntered over to her, hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans. The new Karen could see his eyes twinkling with the possibility of intimacy. His eyes lingered long over her exposed cleavage and she felt his pulse heighten with excitement.

“And what would you be needing help with?” he asked, his eyes once more glancing down longingly at her pale breasts.

“Can I ask you a question first?” she asked, her eyes hungry.

“Sure.” He stepped in closer, his breath warming her icy face.

“Are you Lacksidire?”

“Lacks-what?”

“Never mind,” she said, dismissing it as if it had been of no consequence.

“So... did I pass? Can I help you with something?” his smile was confident, bordering on cocky. Unconsciously his tongue strayed from his mouth to wet his lips.

“Of course,” she responded, stepping in closer.

Their faces were now inches from each other. And she tilted her head to the side, giving him a flirtatiously coy smile.

“What’s your name?” she asked, running a finger down the fine cut of his jacket.

“David,” he replied.

“Then kiss me, David.”

First his hand wandered to cup one of her breasts in his hand; he squeezed tightly. Then David leaned forward and their lips touched.

A frosty chill ran from his lips to the rest of his body, freezing his heart into silence. He had no time to scream, there was only death. The new Karen held him close to her and pulled him deeper into the alleyway. She glanced briefly around, making sure no one had seen them. The new Karen had little fear of being discovered on the moonless night, but knew there were dangers out there for her.

Once she had retreated far enough into the dark alleyway, the new Karen let David’s body fall heavily to the ground. She removed his clothes and looked undauntedly at his well-muscled, once virile body. He was a good catch too.

The new Karen hadn’t scored such a powerful body for a long time. Hunger burned within her icy chest but did not melt her black heart. Once more she took out the knife, the hilt depicting a ghoul’s tormented face. Again she sliced deep, starting at the neck and making her way down to the middle of his chest.

“Ishackanoosa,” the new Karen whispered and watched the thin thread rise from the dead man’s unmoving chest.

She leaned forward and devoured it, consuming his soul. Then, as before, the exchange occurred. The new Karen vanished, allowing the new David to take her place. The reawakened man stood. He was eager for further conquests, for tonight seemed to be a night of possibilities. A night to hunt as a spider did.

The new David liked to wait, silently in the dark, waiting for someone to stray close by. Then, when the time was right, he would lure them closer, readying the trap. A touch was all he needed to ensnare his prey, to kill them by the spread of his icy web through their susceptible bodies. After he had succeeded in that, he could devour their succulent souls which fuelled his icy existence. With every new death, he became stronger, the shell of the host the bait for the next.

It was as the new David dressed, that a man entered the alleyway. He entered uninvited and with purpose. He appeared, intent on his task. The man was perhaps thirty years old and had dark wavy hair mostly hidden beneath a hat. The coat upon his back was dark, thick and sprinkled with snow that had just started to fall from the heavens. As he walked, his footsteps silent, he exuded a knowing confidence.

The new David looked up. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the stranger. There was something different about him, something knowing in his dark eyes. As the stranger strode closer he held out his open palm to the red haired man. In it was a dagger, the face of a howling ghoul on the hilt.

“Are you Lacksidire?” the new David asked.

“Yes, I am Lacksidire,” the stranger replied, “Come we must leave this place. You must not wander off too far again. In this world we must to stay together, if we are to survive.”

“Yes, Papa…” the other replied.

The two figures walked silently out of the alleyway, icy hand in icy hand.

The End

* Ishackanoosa: untranslatable incantation in their original language.


* Lacksidire: can be taken to be either the name of the father or as the name of their race.