Flash Fiction Horror for Black Harvest

Natalie and the Vampire

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799 words

Natalie and the Vampire

         After Natalie burned down the school, her mother moved out and Natalie was left all alone in the big house. She didn’t mind the isolation.

         She spent that day and the ones that followed cleaning out the house. Not a Bible, nor a cross remained when she was finished. She torched them and enjoyed the feel of the luscious warmth. Tiny sparks of Bibles danced in the breeze. Natalie kicked at them when they descended, grinding them into the dirt.

         She heard the bells the day the funerals took place. Natalie thought about going to see her enemies laid to rest. She sighed at the memory of the couple of kids who’d been "all right", but she was glad the others were dead. They deserved it. Let the townspeople have their funeral without her. Let them mull over the thought that there’d be more ashed corpses if people bothered her again.

         On Thursday, Natalie walked to the library, picking up books she liked, tossing down those which did not appeal. The librarians and readers had all fled, of course, and Natalie enjoyed having the shelves of books to herself. She crammed three paperbacks she’d decided to “borrow” into her backpack and walked out.

         The grocery store was about the same. The clerks fled, and Natalie took what she wanted: bananas, ice cream, chocolate syrup, nuts. She skipped the cherries and grabbed a jar of marshmallow glob. Much more interesting. On the way out she tossed a bag of barbecue chips and a box of candy bars into her backpack. She had enough meatloaf and frozen casseroles in the freezer to last a long time, thanks to her mom.

         The weeks passed in a sameness that Natalie didn’t mind. And then he came. At first she thought the man was a reporter. Some of them had stopped by, taking pictures, and getting in the way of her privacy. She’d torched a couple of them, and thus the others had stayed away. But this guy seemed immune to her reputation and, for some reason, only came at night.

         The man wasn’t bad-looking, but his eyes were creepy. Natalie studied him as he studied her. The inevitable confrontation came two days later.

         “I haven’t decided whether to keep you or simply use you a couple of times,” the man said with a mocking smile.

         Natalie bristled. She thought about sending a firebomb to melt his gorgeous wavy, black hair, but she held onto her temper, captivated by something in his delightfully evil eyes.

         “I haven’t decided whether to torch you or simply use you a couple of times,” Natalie replied, waiting to hear what he’d say.

         “May I come in?” he responded suavely.

         Natalie nodded. Their wooing was short. He confessed to being a vampire and to having been paid by the town to suck her into oblivion. Natalie bared her breasts and admitted that she was hot as blazes and ready for some sucking.

         Immediately after the communal “baring of breasts,” Carlos and she adjourned to the bedroom for violence, sex, flowing fluids, and writhing. When the eruptions were over, Natalie smiled contently, her only complaint being Carlos’ fascination with necks, and the way he kept urging, “Bite me. Bite me.”

         Later, they rose and showered. Carlos liked the water hotter than she did, but Natalie warmed him in another way, and he stopped complaining about cold water.

         For nine days Carlos and Natalie sipped and dined on lust, but then the man's demands at last overcame Natalie’s patience. “Bite me,” he said one time too many. Natalie, bored out of her gourd, bit him. Her teeth gnawed through skin and muscle. Blood burst into her mouth. It flowed across the bed, spurting onto the wall, the ceiling, and the floor. Natalie sucked, and Carlos whimpered oohs and aahs, his erection spewing like a fountain.

         It is said that vampires live forever, but Carlos faded fast. His desires have not yet abated, and he still murmurs “Bite me. Bite me,” but it is obvious that he is shriveling into nothingness. Because of this, the town has become famous. Natalie has been proclaimed the new vampire killer with whom poor Buffy cannot compare, and vampires are assembling in the town, drawn by the thought of such a delicious method of ending their eternal life.

         The townsfolk should be content. Natalie has not had the energy to torch a single body or building for weeks. Although the population of the living has decreased slightly, the cemetery is steadily growing more popular as a tourist hangout, and the walking dead and their vampire groupies are plumping the purses of the shop owners and innkeepers.

          The town, after all, is prospering nicely, and it's said that new erections have been seen everywhere.




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