Saturday, April 9, 2011

Dust

She was not perfect in her vigilance,

and now she sways like a drunkard.

He will not need that eye she took from him--

the Vampire Hunter sees in only one direction anyway, lackey that he is;

Besides, she gifted him a second mouth by opening his cheek,

so that he can spout doubletalk twice as fast.



She was not vigilant, and he struck at her a dozen times.

Now, his silver dagger hangs from her side like hideous jewelry--

with each step, it scrapes her black heart, and her lung has collapsed.

She and the Hunter now go their opposite ways, like idiot lovers,

bleeding, dizzy, diminished.



In her favorite shape as a black panther, she limps toward the coffee shop,

unable to use one front leg.

She lurches, stumbles, sees three of everything,

leaving a trail of blood down the sidewalk behind her.

Weak and compromised, she can't hold the shape shift,

and pitches into an alleyway as herself, on knees and one hand,

hearing passing college boys say "drunk bitch" and laugh.



Had the Hunter's aim been truer she would be dust--

as it is, she will die here in a few decades or a few minutes.

But no...

again she is up, thinking of her kitten friend Giuseppe Verdi, and she weaves and gasps her way to Danny's.

With the weight of her sluggish, cold-fingered body, she pushes open the door,

then lurches hard sideways, smashing the glass.

She falls and lies there like a broken figurine in a pile of glitter.



Chloe and the Succubus drag her inside and put her in a booth.

An enormous street person badly in need of a bath gets up from a nearby table and approaches--

it is Grigori Rasputin and they have met before.

"Little One," he says, laying his huge hand on her head. "You will not die."

Behind them, God the waitress looks on.

Perhaps she sent the Hunter.

Perhaps she called Rasputin.

Perhaps she is only a waitress, watching it all unfold like the rest of them.



From her back, the lights of Danny's look like the aurora to the Queen of the Vampires.

She thinks of the time she saw the Dead, and gave Jerry Garcia just the slightest nip on the throat,

but it seems so long ago now,

and nobody would want to hear about it again,

even if she could still talk.

_______

11 comments:

Brian Miller said...

aww...hope the kitty queen of the damned survived...imagine the trip it would be taking a sip of garcias blood, you probably would not see straight for weeks...

Patricia Caspers said...

He will not need that eye she took from him-- Perfection. Also, the second mouth.

This is really an amazing story. I do hope there's more.

hedgewitch said...

"..She falls and lies there like a broken figurine in a pile of glitter.." that image seems to sum it up for me. God the waitress a very nice touch also. But Rasputin is my favorite character here--he whom no one could poison since he had eaten it all before. I think he probably knows what he's talking about. Fine writing, my friend.

Sioux said...

I agree with Hedgewitch---Rasputin is a lovely inclusion.

"...so he could spout doubletalk twice as fast." A perfect line.

Lynn said...

I can just picture Danny's - great story, FB.

Ami Mattison said...

I too am struck by the missing eye and the second mouth--fantastic images. And of course, that broken figurine. A great installment of the QOTV stories!

ileana said...

You had me at "gifted him a second mouth by opening his cheek." Genuis, mi'ja, simply genuis.

Raven said...

Fantastic as usual. Sorry, I'm too tired and groggy for more. Hope she makes it. :)

ellen abbott said...

oh, dark.

what would happen to Danny's without the QOTV.

Lisa said...

some people don't deserve two eyes-
at the same time
i love the idea of the second mouth.
alot.
thank you :)

Mama Zen said...

I read this with horror that defies all description. No, no, and no!