Chapter 1
Miss Ediths' Idea
One would think that vampires would not have dreams, but she did. They were not always as horrid as the last few, some being very happy ones. But here lately, her dreams had been taking their toll. She lay in bed (yes, she slept in a big king size bed) wide awake wishing she could fall into a dreamless slumber. Every time she would close her eyes, she saw the muddy rolling river with all the screaming people washing down it. For the unlife of her, she couldn’t fathom in her mind why this would bother her. She was a very good killer herself. The Angel of Death she was called in England, The Crazy Living Dead Girl in America (although she thought the ‘crazy‘ part was a bit much). She had a reputation to uphold, and here lately, she hadn’t been living up to her reputation.
She had went out yet again this night to feed. She found a succulent morsel at the local skate park. He was young, tender and dumb, just how she liked them. He came to her willingly, kissed her passionately, and as she licked his neck to feed, the horrible vision returned.
She walked away, leaving him a bit hard and a bit confused. Ah, but wasn’t every thirty year old these days?
Thank the gods there was a blood bank not far from her flat that she could access. She took the cold bag home and heated it on the stove, not liking the way those new fangled micro things made the blood clot. She sat at her table and drank deep, with no visions or flashbacks of the dream…
………………………………..............
Things were not well, she surmised. Daddy had not been the same since his soul returned, and the love of her life was lying next to her dreaming of that wretched whore again. He never dreams of me anymore, she thought sadly.
Maybe if I dyed my hair blond? Or pretended to be human again…
She had written him a poem, a love poem and was so happy to want to give it to him, but then she had found the diary he had kept when he came to this place. It had poetry in it dedicated to her. She burned it, and when he asked nonchalantly had she seen it, she lied to him.
She rolled back over and clutched her favorite dolly. Her mummy had given it to her when she was very young.. not really, she thought again, she stole it didn’t she? The days and weeks, months and years, and centuries now seemed to meld together into one big cauldron.
“Miss Edith, would you mind dreadfully if Mummy made another playmate?” she whispered softly.
She smiled, listening intently to what the doll was saying…”Yes! Yes! Good idea Miss Edith! I knew I could count on you!”
She lay in the bed, smiling contently as she leaned over to kiss him, and cuddle her only friend. Her eyes finally got heavy, as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep…
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