Author Archives: krischarlesauthor

Kris Charles is a pen name. She lives in Iowa. She enjoys music, baking, and playing with a Pup named Milo Roy. Katy Lily was her first major story, starting in 1992, it was told as a verbal story to her youngest brother. Parts were used as short stories for classes from grade school to College. And now, all ten year of Katherine Lillian’s Life will be published for the world to read. Kris is also the author of A Guardian’s Life Saga; first novel is The Seven Deadlies. The author of The Keepers Trilogy; first novel is The Keepers and the Sisters of Lilith. Others coming soon include Darkened Grace and Praying.

Monster University- Frank

“What do I know about love and pain? What does anybody know about love and pain? I don’t know the pain of birth, of the start of life. I don’t know the pain of death. I never will. I was created. From parts of people who know the pain of birth, of life, of death. Those that knew love. But I have no soul. The people who once owned my body parts did, they could feel love, but I cannot. My ‘father’ created me hundreds of years ago. His death that night the village found out haunts me to this day. Is that love? I am haunted by his death. All their deaths. By my life. Is that Love?”

Frank looked at the clock and knew it was time to prepare for the day. He put his journal away; he placed it in his drawer on top of his father’s journals; the ones that had all the notes that caused Frank’s existence. He slammed the door, a little hard, and locked the drawer. He looked in the mirror, his skin had a light green tint, but it was nothing a bit of make-up could not hide. He had gotten very good at hiding the color of his skin. It took a lot more time to hide his stitching, but he had taken to wear long sleeve shirts and pants no matter the temp; after all, he was room temperature. He was dead. With no circulating blood. No soul.

He didn’t have to hide his bolts too much anymore. Thankfully strange and exotic piercings are popular during this time, and most people see them as a piercing. They always asked if his favorite book is Frankenstein. Frank hated that book. It made his father and himself as monsters. Well, that night he was when they killed his father. He killed the village. Mary Shelley was the only survivor. She wrote their story. He should have killed her. But she was a young child. He couldn’t bring himself to kill the child. After all, the death he has caused, he still hasn’t ever killed a child. He never would.

He looked at the note that Cameron had left for him. Something about picking up milk for some meal he wanted made tonight. Well, Cameron can cook for himself. The boy king got on Frank’s nerves. But he would be lost without him, Lucas, and Drake. They all met a few hundred years ago. Well, he first met Cameron. He used to be Tutankhamen. Frank had been wondering around Europe, looking for a place to live, when he ran into him. He took pity on the monster and invited him to stay with him. Frank didn’t know what pride was then and jumped at the chance. He barely could speak at the time. However, with Cameron’s help, he became highly educated. He sighed. Sometimes the boy king got out of control, only one that could control him was Nefertiti; sadly she didn’t come around often. He actually got on well with the Great Royal Wife. Of course, the fact Nefertiti, who now goes as Naome, was his mother and an ancient ruler herself, it was no shock she could reign in her son.

Education their path to living in mainstream America; moving here may not have been the best idea. Many people are too curious about newcomers, but on a college campus the majority of people are new, so it was easy to come up with a generic story to tell them about where they were from. Frank looked at himself in the mirror, his green skin now covered, and he was set to go about his day. But he was still upset, as he was every morning, but before he could be buried in his thoughts a thud brought back to life.

He saw Tony’s truck outside and remembered that Drake had a party last night. Frank found it easy, too easy most of the time, to turn a blind side to Drake’s parties. But what do you expect from a soulless creature? Of course, without Tony and Bo; they would never be able to live their half way normal undead lives. Tony, Bo, and many others make their lives almost seamless. If it wasn’t for the rash of bodies after they entered town or left town it was almost easy to forget they were monsters. Frank stood up and grabbed his books, took one last look in the mirror and left.

Lucas looked up. “Hey, man, the full moon is in a couple of days. I suggest staying in man.”

“Of course, Luc. Don’t get shot this time. I may have learned medicine and have my MD but patching you up isn’t something I enjoy doing.” He moved to the fridge to start breakfast.

“Funny you took after your creator.”

“I was called Frankenstein’s Monster, Luc. Victor Frankenstein created me. I couldn’t take his last name because of the taboo and that blasted book, but I could take Frank. It is all I really understood anyway when Cameron found me.”

“Hey I get it, don’t worry. Hey, Darin is going to be moving in next week.”

“Darin?” He looked up from where he was cutting bacon.

“Dorian. He is Darin Black now instead of Dorian Gray. Seriously, he can annoy me at times with his name changes.”

“He fix that little problem he had of half his face turning into a skeleton?”

“Sorta. Once a month under the new moon he will have to deal with it. No big. We all have our issues with the things that go bump in the night.” Lucas laughed at his own poor joke.

Frank rolled his eyes as he flipped the eggs. “Seriously, centuries later and your bad jokes have gotten no better.”

Lucas laughed. “I am funny as hell. You are just envious. I will talk to you later, monster man!” He got up and ran out the door.

Frank moved to finish his breakfast and then went to class. He was set to be a classic literature major this time around. He hadn’t had a chance to look at the syllabus, just grabbed the bundle at the bookstore. He left for his first cclassintroduction to classic lit. Oh, so fun. He was around when all these books were written. Hell, he knew most of the writers! He moved and sat down in a middle seat. Middle seat dwellers always had less attention. He saw the teacher walk in. She reminded him of somebody. But he couldn’t place who; well that would bother him all flipping day.

“Hello class! My name is Professor Mary Sheldon! We are going to start with the book that got me into classic lit! Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein!”

Frank groaned. Not again! He couldn’t take that bloody book again. He would just pull out a damn paper he wrote and turn it. He should have killed the kid, or at least taken it and raised it so that blasted book that painted him in such an unpleasant light never existed.

The professor looked at him. “Something wrong with the book choice, Mr…” She waited.

“Victorson. Frank Victorson.” Frank answer. “And everybody forces us to read this from Middle School on. And everybody has the same thoughts. The monster was at fault and had to be destroyed. So killing Viktor Frankenstein and his creation were the right things to do. And it shocked them that the monster lashed out and destroyed and killed the people of the village.”

Mary raised an eyebrow. “And you have a different viewpoint, Mr. Victorson?”

“Possibly.”

“Stay after class.” She stated and then started her lecture.

Frank waited and at the end of class stood there. “Well, Professor?”

“I don’t really like your attitude about a great novel!”

“You don’t have to. You just have to grade me fairly on the work I do. Now if you excuse me, I have to get to my next class.” Frank stated.

“I am going to ask you to keep an open mind about this novel. It really is a piece of history.” Sheldon stated.

“I will not change my stance.” Frank left then.

Over the next month, as they broke down Mary Shelley’s lies of that night, Frank couldn’t help but feel as if Sheldon was stalking him. He was finding her everywhere, from his math classes, to outside his house, to the restaurants he went to with the guys. He was sitting with the guys at Morgan’s (pretty much the only place they went) and told them. “Seriously, my professor is stalking me!”

“Dude maybe she has a thing for students. Talk her up.” Lucas stated as he smacked his lips at his ‘mooing’ steak. “God, Morgan knows how to make a steak!”

“Considering how many ‘dogs’ she gets in here, I would hope she could make a steak.” Drake sneered.

“Oh, come on Drakey! Lighten up! Life is good!” Lucas held up his beer.

“We are dead Luc.” Frank still tapped his beer to Lucas’, “and we tend to be the monsters.”

“Monsters! We are gods!” Cameron laughed. “I mean, we live forever! We have money, power, looks, and we are the envy of men of campus!”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Yes Boy King, we get it. Maybe some of us didn’t want this?”

“What did you want, Frankie?” Cameron sneered. “You wouldn’t have gotten life without being created!”

Frank growled. “I may not have been born but even a ‘monster’,” he spat the words, “like me has wants.”

“Like what kids? A wifey?” Cameron rolled his eyes.

“I can’t have kids, but I wouldn’t mind someone to spend my undead life with. Don’t you want someone?”

“Nah. I am good. They would get on my nerves after too long.” Cameron flirted with the waitress across the room.

“Luc?” Frank looked to his friend, his best really.

“Yeah, wolves mate for life. And it is for life. So right now I have to be very sure before I bring someone into this life, Frank. But I get you.”

Drake sighed. “I don’t want to damn anybody to this life.”

“Please, at least you haven’t evolved into an Incubus yet!” Lucas laughed.

“Oh, but won’t that be fun when he does! Think about it! We can have orgies on Halloween! And all those other holidays!” Cameron laughed as he drained his beer.

“Seriously Boy King, you need to stop thinking with your smaller head.” Frank stated and rolled his eyes.

“Ah, but brother sex, drugs and rock n roll!” Cameron cheered and signaled the waitress for another beer.

The men rolled their eyes at the Boy King but toasted and continued their meal.

Frank was leaving with Lucas and pointed out a woman following them. “See Luc, behind us.” He whispered below human hearing.

Lucas stretched and turned his head to see her. “Man, she looks familiar.”

“Yeah she reminds me of somebody too. But I can’t quite grip the memory.”

“Spooky man; especially with what your maker did with your brain. Some of the best of your time’s smartest minds.”

“Yeah. Let’s go, I do have a paper to turn in on my supposed badass self.” Frank laughed and clapped Lucas on the back.

Lucas laughed. “For a soulless creature you are at least a decent monster. I got class tomorrow too.”

Frank turned in his paper; arguing that the monster wasn’t a monster. Humans were the veritable monster that night and the monster couldn’t kill the child because even soulless he had somewhat of a conscience. That humanity is the veritable monsters in the book; but written to view them as the heroes. After all, only one moment in time can change a hero to a villain and a villain to a hero.

The next week Mary Sheldon called out as he was leaving. “Mr. Victorson! Stay back, please.”

Frank waited and watched her lock the door. “Well, Professor, what do you want?”

Mary walked over to her desk and picked up a knife. “My ancestor was Mary Shelly. She has a picture of the monster that killed her family.” She slapped a photo up on her board. “Funny how if you add a bit of make-up it looks like you.”

“Oh please; you believe in immortality, little girl?” Frank sneered.

“I believe in monsters. And I heard from you and your little friends on how you were built. That you creator, that Frankenstein killed the brightest of my ancestor’s time! A monster ripped apart my ancestors! Left my many great-grandmother to die!” She brought out a knife and tried to stab Frank.

Frank sneered as the knife entered his chest. He grabbed the wrist of the woman. “Wrong move, little girl! I am already dead. And they were already dead when he took their parts. You can’t kill the dead.” He whispered as he grabbed and pulled; ripping her arm off. He allowed her a moment to scream. He then took his large hand and wrapped it around her throat. “Good bye Miss Shelley.” And ripped out her throat; dropping it on the ground. He listened to her gurgle her last breaths.

He moved to leave and place a call to Tony when he heard a faint crying. He turned and sneered at the bleeding body. He bent under the desk; there was a babe. Barely a few months old. He looked at the tiny thing that looked at him with eyes as green as his skin. He sighed and picked up the phone. “Tony; Classic Lit Hall. Body. Full clean up…” He paused for a moment. “That is it, Tony.” His choice made. He hung up to place another call. “Bo…” He sighed. “I need to make a kid mine…” Frank smirked. A child. One to make immortal and be his child. After all, there were ways to make children immortal. They would grow until they were sixteen through twenty-one; then stop aging. Of course the ritual that Frank had in mind needed the heart of fifty new mothers and twenty five nuns; but a small price to pay for his child’s immortal life. A trip to the closest major city was in order.

Monster University- Draco

“I have always been dangerous. I have always only carried for my needs, my wants, my desires, and most of all I did what I wanted when I wanted, even who I wanted. This curse annoys me to no end. I can’t believe it has been twenty years since I last killed my shot at redemption. This twenty-year cycles continue to haunt me. I find her. And instead of trying to gain forgiveness, I took her by force. Then she refused to forgive me the bloody witch. So I killed her. Then for five years I spent my life as a bloody Mugwump! I was such an ugly bird, and I am forced to sit on a fence with my head leaning over one edge and my ass over the other. Only children can see me, and they laugh at me. After that five years, I am once again a man. Then I have fifteen years to find her and seek forgiveness. But I never look until she is eighteen; then I hire Bo and his private investigator to find her. If at the end of the twenty years, if I haven’t found her, I turn to a Mugwump and she mysteriously dies, and it starts all over again. Well, she is twenty now and maybe I will finally learn my lesson.”

Draco threw his journal into his drawer. He looked at the little dorm room that he was in. Why they choose this little bitty town of Prairie Rapids Crossing and the college here, he would never know. But Bo suggested it, and nobody bet against Bo. He has been their lawyer for centuries. The only other one that they depended on as much as Bo and each other was Tony and his son… or was it his nephew? Who cared? Draco thought. He looked at his set of journals going back from when he was named Griffin to now where he was Draco.

Unfamiliar names, unknown pasts, he needed them more than the others. He never learned to control the anger and monster inside of him. He might never learn to control it. Mostly because he was trying to gain forgiveness from the blasted witch that cursed him.

She was reincarnated each time and wouldn’t gain her memories until he asked for her forgiveness. He looked down at his schedule. Since he generally only lived as a human for fifteen years out of every twenty he was a transfer senior. He would graduate this year. He would also more than likely be dying within the next few months as well.

Well, dying was such a harsh term. Turned into a blasted ugly monster of a bird and forced to sit on a damn fence was what really happened. He sighed as he stood and went to his air brushing machine with inks and dyes. He put on the fake skin over his actual skin and air brushed life into his fake exterior.

He hated being invisible. He barely remembered what he looked like anymore. He had long ago figured out how to move in society thanks to the underground group of ‘monsters.’

They were soulless beings and monsters, but some liked to think they were misunderstood. Frank was one of them. Though he just rips the throats out of the people who annoy him. Though he heard Frank was trying something new. He should go visit the man and the annoying screaming machine he seems to have adopted. He finished his application and put on a pair of pants and a white button-down. He smirked as he messed with his wig. It was almost the same color as the hair he was born with. He created a very hot man. Now to go and woo that damn reincarnated witch.

Draco watched her. He bar-tended on campus. It allowed him to see all the students and compare them to the witch. She always looked the same. Short. Black hair. And these honey burgundy eyes that cost a man his soul. Everybody wants blonde, blue eyed leggy models, but a short brown-eyed girl will give their hearts and souls to the people who own her heart. He learned that well. So well in fact that to cross one of these witches it would cost one any semblance of a normal life. He was brought out of his thoughts by the phone ringing. “Jo’s Pool Hall.” He answered.

“Dragon! Is Jo there?” Draco winced, hearing Kat’s voice. She was more of a seductress than Jo, and Jo was a Succubus. The fact Kat was also the famous Voodoo Queen Marie LaVeau also made Draco want to run far, far away. Kat owned the local bookstore and was best buddies with Jo.

“Jo is busy now, Catherine.” He stated.

“Ahh, did she find a source for tonight? Pity, I was hoping to double date. I met some fresh meat.” She gave a chilling laugh.

Draco shivered. “She is busy tonight. Try tomorrow.”

“Good bye my darling Draco. Pity, I can’t reverse your curse just to have a chance at you.”

Draco never was so thankful for his curse. “I have to go, Catherine!” He yelled and slammed down the phone. Draco shivered again and turned at a yell of ‘Hey!’ He turned and blinked. There she was. That blasted reincarnation of the witch that destroyed his life. She was quite ‘painted’ tonight. Of course being as old as I am I call all make-up painted. Today’s society would call it barely there. He moved down. “How can I help a darling out?” He drawled.

“Three tequila shots and three Long Islands.” She stated.

“I am Draco, darling, and your name so I can know who to run the tab under?”

“Flo. Now hurry up, Draco, I haven’t all night.”

Yep, still a bitch. “Coming right up Flo.” He makes the drinks and sends them on their way. He spends the rest of the night making a pro and con list of being stuck as a Mugwump for five years again.

For the next three weekends, Draco tried to get somewhere with the witch. He was nice, bought her drinks, helped her with her damn chemistry homework! “Want to go to dinner, Flo?”

Flo laughed. “Oh honey, you are not getting anywhere with me. You know your chemistry and seem to be loaded. I am just using you.”

Of course, Draco saw red and left. He went home and removed all his coverings. He was going to make her pay. Only she could see him. He waited outside her door as she entered he pushed her in. “Use me, you blasted witch! I ask your forgiveness!” He said the magic words.

“Griffin?” Flo asked, her eyes wide with fright.

“In the not so flesh!” Draco laughed.

“Griffin, don’t. Not again!”

“Do I have your forgiveness, Witch?”

“No, you still don’t love me!”

“You use me in over half your lives! How can I love you?”

“And you didn’t use me?”

“I cheated on you once! I was drunk, and I thought she was you! I asked forgiveness! I begged, and you cursed me!”

“You cheated! And you still don’t love… I deny you your forgiveness.”

“And I am sorry you just signed your death again!” He took the knives in his hands and drove them into her hands and feet. “But a bit of fun first?” Draco smirked as he ran the knife down her sternum and stomach, slicing her open.

An hour later Flo lay passed out from pain, bloody and torn apart. Her heart beating its last beats. Draco bent down to her ear. “I don’t know if you can hear me Flora, but I did love you. I loved you enough, I was being disowned to marry you. You killed that love, and now we are stuck in this endless cycle. I hope we can find it again. But with my anger and your grudge, I feel the world will end and they will judge us to continue this cycle in hell.” He kissed her cheek as she took her last breath and her heart beat one last time.

Draco fell down to the ground in pain. He had killed her again. The transformation into the Mugwump wasn’t what was painful. It was that he let that dark side out and killed her again. After the transformation was complete, Flora’s body was left to be discovered and Draco found himself thinking of a new name as he sat on the fence facing a highway punished to never move, and never to be seen but by children playing car games.

Monster University- Drake

“I look at my prey, I hate what I am. I hate this need to hunt; but I am afraid of death. That is why I am in this situation to begin with… that fear of death… I stand here writing in my ancient diary while I contemplate drain the woman who is sitting alone in the corner…I HATE MYSELF!”

Drake put his journal in his desk and turned the key, locking it away. He looked at the mess of people. He had a party each week; a part of him, that he hated, needed them. He had tried to go without. He had tried so many times. So many times it would drive him mad and he would satisfy this thirst in the most horrific of ways.

He is grateful for his roommates. Cameron, Frank and Lucas all understand the curse he lives with; the death he must inflict so he could live. He is happy he found them many centuries ago. With this new world they knew they had to blend in, so they decided to mainstream and go to college. So many careers demanded the paper over experience. Maybe next time he could be one of the business owners. They were what the dean had called freshmen.

He is far from a fresh man… he died over five hundred years ago, but afraid of death he took a deal to grant him immortality. He has been called many things; in fact, he is the basis of that silly little book Dracula.

He knew Bram Stoker; a crazy little man who was obsessed with the beings that went bump into the night. Ever since Drake had tried to drain him, that was until he tasted his blood; they had tainted it with holy water; sadly, the little insane man thought it worked against vampires. In a way, he was right; it only worked because he believed it would. Holy objects only work if the person believes it does. He was only evil in the fact he needed fresh flowing blood to live.

After all, in the blood is the very essence of the soul. Blood is life, it is why most ‘monsters’ crave it. Blood is life. And without life, there is death. He hated that part of this curse. He didn’t really think when he was offered the escape from death. After all, his fear back then was not living up to his family name. Dying before he could prove himself as a Dracula! He should have taken time to think; but he was dying, and he became a killer who shattered the lives of not only his victims, but of their entire families.

Cameron is the one that suggested coming to the new world. So they took the chance. It was a chance to start over somewhere new. There were many places in Europe where they were still hunted. They bought a house, bought some fake documents and signed up for college. Good Lord, what they would do without their contacts they didn’t know, and Bo was one of the best at getting the fakes with Sebastian. After all, what could it hurt to come to a new world? To live some place different for once. Besides their victims…

Sadly, they cannot escape their curses. Some may be have clauses in their curses but he has never meet one to escape their curses. Nobody had ever escaped. Nobody ever would. They can be changed, they can be amended, but they would all remain forever cursed.

Drake sighed and walked- well glided- over to his prey. He watched in her eyes as he flashed an award winning smile and sat down next to her. “Hello, my dear. I am Drake.” Drake knew nobody was immune to his charms, his thrall. After all, Old Man Abe had something right about vampires. Thrall, blood draining, hell he even had the brides correct, but he never kept them for long. He sent them out on their own after he had his fill. After all, after a while the Thrall would wear off and well new vampires who weren’t controlled were never fun to deal with; and he for sure didn’t have the patience. Which is why since Old Man Abe killed his last three he never made any more, he didn’t have the patience to deal with them. Only his true brides would be forever loyal. He flashed his smile and started his thrall toward his prey.

“Hi…” She started and blushed. The blood to her face made Drake’s desire for her blood stronger. “I am Sam.” She was a shy, timid woman.

“Nice to meet you, Sam.” Drake took her hand in his, and held it there. “Would you like a tour of the house? Maybe a drink?” Drake pulled her up with him.

“That would be great.” She said and got up to go with him; she seemed to bask in his attention.

Drake kept her hand and grabbed a potent drink from Lucas along the way. “Well, let’s start down stairs…” Drake started and led the shy young Sam to his room. There was a reason he chose this type of woman. Shy, timid, not many friends, far from home, would be a few days before she was noticed missing. She was the perfect prey.

“Oh, your room is in the basement…” Sam said in shock when they walked into his windowless room.

“Oh, yes, this is my room.” Drake came up behind her. “Do you like it?” Drake asked as he pushed her hair away from her neck. He bent and kissed her neck before she could respond. He touched the tip of his tongue to her neck and heard her gasp for breath.

Sam was torn between fear and desire. She had come to this party on her friend’s suggestion, and then her friend had left her when she went to dance with her newest boyfriend. “I…”

Drake turned her around and kissed her; and pushed her toward his bed. He felt as she fell back onto the bed and he climbed in with her. “I hope you do…” Drake laid down almost on top of her and planted a string of kisses along her neck.

“Drake…” Sam struggled for thought, but she knew she didn’t want this. “Stop.”

“No…” Drake said, and he felt his fangs extend. He struggled against the monster within himself. He tried to push himself away from her, but he was too weak… he had gone too long without the flowing blood of life.

“NO!” Sam struggled to get free. She screamed and hoped that someone heard her; never knowing the rooms in the house were built to be sound proof for many different reasons. Then she went silent when she felt the pain in her neck.

Drake bit her. He hit the sweet spot where the blood flowed quickly and freely and he started to drain her. She went silent with the first bite, but she continued to struggle.

Sam tried to get away, but she started to get weaker and weaker. Soon she could not move… and she felt cold.

Drake knew when she gave up. He knew the moment she accepted her death, and a tear escaped his eye as he completely drained her. Once the last drop was gone, he rolled to the side, and exhausted from his gluttony of blood, passed out.

Drake awoke the next day and looked at the body beside him. Sam’s eyes staring into space; clouded over with death. He sighed and picked up the phone.

On the fourth ring it picked up. “Tony’s Cement Shoes. You Kill ‘Em, We Sink ‘Em.”

Drake sighed, but only those who Tony trusted would have the number, anyway. “Is Tony in?” Drake asked.

“Drake, my man! Tony is on his way to your house. He knows when you have a ‘party’.” The person on the other line stated.

Drake could almost see the quotation marks that he was sure Tony’s clerk, and nephew, had made. “Bleu, very funny. Tell your uncle to charge the account.” Drake hung up the phone. He looked at the body for a moment, shook his head and wrapped it in the white sheet; just a few spots of blood on it. Drake took one last look at the scene and then at the time. He picked up his books and left for class. He pushed the body of the young woman, whose name had been Sam, out of his head; never to be thought of again… Or at least he told himself as he pushed her from his thoughts…

Monster University-Rachael

Story One

Rachael

“I watch the monsters day in and day out. They never notice me the lowly human. But I watch them. I know them. I know their weaknesses, their strengths, their desires. They don’t think anybody could ever figure it out. Ha! One only has to watch and listen to see what is really going on. Nobody watches. And nobody pays attention to the dying girl. The girl that is quiet and mousey, the girl that doesn’t say two words unless she is in class or spoken too. No nobody notices the dying girl. And because of that, I can watch them. Study the monsters. And learn how to kill them. I don’t have the strength to kill them. To get rid of the evil that plagues this town. But I hope that some day that humanity won’t be lost to them. I hope that some day that someone will have the strength to take them down. But I watch. That is all I can do. Watch and record. And now I want to share this all with you. Share with you how I came to find out how things go bump in the night. And the stories of Monster University.”

Rachael sat and watched the new students. Rachael was a professional student. She chose this life because she was dying. She always knew she would die young. Terminal Genetic Conditions. She snorted. People ignored her. She was always quiet. Afraid of trying to find friends. Afraid of falling in love. Why do so when you are just going to leave them? Even her parents were distant after they diagnosed her at eight. Two years later, her very healthy baby brother and sister were born. They were the only ones she really cared about in life, anyway. She always sacrificed for her brother and sister. They were her life. She gave them everything that she refused to give anybody else. Because of that, most people thought she was lost in her head a lot. Her books, her stories, her writings and musings. That she refused to get a job, even with her many degrees. Cemented that she was a bit touched in the head. But really, she was watching. Observing. Writing what she saw. And as the new students moved in and the town got a new bar, a new restaurant, new businesses… okay, let’s be honest, not that strange. They were in a college town and people moved in and out all the time. Sometimes families moved to be with their kids; sometimes people moved to make a go of a business in a college town that would have many people for at least eight of the twelve months of the year. The bonus with this town is that it was very, very close to the larger towns in the state. And was considered a larger town in of itself. So even ‘seasonal’ businesses could make a go of things year round.

One day Rachael was helping with the registrations. And she noticed some strange behavior in a group of kids. Now it was a college campus, and strange and abnormal behavior was normal. But some of these kids were speaking as if they were misplaced out of time. They dressed as if they looked into a catalog and just picked clothing to mimic what the model was wearing.

So, Rachael did what Rachael did best and observed them. She watched them every day and eavesdropped in on their conversations. She wrote down everything. She listed everything. She discovered the truth not long after they all started. They never noticed her and talked around her. They were monsters! Vampires, werewolves, mummies, zombies, undead killers, they were all real! What could she do?

She knew she could never fight these monsters. Instead, she stayed in the shadows. She documented the monsters. She watched them day in and day out. She was dying, and they killed to live. It made her mad. It pissed her off. She watched them kill to live. She watched them kill for sport. She watched them laugh about it. She watched them live life when she would die.

She vowed somehow that people would know their stories. Their weaknesses and their powers and their rituals; so that one day people could rise and bring them down. She wrote these stories and hid them when she was finished.

She followed them. She got to know them. She probably knew them better than they knew each other. This went on for months. She would put the pieces together. And being a woman who was used to being in the shadows, she knew how to stay hidden.

One day Rachael had just finished documenting the last of the monsters in town. She found the rituals they had to perform. Their weaknesses. And their strengths. She wrote them as short stories. She left the bank to be surrounded by the very monsters she had been hunting. She had messed up just a few days before. She had known it too. She had gotten so angry that one of the women was so bored with life that she was just going through the motions. That she kept doing her rituals only so she wouldn’t have to pay the price of burning in hell.

Rachael yelled at her when she went to the bar to watch one of the last monsters. She had yelled that she wished that she could live. She wished that she had the opportunity that the soul sucking monster she was had; but she was dying. She messed up and quickly finished her documents. She had to. Her will stated to publish them. To publish them as fiction so that way people would read them. But those who were smart, those who could put the pieces together, that they would understand that they were after a while. And maybe one day hunt them down and destroy them all.

Now she stood surrounded by them. Taken into a back alley into the city. She swallowed. She took a deep breath. She closed her eyes, for she knew her time had come. She asked one thing. “Let my parents bury my body…” She whispered as her world went black.

“These are my words. My stories. Read them. Understand them. And watch for the monsters hidden within our society. If you are reading this. You know my story. A girl who died too young. Her genetic condition taking her quickly as she left her ultimate piece of work in a safe deposit box to finish. These are my last words. I know when I leave this bank I will die. Be aware of the surrounding people. You never know which may hide a monster within. And if you are brave enough, strong enough, powerful enough… Please finish what I wanted to start and destroy them all…”

Midnight Dew- Poem

My soul belongs to you and only to you
And I shall meet you again at the midnight dew
You were the light on my dark path
You hold my soul in life and in death
The day I said I Do
I gave my existence to you
You say you see the light in my soul
Even if I believe it is black as coal
But than again my soul belongs to you
Your took it with you with that last breath you drew
You were the only light in my dark life
You make my living hell worth the strife
I shall meet you again at my midnight dew
As my soul belonged only to you

Monster University

I will start republishing the stories of the 1st set of Monster University Short Storiee. 1 or 2 a day.

The reason, is that I do want to complete the 2nd set. Throughout the next few months. I will post them as I complete them.

Newly edited.

Each with its own cover.

Exclusive to my website.

Will post 2 today.

I hope you enjoy them!

Dirty Secret

There he goes, not even noticing how I look at him. He doesn’t notice the look in my eye. He doesn’t see that he owns my heart and soul. He doesn’t know how much I need him.

It is wrong I know. But I can’t help but love him. I try to stay away. I try to remember he isn’t mine. I try. I try so hard.

Sometimes I slip.

But only when I am drunk, which is often, as I love him so.

I love him. How could I not?

It really is a sight to behold, that man.
But I am nothing but a dirty secret, for when he has had too much to drink, when the job gets to tough, and when he just needs someone other than his wife. He comes seeking a comfort only I can give.

But then he leaves again; the clock mocks me as it flashes two in the morning. Four hours. For four hours he was mine.

And now he will go back to her. His love. His soul. The one that doesn’t have to be the dirty little secret. The one that gets to tell the world he is hers. The one that gets to tell the world that he belongs to her. That the world knows has his heart. Even if I have his body for hours at a time.

I get up and look in my cabinet. The gun he gave me is there. For my protection, he had told me. He had a lot of enemies.

The pills the doctor gave me are there. For my depression. My anxiety. My seizures. All there.

I am sick of being someone’s dirty little secret. I look at them, but I slide down to the floor and sigh.

I don’t know how long I am there. But suddenly I hear my door open; only he can get in to my apartment. I wait for something, but nothing is coming. I hear the bathroom door open. He is standing there above me. He has a gun. I look up at him.

“You can’t be my dirty little secret anymore.” He pointed the gun at me and shot twice, into my chest.

As I lay there, the pain of the bullets in my chest, I was gasping for air.
I hear another shot; he had turned the gun upoin himself and shot himself in the head.

I struggle to get up. I make my way to the phone… I dial emergency services. “He killed himself…” I gasped out, and then my world went black…

I was no longer his dirty little secret.

Death Presents

Flash Fiction
All Rights Reserved

I remember it like yesterday. Was it yesterday? Time seems to blur lately with my depressed thoughts. That Hollow’s Eve that ended my childhood and set me upon this road. A loss of childhood is a requirement of life I guess, but one that still comes as a surprise to everybody when they realize it is over. Those carefree days, gone forever, often times in a blink of an eye. Many have contribute to that day, many that regret the choices that led to that day.

Even as I lay here and listen to the voices talk about what is to be done with me. I listen as my godfather slams the refrigerator closed, I listen as my godmother cries, and I even hear her blasted pet bird squawk against its cage being thrown about as people went to and fro.

I close my eyes as I remember that day upon the pier when my parents said good bye to me. That day that was only a week before that terrible day, but seems so far away. The ship of iron and steel then was hit by a ship killer. And that is what that storm did. It killed the ship and along with it my parents.

So as I lay here, moments after hearing the voices talk about where they would continue raising my ten-year-old self, and try to think. At that moment I strengthen my mind, I create walls around my heart, and I make a vow.

A vow that I will become the queen I am about to be crowned, and nobody, not even my godparents, will control my ambition to show the world I am my father’s daughter.

Those voices would not be able to control my ambition to have the world fear the name, Anne Bathory.

Because while I may not be Queen of my nation, I am queen of my land and my name would be feared.

That I can guarantee in my last moment of childhood, as Death has presented me with the Queen’s crown.

Hidden

Flash Fiction

All Rights Reserved

I lay here, my eyes wide open. My life it flashes before my life. My childhood. My teen years, and the start of the path I went down. My adult years and that final act that finally lead to this position.

I lay here and wonder what my life had been like if I hadn’t made the choices I had. I lay here and feel, maybe for the first time in my existence, regret.

So that is what regret feels like. Excitement. Release. A moment of relief.

Those emotions for my life were the only ones I knew. Odd how now that my eyes are on display that I feel something I always should have all along.

Remorse. Regret. Sadness. It is a novel feeling to finally feel… human.

That part that was hidden so deep inside me.

Now out in the open and on display as my eyes see the last faces they will ever see.

They say eyes are the windows to the soul. That is why I used to wear sunglasses. Why I keep my eyes hidden from the world. So they won’t see the darkness of my soul.

See the things that I had seen. See the things I have done. See my true soul.

So I hid my eyes. Maybe I did feel, but I was so hidden. So hidden that I even hid my eyes from myself. I couldn’t look myself in the eyes. To look myself in the eyes would have reminded me of the sins I ran from. Remind me of the pain and death I caused.

But today the glasses finally came off.

Today my eyes will close forevermore, after they are bared for the world to see.

As I finally pay for my sins.

As they inject me with drugs to stop my heart my eyes wide open and on display, the world sees my soul and the fact I finally regret my choices.

Regret my life.

Regret I made my eyes a window to hell…

The Thin Line

‪ Blood. I could feel the dark red warmth drip down my fingers as I tried to stop the bleeding. I could see the red stain the pure white gown of my bride. I had turned my back on tradition to marry for love, and my bride paid the price. The shot rang in my ears again as I woke up with a scream torn from my throat.‬

I took a deep breath. I looked down at my hands expecting to see blood, her blood, the blood of a truly innocent soul; instead the scar on my own chest glinted into the moonlight. I was dying, my soul had died. Where I was saved from death’s final grip, where I was prevented from leaving this mortal plane, my dear sweet bride died in my arms the day of our wedding, that cold, darken, gorgeous winter night.

I screamed at that moment, the moment where I realized it was not just a nightmare, but my living hell. I sat in my bed and screamed. I was a powerful and influential witch and I could not save my bride. I screamed my throat raw; then I got up and stumbled to the bathroom to look in the mirror.
My once icy blue irises were tinted black due to the magic I had been preforming since I woke from my coma three weeks ago. The magic that was forbidden in nature, the magic I had once swore to myself I would never even contemplate. But no matter the cost I was going to get my vengeance. I had forsaken my patron goddess, Astraea, and veered from the path of Justice into Vengeance.

I had done the darkest and most forbidden of magic to call for the lives and souls of those who were responsible for my soul being killed, for taking the one person who deserved nothing but love, life, and peace in this world away from me.

I closed my eyes as I thought of the pleasure I took as I ripped their still beating hearts out of their chests. I closed them against the visions of me taking their magic within a heart cut ruby, known as the Blood Ruby. A forbidden artifact that I searched the world over before killing the man who had it, he should have really just let me buy it from him. Their magic would be needed for the final ritual I had planned. The ritual that would seal my place in Hel, as I will have created a sin so grave, that my soul would be dishonored. I looked into the mirror. The price I had to pay was extreme; but then to do the forbidden magic I was about to do? It called for an extreme price. A price I would gladly pay, for I have crossed that thin line between justice and vengeance.

I stood in a black dress, a dress that matched my wedding dress, but it was now black with the death of my soul; the sun was setting, just like it had upon my soul. I stood in front of my family grimoire, it had a forbidden section. A section of magic that I only got to glance upon until I was twenty-one, before I had to embrace the rules set forth by our gods and mother magic, before I had to learn what I was forbidden from doing.

I looked at the evil I have already done, from the vengeance I sought, to the horrific things I have done for this ritual. In front of the grimoire laid upon the finish of silk was the preserved body of my beloved bride in her pure white dress, an exact replica of her wedding dress that night.
For this ritual I looked at the actions I had taken, from the killing of a pure silver dove for its heart, the trapping of fairies so they would die & burst into fairy lights, and the sacrifice of three innocent mortals. But it was worth it, for I could not live without her.

Without her the darkness of my family magic would have consumed my soul. Like it had done on that moonless, starless, clear winter night, that I swore my soul and life to her, to have my own brothers rip my love, my happiness, and all that was good from my very soul.

So, tonight I give up a dove’s heart, two lives of fairies, three bodies of blood, and my very soul, all for her life.
Eos and Hecate forgive me…‬