Five Faithless Moments

Hands in the Dark

It was an important day, so she wore her nicest dress.

There were questions. There weren't really answers. Next of kin? Guardian? Mom couldn't be there. The alcohol made her forget her other drugs. The ones that made her remember her name, her address, her daughter. She was gone again. They took her. She should be better when she comes out.

So, she went with the big woman in the suit, who took her away.

The big kids waited until dark. They took her grocery bag. They hit her when she fought back. Blood doesn't come out of pink cotten.


Klepto

You shouldn't spend your date night handcuffed to a bench.

Steve had got her a gold necklace with a pretty green gem. She had thanked him and hugged him and ... thanked him, and then they went to see Godzilla. He even paid.

Afterward, they went through the drive-thru for some cokes, which they added some Jack. They were just getting buzzed when the blue lights flashed.

Her stomach was turning under the flickering fluorescent lights. Green gem was stolen merchandise. Movie and drinks were ill-gotten gains. Steve's going to Bridgewater.

Shit, they feed kids in juvie every day, right?


Painless

She felt an incredible high. She thought it came from the blood loss.

She knew it was enough. Shoplifting cat food. Raiding trash cans. And the rest of it. Sleeping in basements and alleys. That was enough.

It was spring. Evenings were warm again. Warm enough to lay out on the roof under what few stars she could see and let the darkness swallow her up. She knew down, not across. She knew sharp blades. She knew warm-up cuts. But not the high.

She woke up to sunrise and rats drinking her blood.

A week later, there weren't even scars.


Off Tremont

This cannot be it. The signs must be wrong.

Driving in from Logan while following the signs is difficult, to be sure. The magics were created in the ages before cars and urban sprawl. They don't understand the difference between an overpass and a crossroads. They mustn't.

She had been circling Chinatown for a half and hour, trying not to go that way, to the Combat Zone. The girl walked up.

"Hey, momma. Wanna party?"

One girl in each generation, chosen to fight the vampires.

"I'm not one for the divin', but if you got the money...."

This cannot be.


Surface Changes

Gone with the thrift-store top. Gone with the shoplifted sweatshirt. Gone with the threadbare jeans and the shoes she could see her toes through.

This bastard took down vacationing college kids, collecting their luggage, their jewelry, their cash, their bones. Spoils of war, or whatever. Goo won't need it anymore, right? Boss won't like it, but what the hell? The leather pants fit, and don't rip when you roll across concrete.

But not everything's practical.

"That looks mean."

"Tribal designs do that. You got a note from you mom?"

She pulls out green. "How about one from my uncle Benjamin?"