I'm sorry I haven't gotten back 2 my wonderful reviewers had loads of essays 2 write n a Halloween party 2 plan: D
But I will respond 2 nite : D But until then thanks 2 xXxBooshLoverxXx, chugril 2526 and SisiDraig 4 reviewing my rubbish.
I don't own this: )
Enjoy this is slow, but it will get quicker when I know what I'm doing: D
Again just 2 let u know I don't own this: D
Ebola stewed while Anthrax flipped through the television channels.
'I was watching that.' She complained.
'I was watching that,' Anthrax mimicked back making her voice sound a pitch higher and more whiney.
'Nobody watches the news its boring, same old fucking same old. War, famine, hoodies, ugly shitnuts.' Shitnuts; Ebola mouthed silently rolling her eyes, wondering what ever happened to Anthrax's grasp on the English language.
'Not everyone wants to be divorced from reality.' Ebola muttered loud enough for Anthrax to hear her words and the tone clearly. They stared at each other for a few moments, both sitting at opposite sides of the bath their porcelain limps tangled together beneath the steaming water. Their bathroom is plain and stark all white gleaming tiles from floor to ceiling. There's a high roll top bath and a vanity unit, which is cluttered with make-up and hair products. No mirror; no mirrors anywhere. It's something they both secretly miss the ability to have power of their own image, their reflection; it means they have to trust the other completely. Instead of a mirror there is a small plasma screen television set into the wall; from whatever angle they sit in the bath they can both always see it its democracy.
'Maybe you've got something there, Mac.' Anthrax was the first to speak, she's always the first to speak the silence between them has always made her feel nervous. Silence is dangerous.
'Here look I'll compromise,' The word compromise stuck in her throat; she feels like that's all she's ever done since she met Ebola compromised.
'…we'll watch GM:TV cus its got a bit of boring news for you and,'
'I think he's dead.' Ebola cut her off her sentence just hung there mixing with the condensation. Anthrax peered over the edge of the bath glancing down at the male form twisted and sprawled out across the bathroom floor her nimble fingers searching for a pulse, she felt the faint thud of a distant fading heart beat. Ebola rang the bell; it was a small silver bell the noise seemed to slice through everything. There was a rustle as the bathroom door creaked open.
'Madam?' Anthrax crinkled her nose at the sight of the girl who appeared. The girl in her opinion had always been non-descript medium height, short straight mousy hair, not pretty not ugly just plain. She's the sort of person you'd walk by in the street and never realise you'd walked past anyone at all. It's not that Anthrax dislikes the girl it's just well that she's always been there doing nothing or seeming to do nothing living off the scraps from Ebola's table. She's not jealous.
'Yes Lizette, we've finished with that now you can take it away.' Lizette has always been there from the very beginning, from long before Anthrax ever met Ebola all the servants have. Servants, is another thing that sticks in Anthrax's throat it goes against her working class sensibilities an eternity of servitude. Lizette dutifully dragged the body away being careful not to leave a trail of blood. Once she had gone Anthrax turned her face back from the wall licking the last residual traces of a strangers' life from her overdeveloped canines.
'They retract you know.' Was one of the first things Ebola had ever said to her after it had happened. Yet even now after so long it's a skill she still hasn't mastered, Ebola's teeth are flawless.
Ebola stretched lazily stifling a yawn with the back of her hand. Anthrax just sat there watching her before leaning across awkwardly planting a kiss on her open mouth. It took them both by surprise for a few moments; the surprise interrupted by Lizette who whipping a few stray traces of scarlet from the sides of her mouth appeared clutching a towel out waiting to receive Ebola's perfect frozen form. Anthrax wonders why after so many years Ebola just can't get out of a bath like anyone else, why there always has to be this performance. Showing her distaste the way she always showed her distaste she jumped out of the still boiling water first grabbing her own towel making a show of her own self-sufficiency such as it was.
She didn't wait for Ebola wrapping the damp towel around her waist she walked from the bathroom into the bedroom they share. The first thing that greets her is the sight of the two ornate coffins sitting side by side in the centre of the room, but looks can be deceptive there isn't really two coffins it's really just the one spliced together. There are a lot of myths surrounding what they are and a lot of truth. The check list follows no reflection true, coffins true, no direct contact with sunlight true, never drinking dead blood true. An aversion to religious artefacts and religion in general false; Lizette as long as Anthrax's had known her had always been a devout Catholic, Ebola also said her prayers ever morning before the lid is closed on them for another day. They've been to churches; Ebola loved midnight mass at Christmas. The walls have never bled and there was never any lightening bolt from the sky, this has always lead Anthrax to believe one of two things either there is no divine creator or if there is whatever it is doesn't have the slightest care of what they do.
The stake through the heart however unpleasant is also false. There is in fact no way to kill a Vampire; than can be baked in the sun until there bones turn to dust but they never die they just transcendent the physical plain becoming something else thinking matter. When in this non corporal shape than can jump from body to body becoming once again something close to what they had once been. There are only a few Vampires who have ever been known to do this; the rest just float about a bit.
She's followed into the room by Ebola who was being fussed over by Lizette her long blond hair being brush and plaited.
They got changed Anthrax slipping into her boxer shorts skinny t-shirt combination, while Ebola opted for her oversized black silk pyjamas.
Ebola climbed into her side of their coffin first she always slept on the right, Anthrax ran a brush through her own damp hair wondering whether she should do something new to her hair with each stroke. There's not much she hadn't done to it; its poor and overly abused. She'd been threatening to grow it long for; well forever since the 70's at least her hair had always been short.
And then she crawled onto her own side of the coffin letting herself melt into the warmth of the thin cotton sheet resting her head against the pillow behind her neck, listening to the sound of Ebola's daily devotion.
'Amen.' Ebola finished with a whisper.
'Good morning Lizette.'
'Good morning Madam, Miss Delia.' The lid was snapped firmly down on top of them casting everything into shadow suddenly.
'Hey Mac, what about this?' Anthrax elbowed Ebola in the darkness catching her attention demonstrating her new sleeping position folding her arms across her chest.
'You've done that one before, Bob.'