Sister Ola Gatlin decided to take her sabbatical before she left with the Handmaids of the Pure Heart of Mary for Harlem, New York. They gained little support in Georgia as a group of Black nuns. So, they decided to try their luck in the North, and had managed to save enough money from their laundry business and through begging.

She needed solace from the sisterhood. She wanted to say goodbye to her city of Savannah, even though she had no living relatives left. The city had received a population boom in the last couple of years, and had already lost some of its quaintness. That is not to say that Savannah did not have its share of conflicts. The city was segregated after all, and the streetcar protests by the Black residents that occurred a few years ago did little to overturn the local ordinances. Yet, the Handmaids of the Pure Heart of Mary remained hopeful. They had to be, since they were the ones who might ensure that Black children received the education that they so desperately needed.

Sister Gatlin walked through Frogtown in her yellow and orange outfit. She borrowed Sister Parkman's white gloves, though she now felt silly over the formality. But she wanted to walk down West Broad Street looking like a lady (she even got her hair done), even though the girlish part of her wanted to sample every bit of confectionary that decorated the shop windows. She passed the movie theater that she used to hide in as a youngster. She passed the hat shop where the friendly owner introduced a newly orphaned and grieving Sister Gatlin to the church. She even passed the grocery store where the handsome bagger used to fill her stomach with butterflies. This was all before she received the calling from God, of course.

It was God that got her through the most difficult days. It would be God that would get Sister Gatlin through the confusion that she'd been experiencing lately. She began receiving visions of what felt like past lives, and she didn't know what to make of it. Every time she tried broaching the topic with her fellow sisters, they would advise her to pray. Well, Sister Gatlin had done her fair share of praying lately, but it wasn't alleviating the burden on her soul.

She boarded the streetcar that would stop by her friend Ellie's house. She wanted to see Ellie's kids one last time, as she doubted that she'd be able to visit often from Harlem. Sister Gatlin closed her eyes, feeling the air drifting from the windows. She wondered if Harlem was going to give her the same sense of calm.

"What's going on?" asked a passenger as the streetcar came to a stop.

"We got some people up ahead," said the streetcar driver.

"Why are they just standing there?" asked another passenger.

"I don't know," said the driver. "They've stopped us for other reasons before."

Sister Gatlin looked through the front window, and saw what the driver was alluding to. There was a group of White men standing in the path of the streetcar. She looked closely and saw that they weren't wearing any uniforms. Rather, they looked like they were dressed in outfits from the 17th century. They were dressed in elaborate collars with fanciful coats and sleeves. Their hair was tied back in a long ponytail.

That was when it dawned on her. They weren't from her time, which meant that they were the very demons that appeared in her dreams. If she followed the example of her dreams, what Sister Gatlin must do would not be considered wicked but righteous.

"Let me out of the streetcar, driver," said Sister Gatlin.

"What? Why? Are you thinking of talking to those men?" asked the driver.

"I don't think those men are here to talk," said Sister Gatlin.

"Even more reason for you to stay put in here," said the driver.

"Normally, I would. But I must fulfill a calling," said Sister Gatlin.

"I don't follow," said the driver.

"Let me off, and don't let them in no matter what they say," said Sister Gatlin.

"Miss, I don't think that's a good idea," said the driver.

Sister Gatlin snapped off one of the streetcar's wooden posts. The passengers gasped in surprise.

"Miss, I don't know how you did that, but that's destroying city property. Do you know how bad that looks on us?" stated the driver.

Sister Gatlin pulled the lever that opened the door, and jumped out.

"You'll thank me later," said Sister Gatlin, as she marched towards the group of men. She could hear the streetcar door close behind her.

In closer proximity, Sister Gatlin could see the men flashing their vampire teeth.

"Look here. A young negress coming directly to us," said one of the men.

Sister Gatlin presented the sharp post.

"And it looks like she thinks she's a Slayer. You should put that down now before you hurt yourself," said another man.

Slayer, thought Sister Gatlin. Now it all made sense.

"Let the streetcar pass," said Sister Gatlin in her most menacing voice.

"And deprive us from such a feast. I think not," said the third man as he advanced towards Sister Gatlin. The fourth man laughed in glee.

Sister Gatlin staked the fourth man to cement her point. She could hear the passengers gasp in horror. "Did you see that?" yelled one passenger.

"You should not have done that, negress," said the leader.

"You should not have gotten in the way of these nice people. Now you must contend with me," said Sister Gatlin.

"Gladly," said the leader, as he tried to tackle Sister Gatlin. She sidestepped his attack, and elbowed him between his shoulder blades. The force sent him hurling against the streetcar window.

The second man struck her in the ear. Such a blow might've affected a normal human, but Sister Gatlin recovered and punched the vampire soundly in his face. A broken fang flew in the air from the power, and Sister Gatlin took the opening to stake him. The third man jumped on Sister Gatlin's back. He scratched the left side of her head, and left a bloody gash. Sister Gatlin screamed, and grabbed him by the back of his head with rage. She flipped him to the ground, and drew her stake into his chest.

Sister Gatlin felt stunned by the blood loss. She could feel her body trying to heal from the wound. Before Sister Gatlin could wipe the blood from her left eye, the first man grabbed her viciously by the neck and lifted her up from the ground. Sister Gatlin struggled in his grip. She could feel the life draining from her body. But with one last gasp, she hurled the stake with all her might through the vampire's chest. Sister Gatlin would never know that she was victorious, for the vampire snapped her neck before dissolving into dust. Her lifeless body hit the ground just as soon as the last remnants of dust hit the air.

The streetcar passengers gathered around her, but they knew Sister Gatlin she was gone. In a battle that seemed like a lifetime to Sister Gatlin, it was less than two minutes to the observers. They didn't have the chance to come to her aid. If they had tried, would that have made the situation better anyhow?

Sister Gatlin opened her eyes to the light, and found that an African woman in white rags was cradling her head. She looked around and saw the concerned faces of other girls from different ethnicities and time periods. She asked herself: Is this the afterlife?