Visiting the mainland never gets old. Each time Lena Dupree comes back, she finds new treasures that would have boggled the minds of her deceased relatives.
An onlooker would say she is a diligent shopper, browsing through each booth, and conversing with passerby.
And that's exactly what Lena wants people to see.
In fact, Lena did have a small shopping list from Simone, but they needed something far more transcendent than groceries.
Luring souls back to the island for harvesting is not an easy task. Even more difficult is finding naive and gullible ones, vulnerable to exploit. With the advance of technology, remaining undiscovered has become increasingly complex and Lena has had to get creative.
From time to time, when desperate, she has coaxed men into joining her at Moonscar Island with the promise of sex, booze, or some other addictive vice; though it's not a route she prefers to take. Sex is an activity she greatly enjoys and doesn't want such acts tainted with Ai-Apaeca's curse.
There are also days like today when lady luck is on her side. Not one, not two, but five potentials just happen to stroll on by, and even better, they're tourists. No one would come looking for them for quite awhile. After all, people go missing out in the swamps all the time. Gators and snakes and such...
Lena noticed that one member of the group is a damn dog. A talking one, at that. Normally she would consider it strange, but as a cat creature herself she supposes magic can go both ways. She's uncertain if a dog's soul can be drained, but hey, why not try? If it fails, it's one less mangy mutt roaming the streets.
She is shocked to see a hippie amongst the group. It's been decades since she's seen those types, and even longer since she last smoked weed. Secretly, Lena hopes he keeps a stash in his pockets that she can find later when searching his corpse.
Back in the day, Simone grew a fair bit of marijuana, for supplemental income only, she'd said. That self-righteous woman would never use it herself,"Do not be too indulgent, Lena. It can defile the priesthood and possibly weaken Ai-Apaeca's power."
Fortunately, Lena had always shrugged off Simone's warnings. For a creature who was immortal, she sure spent a lot of time obsessing over their future demise. What's the point of living forever if you can't enjoy it?
Moving closer to her prey, she pretends to inspect apples for bruises as she listens in on their idle chatter.
A short woman in glasses sits on a bench. Her wardrobe is an absolute conundrum, a thick wool sweater and a mini-skirt...in the Louisiana heat. Lena secretly prays to Ai-Apaeca that this is not some new and trending style because she will never be caught dead wearing those knee-high socks.
The red-head seated beside the oddly dressed woman is somehow familiar, though she doesn't know why. Perhaps she's seen her in a magazine or a newspaper?
Her outfit is thankfully more tasteful, but the colors clash horribly with her hair. She looks forlorn and upset, which makes for the perfect bait. Whatever is making her sad, Lena will dangle it in front of her like a shiney fishing lure.
Positioned beside both ladies is another man with broad shoulders and wavy blonde hair. Lena smiles to herself as he shoves another beignet into his mouth, completely oblivious to the powdery sugar smudged there. He was way too cute for his own good.
Using her feline-like senses, Lena sharpens her hearing, listening patiently for just the right segue. Her effort pays off when she hears, "What I need is a real live ghost."
Hmmm.
The specters of Moonscar Island are not active often, but the hordes of walking corpses still move about. Perhaps those shriveled mummies might still be of some use?
She straightens out her dress, pats down her hair, and gathers her groceries. Since she will be coaxing in more than one person, she needs to be at her best. If she is successful in attracting all five people, Simone will be ecstatic.
XXXXXX
As Fred and Daphne prepare to leave in search of their screaming friends, the couple quickly embraced. Pulling Daphne in for a tight hug, Fred plants a swift kiss to her forehead.
The tender moment, however brief, was intended to be private. But a crack in the wooden door allowed Lena to see, and the scene caused an unexpected pang in her heart.
It had been so long since she'd been held that way by anyone. A person who actually cared. Sure, she's had plenty of sexual partners and made some friends on the mainland, but this?
She won't ever be able have that.
Not wanting to further upset herself, she turns away from the secret lovers. With the tourists distracted, she can search for personal items to be used in Simone's sacred ritual tonight.
Decades of this cursed tradition has made her an expert, as it takes only moments to find an object of Fred's. Lena lifts an orange ascot up to the lamp and notes that it's faded and worn around the edges, likely from daily use. It obviously holds some sentimental meaning to him.
Hopefully he won't notice a tiny piece is missing, at least until midnight, and then it will no longer matter. She tears the cloth as easily as tissue paper and stuffs her stolen item in the bodice of her dress.
Out of curiosity and physical attraction, she brings the ascot to her nose and inhales deeply, catching wisps of Fred's natural human scent.
Much like his demeanor, his smell is clean and masculine, pleasing Lena in a more primitive way.
Along side Fred's, she can sniff out another aroma. This one is faint, but distinctly feminine, and almost floral.
Daphne.
That accursed reporter who's too damn inquisitive for her own good.
Jealousy roars through Lena's chest, accompanied by a red hot fury. Why should she get to have what Lena can't? The brat doesn't even know how lucky she is.
The man is, of course, charming and handsome without even trying to be. He seems loyal to a fault and good-natured, two traits that are hard to come by in this modern world.
There's no doubt in Lena's mind that Daphne does not appreciate him like she should. Not only could Lena grant him the blessing of immortality, but open Fred's eyes to a whole world of debauchery he can't even fathom.
She could be his teacher of sorts, making him shed his human tendencies and give in to his more beastial instincts. A lustful shiver runs through her body at future possibilities.
Being so young when her tribesmen were massacred, she hadn't yet experienced a meaningful relationship.
Originally, she had seen the same potential in Beau, but he had been a disappointment from the get-go. He was good-looking and well-built, but he always wore a permanent scowl that matched his constant irritability.
About to leave Fred's room, Lena notices a hairbrush in Fred's suitcase.
A hairbrush full of red hair.
She picks it up with a grimace, as if it's filthy, and ponders what would happen to the woman if Fred accepts Lena's offer.
She imagines it would be rather poetic for Fred himself to drain his girlfriend's life as his first victim.
Delightful.
But no.
It wouldn't work.
Fred's love for her is obvious. And his heart is too pure. It would take some time, years maybe, for him to see the world through Lena's eyes.
Perhaps if Daphne was turned as well it could make Fred's transition easier? Her light fame and knowledge of media could be a boon for the plantation. As much as Simone detests technology, they need it as much as fresh souls.
Perhaps Daphne could even be persuaded to share Fred? After all, there's only so many things that one man and one woman can do to each other. With eternal life, basic sex has the tendency to become boring.
Gathering her thoughts to share with Simone later, she rips the strands of hair from the brush with more force than was necessary.
Hearing the solid oak floorboards creak behind her, Lena turns quickly, the hair hidden in her fist. She is thinking of an excuse as to why she's in Fred's room when Simone peers around the door, dangling Velma's lens cloth.
Lena grins "I've already got Fred and Daphne's totems." She then holds up a dog collar of Scooby's and a bizarre looking cookie that fell from Shaggy's pocket, "And I got these from those two idiots running amok out there."
"Well done," Simone says, as examines the objects. Taking the dog color and cookie from Lena's hand, she tosses them into the trash can. "No need to make dolls of those two. They are weak-minded enough as it is. We'll be able to drain them easily without magic."
XXXXXX
"They are pests. All of them," Simone grumbled, her hands adding various ingredients into a boiling kettle. "Nothing but fodder."
Disagreeing, Lena huffs, "That's a little close-minded, don't you think? We were once human. Annoying, yes, but they could be useful. Perhaps Fred-"
"Useful in getting us killed, you mean," Simone bristled as she flipped through her tattered spell book.
Lena rarely blushes, but her cheeks are turning a shade of pink and a sly smile crosses her lips, "He is rather handsome, though. I wouldn't mind the risk in return for a night with him."
Simone raised a blonde eyebrow, "Do I not allow you to have some freedoms on the mainland? Surely during your trips there you can find someone to slate your lust."
Lena's cheeks are burning bright pink now, "I know and I am grateful. But sometimes...I don't know. I guess I want something more meaningful. Perhaps maybe Fred could be swayed to our side, like Jaques?"
"No." Simone's answer is hard and finalizing.
Not trying to beg, but on the verge of it, Lena pleads, "But he's young and strong. He can help with the farmwork and upkeep of the island."
Grabbing a wooden ladle with engraved mystical carvings, Simone stirs the pot. "That's why we have Beau."
Rolling her eyes, Lena pouts, "But he's so grouchy. And he's a terrible gardener. He's torn up more earth than planted into it. We need more help-"
Growling low, Simone's eyes now yellow with black slits, "Our ability to avoid detection is key to our survival. It is not just your life at risk, but mine as well. More people brought here permanently means more danger."
They each continue stirring the cauldron in an awkward silence until Simone adds, "If physical pleasure is so important to you, why not ask Jaques to your bed? He would be a safer option."
Making a face of disgust, Lena is about to say that Jaques is too old...but that's not quite right. She has nearly two hundred years on the man.
Instead, Lena settles for a lame excuse, "He's not really my type. Besides, I think he's actually got a thing for you."
Looking more annoyed than anything, Simone waves her off, "Nonsense. All of it."
Twirling a curly strand of hair between her fingers, Lena taunts, "Maybe if you'd go to the mainland yourself instead of holding up here forever, you'd lighten up a little."
The remark hits home and Simone snarls and hurls the giant ladle towards Lena's head. Her fangs now completely extended, "Just because you have forgotten the old ways, does not mean I ever will. I am not tempted by the shiney idols of this new age."
Lena's fangs descend, instinctively preparing for a fight, her yellow eyes now glowing in the darkness of their underground altar. It doesn't happen often, but they have had physical altercations in the past.
Simone's ire fades, and her hands start to fiddle with her cat necklace, a nervous habit, "I will never forsake my beloved Pierre, nor our promise to each other to keep Ai-Apaeca's power alive."
In all her long life, Lena has never really learned when to stop, so she eggs Simone again, "Pierre's dead. Along with your brother and everyone else. It's time to move on. Their bones are nothing but dust now. There's a whole world-"
Simone hisses again, her face contorted in fury, and her voice echos around the cavern walls, "I am still the chosen priestess and have sworn to uphold my vows! It is me Ai-Apaeca listens to."
Simone suddenly leaned in aggressively close to Lena's face, making her swipe her claws in defense.
Backing up a bit, Simone chuckled then, her laugh full of cruelty and lacking any actual mirth, "I asked the Cat God to grant you immortality on your behalf, and if I so wish it I will ask him to take it away. And then you too will be nothing but dust."
Knowing that she did not hold the upper hand in this situation, Lena nodded her understanding and picked the forgotten utensil up off the floor.
Simone's feline shaped ears twitched and she turned her attention to the ceiling's crude skylight. She could hear the wretched dog and his human companion screaming in terror from her groaning victims of years past.
Slowly morphing back into her human form, Simone pointed at the bubbling pot, "Now stop this foolishness and keep stirring the magic wax. If it dries before it takes proper shape in the molds, it will all be wasted. And that is good for no one."
Tossing in a powdered substance to the mixture, Lena accepted that this discussion was officially over.