Chapter Seven: Heaven Hath No Fury like a Woman's Scorn
Cold, white arms wrapped around his naked waist. Her delicate, spidery fingers ran through his lust, brick red tresses. Her inky eyes devoured every aspect of his perfect body just as he did hers. His warm lips brushed lightly against hers and pulsed with lust.
"Lucia, Lucia. My baby bride," he crooned. The vampiress had lost her cynic, masochinistic side. She looked so pale, so frail, so much like the innocent woman-child he had fallen in with and used. He stroked the small of her back and fed on her scent that reminded him of freshly-baked cookies. Hold the nuts, please. They fed on each other's emotion, bodies, and soul. He grasped Lucia blonde hair into a ponytail and wrapped it around her neck. His expression was meticulous and took in ever detail of her as if she was a kind of artwork. Her heart was whole. It did not matter how much pain he brought upon her nor how many liters of tears she wept. She loved him. It was as simple as that.
Lucia giggled softly, her black eyes breaming anticipation.
"D-d-darian?" she squeaked.
"Hmmm?" he answered, cradling her in his arms.
"I'm happy that you came back for me," she sighed.
"You know that I will always love you even when you get difficult," Darian said.
"I know/ I'm sorry. It's my entire fault. It's always my fault," she whispered. He ruffled her hair and uttered a laugh. Darian's emerald eyes narrowed and his expression hardened.
"Lucia. Go hunt before you decide to rip my throat out," he insisted. The vampiress giggled again and slinked out of their motel room, wiggling her hips.
Darian smirked and took out his razor cell phone, flipped it open and dialed the number so quickly that his fingers were a blur. He held the phone to his ear and growled at the voice message. He spoke rapidly into the phone, rolling his eyes to the sky at the beep and closed the phone. He sat down on the age-old leather sofa that involuntarily squeaked and stunk. He interlocked his fingers and placed his forehead against his intertwined fists. Think, Darian, think. What to do now? I have to pull some strings.
He reached down towards his leather case and flipped the buckle open. He retrieved a foot-long hard-sewn doll and turned it over in his hands. The doll lacked a face, clothes, distinguishable features and other accessories. Darian poked the doll in the chest where the heart was supposed to be. A lump protruded from the underneath the cloth-skin of the doll and twitched. It started to pulse, the bivalves beating at almost the exact some moment like a true love muscle. Bum. Bum. Bum. Bum. Bumbumbumbum. Bum. Bum. Bum. He turned the doll over onto its belly and poked the third vertebrae. Then Darian set the doll down beside him in an upright sitting position. The doll compressed on itself, then expanded to four times its size. Worm-like bulges slithered up and down underneath the cloth-skin. The doll reshapened itself from looking like an outline of a gingerbread person to a ceramic bru doll.
Out came a nose, ears, mouth, two piece teeth, hair and eyes. The cloth skin smoothed out until it was porcelain. The tint of the skin lightened to a warm ivory. Darian chuckled softly and cradled his new dollie. Is magic not grand? His thumb ran over the cherry, cupid lips and through its blonde tresses.
His cell phone vibrated violently in his pocket. One hand flipped it open and acknowledged, "Demon." He held his breathe as he listened to the other side of the conversation.
"No, don't worry. I got it cover. No, no, no. Don't bother." Darian insisted.
Silence.
"No, I haven't seen her. I thought she was hunting you! NO-no, crap," he cursed. "I'll meet up with you l—Oh. You're busy. Who are you going to see?"
Silence.
"What? That's dangerous! You can't—Hello? Hello? Fuck, he hung up on me!" He crammed the phone back into his pocket and threw the doll onto the floor. It landed on the carpet with a soft thud. Damn that gray-eyed bitch! He roared from deep within his lungs, but the spongy walls absorbed the sound waves. His form shimmered like a mirage in the Sahara Desert and faded like an old black and white movie.
An hour later, the well-fed Lucia came bouncing back into the motel room with her gray eyes bright and her slightly blood-spotted. Never forget to slit the meat bag's throat to cover up the teeth marks. Vampire feeding 101, please turn to section 5, page 96. Her smile fell when she saw that the room was empty.
"Darian? Darian?" she squeaked, her face contorted with panic. "No—NO! You can't leave me here again…" Her voice faltered. She fell onto her knees and buried her face in hands. Her shoulders shook with anguish; she cried tearless sobs and wailed like the loneliest banshee. Her breathing was harsh and forced. Her sobs became growls that increased in volume. She beat her breast with her fist and shrieked "why, Why WHY?" That jagged, burning hole in her still heart smoldered and the flames intensified from wild-orangey-red to a blue with a heart of white. To all you science folks that know blue is hotter than orange.
Lucia slowly stood, her fists balled and she glared at the wall with her chin high. Her eyes were hard, metallic, and as black as ink can be. Her mouth was thin, hard line and the hole no longer ate away at her insides, it just ached. She glanced over her shoulder and spotted the doll. Her heels made a sharp click with every step. She stooped down to pick up the doll by its arm. She glowered at it, the doll smiled innocently back. She crushed the thing against her chest and exited room.
I hate you, she thought. Her love had hardened like a fly trapped in amber. There no escape. The fly's agony would be displayed for all time, surrounded by beauty. Come Sweet Death; take me into thin cold embrace.
Lucia ran. Everything flew past her, the world was a blur. It was like a bullet train with the wind ripping at your hair, bugs in your teeth and a high-dose of adrenaline. She licked her lips and squinted her eyes. Her senses flooded open and her mind scoured for Darian's. I will crush him my foot with a pointed heel through his eye socket! Hyah!
The citizens of Mannequin screamed in surprise at the multi-colored streak that raced through the streets. Newspaper flew off stands, grocery bags were thrown up in the air by their owners, and cars were in near collision of each other. Of course, several toupees were blown off of balding men's scalps and skirts flipped up, just for the humor of the scene. God, it was like the bad outtakes of an action movie.
She could hear the drums of battle pounding in her head. Her high heels snapped due to the inhuman friction and pressure. The wee doll clung to Lucia's dress in horror, her cupid mouth shaped like an "o".