VESPERTINE

A paranormal story.

     It was evening when the Vespertine, the Children of the Night, make their appearance. Little brown bats were darting about in crazy flight patterns catching small insects by scooping them into their wings and hind feet. It was the time of evening when flocks of nighthawks rose into the darkening skies, their hawk like profiles and white banned pointed wings cut through the sky. Their buzzy peee-iks and trombone sounding booms created by their wings echoed in their wake as they dive bombed to the earth, arching back skyward at the last possible second. These nocturnal birds captured insects in their large basketlike mouths, mouths that have bristle like feathers to aid in the capturing of their meals.

    The poorwill called into the deepening time of vespers, their calls of poor-will, poor-will, the second note higher than the first echoes, as the voice of the owl, whoot, whoot, whoot, the voice seems to be asking.

    It is the Time of the Vespers when the curtains of darkness rapidly descend, a darkening that has already happened before anyone realizes it. That startled moment when one glances up, surprised and announces, “Look! It’s getting dark!”

    It is the time when the sky is not yet black but dark dark midnight blue and a great milky moon is riding up that sky, for her reign of the night. That’s when all things ominous, sinister and malevolent emerge from their dark cracks and crevices and take center stage. The Monsters of the Night have arrived!

 

    Ariel was a sickly night child, looking like she was suffering from marasmus, a disease    that causes its victims to slowly and gradually waste away no matter how much they ate. She was severely emaciated, looking like a late 20^th century victim of anorexia nervosa but Ariel only appeared to be human. She was tall, skeletal, with pale milky skin that showed blue and red veins beneath. Her hair was dull, black and straight, hanging just below her knees. Her face was very sickly looking, her dull eyes were huge in her face and her lips were faintly blue. But Ariel was not lacking in food. She was a child of Vespertine, a Dark Child that lived off the livings blood.

    She prowled the misty shrouded cemeteries looking for the devastated bereaved, those who could not leave the dead behind. Ariel was only too happy to send these tortured tragic souls to the next realm where their loved ones had already gone. Every night she’d feed, but still the marasmus was slowly eroding her away. She was a living skeleton. How did she even go on?

    Ariel was one of many night creatures. Also lurking in the cemetery the Lupine, Wolf Children. They fed on the remains of freshly dead they exhumed from their graves. It did not bother them that the dead had been embalmed. That only made the flesh sweeter, a flavor not known over a hundred years ago. Besides, the Lupine did not really miss the stink of rot and maggots wiggling on the flesh. No, the Lupine did not mind.

    Small packs lived in the different cemeteries in big and small cities. They’d dig up the graves of the recent dead after carefully removing the squares of grass just placed in proper position over the grave holes, open the coffins, feed on the dead within, close the coffins back up, kick the dirt back in, and replace the squares of grass. No one was the wiser the dead within their coffins had been consumed by a small pack of Lupine. The graves retained their fresh and new look. The Lupine were smart and their human like paws made the work simple.

    The nighthawks voice calls long after dark, a buzzy peee-ik, then followed by the trombone boom of their wings as they dived. The little brown bats continue their insect hunts, their chitters and twitters echo radar back and forth across the night air.

   While the Lupine feed on another body they exhumed Ariel the living undead skeleton drifted across the graveyard, a human victim in her sights. Not someone pining away for a deceased loved one, but a drunk using the graveyard to drink his life away. Ariel will help. She’ll ease his life pain by sending him on to the next realm where he would never be needing alcohol again.

    Before the slightly intoxicated young man realized what was going on Ariel descended upon him and was savaging his throat, ripping his flesh and drinking his blood. The young man tried to scream but all his air rattled out of his torn throat. Ariel drank and drank, draining away his life. The slight amount of alcohol already in his blood added an exotic tinge to the salty, coppery blood flavor.

    Such ambrosia! Such delicious nectar! Life flowed into Ariel, creating a surge of energy that her emaciated body looked like it could not possibly have. Holding her victim in her arms, a sick parody of a lover’s embrace, Ariel drained him dry. When she was finished she let the dead body drop to the cemetery earth and slowly stood, wiping blood from her mouth with the back of her hand. She spotted the radiant green eyes of the Lupine watching her. She smiled a sinister and ominous smile, exposing her thin white upper and lower fangs. Her crimson yellow eyes burned with malevolence. She stepped away from the dead body, knowing what the Lupine wanted. She did not care. She was done with her feast. When Ariel moved away from the freshly dead the Lupine moved in and ripped apart the dead body, snarling and feeding. It wasn’t long before nothing was left.

    The darkness wore on. Vespertine was growing old and thin. Night was sweeping an icy, empty breath across the landscape. The nighthawks had grown silent, as well as the poorwill. Only the little brown bats still fluttered about the now inky dark sky. The owls still called whoot? Whoot? A distant howl arched into the dark silvery star studded sky. Not a dog. Not a coyote. And not wolf. A Child of the Night. A Creature of the Damned. Something cruel and dead and up from Hell.

    Ariel paused to listen and a hateful smile twisted her slightly bluish lips. The Lupine paused, ears alert and listened. They made small crazed laughing sounds and continued their patrols of the city’s cemeteries.

   The Urban Werewolves were out and about. The city’s night seethed with bloodshed and death. Promises of pleasure that were never kept. All humans were fair game, not just society’s unwanted and not just society’s human trash. Some of Hell’s Children wanted only to feed on the best; the healthiest humans civilization had to offer. Some preferred to prey on the weak, unwanted and the sick. Now the real killers were out. The vampires. The werewolves. The ghouls and the Lupine. And the Soulless Ones.

    And Ariel, always hungry, continued to feed. Her marasmus never resolved. Her hunger never satisfied. Hungry. Always hungry. The hunts never ended. The Dead and the Damned can never be satisfied.

Reviews

[Jaidyn DeVoir]

Again excellent. I love the stories, and they imagery you create.

with Love,

Jaidyn

[Black Cat Fever]

I like this, its like watching a program or reading something of the natural history of paranormal creatures with a star. Really nice job!

[Star Wolf]

Awesome write! This really has a different feel to it than most vampire/werewolf stories. Impressive job!