Dark Tales Read online




  Copyright (c) 2005 by SpecFicWorld.com and/or respective copyright holders where noted. All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be reproduced in any form whatsoever, electronic or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote a few brief lines in a review. Contact information can be found at www.specficworld.com. Cover illustration provided by SimplyMedia(tm) (www.simplymedia.com), Copyright (c) 1989 by Alan M. Clark.

  DARK TALES

  A LESSON IN THERAPY by Angeline Hawkes-Craig. Copyright (c) 2005 by Angeline Hawkes-Craig.

  COLD WAR by Rebecca M. Senese. Copyright (c) 2005 by Rebecca M. Senese. First Published in Return of X the Unknown. Reprinted by permission of the author.

  THE PERFECT HOMBURG by Rob Hunter. Copyright (c) 2005 by Rob Hunter. First Published in Demensions-Doorways to Science Fiction and Fantasy, 2003. Reprinted by permission of the author.

  LEGENDS REBORN by Carol Hightshoe. Copyright (c) 2005 by Carol Hightshoe. First Published in Pangaia Magazine, Summer 2004. Reprinted by permission of the author.

  HALLOWEEN EVERLASTING by Mark Justice. Copyright (c) 2005 by Mark Justice. First Published in The Late Late Show, 2004. Reprinted by permission of the author.

  THE PRAWN by James R. Cain. Copyright (c) 2005 by James R. Cain. First Published in Season in the Night, July 2004. Reprinted by permission of the author.

  AFTERLIFE by Karen Sandler. Copyright (c) 2005 by Karen Sandler. First Published in KeenSF, March 1997. Reprinted by permission of the author.

  THE FLIBBERTIGIBBET by Shaun Jeffrey. Copyright (c) 2005 by Shaun Jeffrey. First published in Deathgrip: Legacy of Terror, 2003. Reprinted by permission of the author.

  WITH MURDEROUS INTENT by K.G. McAbee. Copyright (c) 2005 by K.G McAbee. First Published in Challenging Destiny, April1999. Reprinted by permission of the author.

  MARA'S ROOM by James S. Dorr. Copyright (c) 2005 by James S. Dorr. First Published in Dark Angel Rising, February 2003. Reprinted by permission of the author.

  A LESSON IN THERAPY

  Angeline Hawkes-Craig received a B.A. in Composite English Language Arts in 1991 from East Texas State University. She is a member of HWA and has publication credits dating from 1981. Scrybe Press will reprint her Speculative fiction collection, MOMENTO MORI, in 2005. THE COMMANDMENTS, a Horror fiction collection, is slated for publication by Nocturne Press as a signed, limited edition in Summer 2005. Recently, Naked Snake Press published Angeline's Horror/Thriller chapbook, THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY.

  * * *

  He had found her in the parking garage outside of his apartment. He wasn't quite sure how long she had been gone, or where she had gone; but she was dripping wet. Her thin summer nightgown clung to her like a transparent second skin. Lucky for her, she hadn't wandered too far-who was to say whether or not she would have returned in this storm, in this night, in this city.

  He helped her up, dazed and weak, cradling her gently and cooing reassurances in her ear. These sleepless nights for him and sleep-filled nights for her had all begun a month ago when she insisted on going to that damn hypnotist crackpot, she referred to as a doctor. She said she was seeking inner peace. To get in touch with her subconscious or some bullshit like that. Whatever had happened to good old-fashioned religion? What was all this new age mumbo jumbo shit anyway? It messed with people's minds, that's all it did.

  She walked one foot in front of the other, still mesmerized by whatever dreams danced through her mind. He pushed the hair out of her face, her eyes were frozen, unblinking, unchanging.

  He heard the rustle of pigeon feathers overhead in the cement eaves and glanced up. Black wings outstretched swooped past him and dived deeply, plunging down and soaring out into the night.

  "What the hell?" he gasped, huddled over hear against the wall. "Damn bat!"

  She didn't blink. She didn't flinch.

  "I'll report it to the maintenance man in the morning, don't worry," he said to her as if she was listening. He helped her onto the elevator and the door closed.

  He made some herbal tea for her and dressed her in a dry gown. He watched the rain drip down in rivets on the pane; he watched the night-lights and cars down below in the street.

  "I was sleepwalking again?" she asked slowly, rubbing her eyes.

  He rushed over to her.

  "Yes. Damn it! This is growing old very fast! What the hell do you think you were doing out there? This has got to stop, Elise! It has got to stop."

  "I've tried. It's not my fault!"

  "Bullshit. It's all your fault. All of this crap wouldn't be happening if you had screwed around with your mind. I want you to stop seeing that, that, that quack Dr. Whatever-his-name-is."

  "Dr. Rudov. Alex, we have already talked about this..."

  "...and you refuse to listen to reason, for god's sake! Elise, this has gone on for a month now! Every damn night for an entire damn month."

  "What makes you think it will all stop if I quit seeing the doctor?" Elise sipped her tea sluggishly, as if she were still entranced.

  "It didn't start until you started these 'treatments'," Alex mocked her.

  "Let's talk about it in the morning. I feel drained." Elise got up and walked weakly to the bedroom.

  Alex picked up Elise's cup and put it in the sink and turned out the kitchen light.

  The next morning, Elise was chipper and exuberantly getting ready for work. She was a seamstress for a fashion designer. He looked at her own clothing. Old, by modern standards. She preferred laces and fabrics cut in styles of a more oldfashioned persuasion. Elise would have been just at home 100, 200 years ago as she was now.

  Alex checked his watch, grabbed his briefcase and kissed Elise hurriedly.

  "See you tonight," he called over his shoulder.

  When he came home, Elise had already put supper on the table. No meat again. Another quirk she had picked up from that Dr. Rudov or whatever the hell his name was. "Cleansing for the body and soul" Elise had said. Alex sighed, but didn't feel like arguing.

  "I have some great news!" Elise sang while pouring the wine into the goblets.

  "Oh?" Alex kicked off his loafers.

  "I've rented a fantastic house in the country for the summer. It's terrific, really! Got a great deal, you've been saving up all that vacation time, so I thought maybe we could use a change." Elise tossed the salad.

  "I don't know. The whole summer?" Alex crunched on a carrot.

  "It will be great! It's a huge, old stone house. Looks like something straight out of an old movie! It's roomy, and there's plenty of room if we want to invite some people up. Say yes, please! Please!" Elise danced around his chair. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen her so happy.

  "Okay. Okay. We'll go. When do we leave?" Alex laughed at her.

  "Next week!" she chirped. She sat down but only nibbled at her food. He couldn't remember the last time he saw her eat a full meal either.

  "I suppose it would be good to get away for awhile." Alex poured salad dressing over his salad.

  "It'll be fun!" Elise smiled seductively.

  ****

  When the car pulled up to the old house, Alex was struck by the immenseness of it. He had been stuck in that city and apartment for so long that he felt suddenly suffocated and then set free. He breathed deeply. It was perfect, just like something out of an old photograph. Elise in her billowing chiffon skirt, looked like she had stepped out of that same old tintype.

  The house was full of nooks and crannies just ripe to explore. A child could entertain himself forever in a house like this! He found an old library and leafed through the leather-bound books and sat down among a pile of the choice selections. They were so old.

  He had hardly realized that time had flown by so quickly! Suddenly, he heard Elise calli
ng him to dinner, her voice echoing down the halls.

  He walked into the glowing dining room.

  "I can't believe what I found, it's an 18th century," Alex stopped in mid-sentence when he looked up and saw Dr. Rudov seated at the table with a cold, thin-lipped smiled on his face.

  "We have company, Alex. Can you believe the doctor has a summerhouse right over the hill behind our house? I won't have to forego my therapy after all!" Elise poured wine into the crystal stemware.

  "That's nice, good evening, Dr. Rudov."

  "Please. Call me Vladimir."

  "Vladimir it is then!" Alex tried to sound jovial and sat down in his chair.

  Elise chatted away with old Vladimir hardly touching her food. Alex surveyed every inch of the good doctor. He was a pale, muscular looking fellow in his late forties, maybe. Alex couldn't tell exactly. He was one of those odd ageless sorts who had always looked the same throughout their life from infancy to the present. He wore a satin trimmed tuxedo with tails-formal attire-as if he had expected a dinner invitation. In his pocket, he withdrew, several times, a large, heavy gold pocket watch on a gold fob chain. The watch was heavily engraved.

  "That's quite an impressive watch you've got there, Doctor," Alex attempted small talk.

  "You wish to see it?" Vladimir passed it over to Alex.

  Alex turned it over in his hand. It was huge, fitting perfectly in his palm. Comically, he envisioned the rappers and their huge clocks hung around their necks.

  He flipped it open and inside was Rudov's name in beautiful scrolled writing:

  Count Vladimir Rudov, 1850.

  "It is a family heirloom," the doctor offered.

  "It is beautiful." Alex handed it back to him. "So, your name is an old family name?"

  "Yes, it is passed down every generation, as Elise tells me, your name is as well?"

  "Hmm. Yes. Alexander is my father and grandfather's name. I'm afraid it doesn't go back quite as far as yours does."

  "Years do not matter. It is the respect that comes with the name that matters. A good name is a priceless treasure," the doctor slurred with a thick accent. Maybe this guy wasn't all bad after all.

  Dr. Rudov stayed for a few hours and sipped brandy before the fire listening to Elise and her excessive chatter. He never tired of her ranting. Always nodding and smiling that same thin, colorless smile.

  At last, he asked to be excused, and thanked both Alex and Elise, and then left.

  Alex closed the door behind their guest.

  "Did you know he had a summer house near this one?"

  Elise squirmed a bit. "Well, not exactly."

  "Not exactly?"

  "I knew he lived here more than he stayed in the city, but I didn't know he would actually be here at the same time we were. But, I invited him for dinner when I heard." Elise smiled. "After all he is my doctor."

  "If you can call him that. Rather looks like a senile man who has taken to wearing ridiculously antique clothes and prying around in other people's minds."

  Elise threw her hands up in the air. "Oh! Alex, you are so jealous!"

  "I am NOT jealous!"

  "You are TOO!" Elise turned out the light and headed upstairs.

  Alex dozed fitfully. He kept reassuring himself that they had come here for rest and relaxation, to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Yet, he couldn't shake a constant uneasy feeling he had had ever since Elise announced her plans to come here.

  He dreamed. Dreamed heavily, deeper than he ever remembered dreaming before; but he awoke screaming and in a puddle of sweat-soaked sheets-his pillow stuck to his face and matted to his hair.

  "What is it, Alex?" Elise flipped on the light. "Are you okay?"

  Alex sat up and looked around the room. It was empty except for the massive pieces of furniture and the two of them.

  "Are you okay?" Elise asked again, her cool hands on his flesh; her cold blue eyes distant like the ocean.

  "It was a dream. A horrible, bad dream," Alex mumbled.

  "Tell me about it?"

  "No. No. Just go back to sleep."

  "They say if you tell the dream, it won't happen again." Elise smoothed his hair, her cold fingertips icy against his sweaty brow.

  "No. No. It's nothing." Alex punched his pillow and lay back down.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yeah."

  Elise turned out the light. Alex wasn't sure. The dream was terrible. Those horrible black wings that overshadowed and dived towards him in the parking garage had hung over him like a black cloud in the dream. Soaring closer, closer like an eagle after her prey. And, that bat soared through the open window into their room hovering over Elise, and then in an instant the black wings transformed into the black clad figure of Rudov who lingered over Elise-his cold hands upon her breast and his lips upon her neck.

  In the dream, Alex watched and Rudov turned and looked at him coldly, looked into him, past him, and through him...and smiled that bloodless, thin smile, but his lips were tainted with a thin film of blood-Elise's blood.

  Alex panted heavily as he tried to dispel the dream from his memory, but it hung there heavily and darkly like the very bat in the dream.

  In the morning, when Alex awoke, Elise was gone.

  He found her at Dr. Rudov's house out in the garden. The maid had let him in and led him through a cluttered house full of musty books and artifacts that seemed like they hadn't been disturbed in centuries. She took him through two wide French doors to a beautiful garden brimming with exotic flowers and lush roses.

  "Alex!" Elise ran over to him, her yellow cotton dress billowing behind her, she looked like a pale flower herself, all yellow and white.

  "I woke up and you were gone. Why didn't you leave a note?" Alex tried to control the anger in his voice.

  "I went for a walk and Dr. Rudov was doing the same. We just ran into each other," Elise said cheerfully.

  "Oh, how convenient," Alex mumbled barely audible.

  "Excuse me?" Rudov asked.

  "Uh, I was just thinking that your garden is magnificent," Alex stumbled over the words that covered how he really felt.

  "Yes. Thank you. I have over 150 types of flowers growing here. This house has been in my family since before the colonies. One can grow a lot of flowers in that allotment of time!" Rudov waved his hand in a sweeping arch of gesticulation. "Come, I will show you the interior."

  Alex took Elise's arm, wanting to say that she should be at home resting, she looked so pale and thin, but followed Rudov obediently into the house.

  The halls were crammed with strange and ordinary items. Old and foreign, new and local. And, all over there was a peculiar odor, odd, stale, nearly a stench, but not quite. Several incense burners of various shapes and forms that a maid tended to covered it up well.

  It was a cloudy day to begin with and now within this huge castle of a house, Alex could hear rain beginning to come down like waves and wind banging shutters somewhere in the house.

  "All of this stuff must be worth a fortune!" Alex whispered to Elise.

  "Ah, yes! A fortune, indeed! But, money is no match for the sentimental value I place on each object in this house. Each object represents a memory, or perhaps, a tale I heard as a boy from some relative."

  Alex blushed. He had not intended for his comment to be heard.

  "I don't like change. I don't like to get rid of the old. Elise understands. She and I are of the same breed. Wishing for a way to return to the past, clinging to clothes and items from a different era, another time. We are of the same spirit, the same blood." Rudov rolled the word 'blood' off of his tongue with a hungry tone; somewhere in the recesses of Alex's mind he pictured a frog snatching a fly.

  "Well, the house is magnificent! You must be really proud that your family has kept it up so well," Alex tried to sound pleasant. His comment seemed to break the trance Rudov was in, staring at Elise like she was a delectable morsel to be savored.

  "My family...shall we say, likes real estate
? Houses in many countries are among my assets."

  "I bet they're all as beautiful as this one," Elise purred.

  "Well. I hate to break up the party, but I think we should get home before it starts raining heavy again." Alex took the temporary pause in the weather as an escape from the dismal surroundings.

  "But, you must come again soon to dine with me!"

  "That would be fun!" Elise gave him a parting hug. Dr. Rudov pressed something into her hands.

  "Something to clear up the matter we discussed earlier, my dear." Rudov smiled that smile again.

  Elise thanked him and ran to catch up with Alex.

  "What did he give you?"

  "Only a small book." Elise slipped her hand into Alex's. It was cold and clammy.

  "Your hand is cold. You shouldn't have come out. You look sick." Alex rubbed her hand as if the rest of her would glow with the friction.

  "You worry too much."

  "You don't eat, sleep or do anything normal anymore. You've lost weight, your color is death-like, and I worry too much? You need to see a doctor," Alex said afraid he sounded more frantic than he wanted to come off as sounding.

  Elise just laughed.

  "What book did he give you, anyway?" Alex tried to see the small volume that Elise clutched to her side.

  "Oh, a book about something that happened in one of my dreams. He felt if I know more about it, perhaps I'd stop dreaming about the subject."

  "What is it about?"

  "Vampires," Elise said.

  Alex laughed. "You've been dreaming about vampires?"

  Elise remained serious. "This is the exact reason why I didn't tell you. I knew you'd just laugh."

  "But, Elise, those are kid nightmares. Bad dreams caused by late night movies. You know they aren't real. Just like ghosts or the boogie man, for god's sake!" Alex chuckled.

  "How do we know they aren't real? They seem pretty real in my dreams." Elise clutched the book tighter as if she was afraid that Alex might try to take it away from her.

  Alex opened the back door for her. "Get out of those wet clothes," he called after her as she went up the stairs. He followed her up after a moment of locking the door behind them. She was in the bathroom changing. She had laid the book down on the vanity near the bed. The title read: The Rules of the Vampyre. Alex laughed. Some sort of book you buy as a kid. The kind you form made up clubs around and all your friends want to read the book and be in the club, but you won't let them. Tree house sort of stuff.

 

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