Trembling With Fear 12-3-23

Soul Mate, by Alyson Faye

Leah’s friends and family, without exception, advised her not to date Vinnie. 

Her mum said, ‘He’s not our sort. Too full of himself, too flash . . . there have been rumours, love, about his family.’

Leah eye-rolled. ‘What you really mean, Mum, is – he’s rich, doesn’t have to work, lives in a big house and so I’m too poor and ordinary to go out with him.’ Her voice hitched with upset. What bloody rumours? She’s making that up.

Her best mate, Marcie, said, ‘He’ll suck you dry, Leah. He’s a taker. OK, yeah, charming and fun, but you’ll end up giving way too much.’

Even her ex, Leon, gave unasked-for advice. ‘What’s he got I haven’t, babe?’ And leered. Leah raised her eyebrows. Leon rushed on. ‘Yeah, alright apart from the obvious:- expensive motorbike, big house on the hill, and comes from one of the oldest, wealthiest families in town.’ Leon’s voice broke. ‘But me, I lurve you, babe. I’m the real deal. He sure as hell ain’t. There’s something off ‘bout him.’

In Leah’s head Vinnie however was perfect. He was ‘The One’. A top-dog in the sleepy market town’s growing Goth crowd – all leathers and eye-liner. Hanging with him made her cool. Leah desperately wanted ‘in’. Being ‘out’ for much of her nearly twenty years, had really and truly sucked, big time.

She was more than surprised when their date nights were held in Vinnie’s family crypt, albeit backlit by armies of candles, choking in the haze of weed. Vinnie and his entourage lay draped over the box tombs, smoking, drinking, chilling. One follower, Luc, draped his pet python around his neck, like a living necklace. 

Leah’s nights with Vinnie and his crowd were long and louche, whereas in stark contrast, the daylight hours were a sluggish slog. Leah had to be at work at 8 a.m. prompt for an eight-hour shift on the tills at the LZ-Mini Mart. She’d slope in, dead on her feet, at 8.15, smeared in last night’s make-up and a creased mini skirt, eyes heavy, barely able to stay awake.

Marcie, popping in on her daily ciggy run, leaned over the counter. ‘It’s not healthy, Lee. This obsession or whatever you’ve got going with Vinnie.’ Leah pointedly eyed the cancer tubes clutched in her mate’s purple-painted talons. Marcie nodded. ‘Yeah, OK. But have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately? You’re in a right state, girlfriend. Your eyes look like Bloody Marys and you’re so skinny.’

Leah didn’t want to admit she’d been avoiding mirrors; had even gone so far as to cover them with throws. She found her diminishing reflection  – disconcerting. It worried her that she was disappearing; and perhaps soon she’d be invisible?

At the end of the shift Leah staggered home to her apartment, flushed pints of curdled milk and chucked the rotting vegetables, licked out the cat’s tuna tin (it’s still protein, isn’t it?) and collapsed on the sofa. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten a proper meal or come to that seen her fat tabby, Taz.

She tried to muster the energy to go call for Taz, rattle the can and tin opener, his calling card, but she couldn’t be bothered. 

Despite her lethargy, inside she felt as if she was on fire. Her muscles ached and her heart bumped hard, out of time. Only Vinnie’s arms holding her and his cool, cool lips on hers made her feel better.

It troubled her that the all night sessions with Vinnie were a blur. She couldn’t remember half of what happened in the dim-lit family crypt. Flashbacks of leering faces, and jarring moments kept recurring during the day. Tears trickled down her sunken cheeks. 

Think of something nice.

Vinnie had promised her a surprise for her birthday; a party, a feast, presents, and the best rush you’ll ever get, babe.

Leah tried to remember if today was in fact her birthday. She’d lost track. Her eye fell on the kitchen wall calendar, which showed no appointments or events penned on it. No girly nights in with Marcie, no film nights with her Mum watching rom-coms. 

Nada, zilch, zip.

Yup, birthday’s today. Wow, that’s come round fast! Where’s the time gone? 

She was so tired—drained, she thought. Perhaps she’d suggest to Vinnie they’d just stay at home and eat—pizza or … a memory of  roasting flesh slunk into her memory, along with an image of Taz’s furry face. Bile rose in her gullet. 

However she knew she’d never dare suggest anything to Vinnie. He’d take her face in his cool, cool hands, and gaze into her eyes. His dark pupils would dilate and she’d swear she could see flames dancing in their depths. 

Taz, where are you? 

Her fingers stroked the silver chain around her neck heavy with the ebony heart dangling from it. Vinnie’s latest gift.

‘From my heart to yours,’ he’d whispered, when he’d fastened it around her neck. At the same time he’d kissed her, at the exact spot where the artery pulsed and then he’d lingered there. She shivered at the memory. It had been exciting but weird. 

Now the chain would not unclasp, so Leah had had to wear it all the time, even in the shower. Though she couldn’t remember the last time she’d washed. She just wanted to sleep, but her dreams were wild – distorted faces, white-hot blazing fires and barbecues sizzling with roasted meats accompanied by full-bodied, crimson wines. Exhausted, she lay down on the soiled bedding and dropped into sleep.

She woke to the pulsing revs of Vinnie’s motorbike. Insistent, purring, calling to her. Glancing at the clock she saw it was still her birthday  – one hour of it left. Her boyfriend hadn’t forgotten. Leah pulled off her sweaty work uniform, dragged on a few days’ old dirty shorts and Tee, then she stumbled in flip-flops down the stairs and out the door to Vinnie.

‘Hi lover, you look amazing! Climb aboard.’Vinnie’s wide-toothed grin stunned her, took her breath away. He bent his head to kiss her and in that one moment she was his once again. Nothing else mattered.

Leah clung to Vinnie’s back, smelling his unique scent and relishing his firm, lean body. She didn’t protest when the bike came to a halt at the gates of the graveyard, again, though her heart sank. She also said nothing when Vinnie opened up the family crypt, with another flashing smile and a flourish of the huge, iron keys. He took her hand, guiding her down the uneven stone steps and pressed her body down upon the gravestone of ‘my great-great-great grandfather. He was a bit of a devil’. Vinnie chortled at his little joke.

Leah lay there, shivering in the chilly crypt air, in her skimpy shorts and T-shirt, drifting as though in a haze, thinking of her life before she’d met Vinnie and how black and white it had been. Vinnie had brought colour and passion into it. 

She could hear others joining them, guttural voices murmuring in tongues, her name being chanted, Leah, Leah! Join us. 

She tried to reply, tried to sit up, but found her body and voice wouldn’t cooperate. Vinnie, help me! What’s happening to me? 

Her lover’s face floated above hers, smiling, his eyes dark and deep, whispering sweet words. He bent lower, lower to her – opening his lush lips. Leah, so far gone by then, didn’t notice the length of Vinnie’s canines, or feel their razor sharp points as they punctured her neck.

Happy Birthday to you, my darling, Leah. Now you are one of us. Welcome to my family. 

There was no fear, no pain, no nothing, instead Leah felt a rush of adrenalin course through her body, heard the chanting grow louder, smelt the the group’s sweat and desire, their need and hunger. 

‘Who’s Leah?’ she whispered.

Vinnie lifted her up in his arms, turning to face his entourage. ‘Behold my bride for the coming year. Worship us.’

The flock bent their heads, the python slithered towards Leah, silent, supple and the reborn, immortal Leah felt nothing—no fear, no pain, no joy, no love—just hunger.

‘Come, take my hand, bride of my heart and of this night. Let us walk amongst the townsfolk and leave our mark upon them. Let the feasting begin!’

The girl, who was once known as Leah, rose, graceful as a cat, from the tomb. Her hair flowed in a stream of raven tresses, her lips were red and full, her flesh bore a pearly sheen. 

‘You are mine for eternity. Is this not the best birthday present ever?’ Her lover told her.

Leah’s lips turned upwards. She could hear the night animals hunting, smell the wind and the rotting bodies in the graveyard, sense the power pulsing through the un-dead in the crypt.

She felt more alive than she had ever been in her life.