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Category: Suspense/Thriller
Description: Thoughts of the strange presence she felt in the library basement returned to her as she drove. Everyone credited her with a vivid imagination. Was it that, or was it as Raphael had said, she was clairvoyant and felt things in the air, the ghosts and spirits who brush by us those that most people never feel. Was that it? Or, was that as ridiculous as Laureen told her it was. Who was Laureen to discount what she felt. The lovely Laureen Lux who believed in vampires and werewolves and shifter and the like. They made a good pair. What one couldn't think of the other could. That thought made her smile and shudder. They often scared each other with their premonitions or 'seeing'. "There is nothing to fear but fear itself," the old saying goes, but Tiffany wasn't sure that was true where supernatural and conscious world intersected in her thoughts
eBook Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc., 2010 2010
eBookwise Release Date: July 2010

2 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [318 KB]
Words: 69048
Reading time: 197-276 min.

"Vampires! What? Are you insane? What do vampires have to do with the Maypole Dance?" Tiffany had had about enough of Laureen's foolishness. This had to stop.

Laureen raised her hand, surrender in her manner and her voice, "No, seriously. Drexel and Warren, they..." Laureen's face turned so white Tiffany was sure she was going to pass out.

"Here, here, sit," Tiffany prodded. She eased Laureen into a chair and retrieved a cold cloth from the sink to place on her forehead. Chicken soup comfort raced through her mind. What was happening to her friend? "This is the twenty-first century. No one believes in such things anymore." The only way she could think to comfort her friend was to negate the thought that vampires could exist.

"Seriously, really, they believe in them--even more, there are cults..." Laureen shot the words out like a machine gun spray. Her gaze darted from one area of the room to another as if she expected to see some evil monster appear, a vampire perhaps.

Terror seemed to define her demeanor. Tiffany didn't know what to do. She had to calm her down somehow before she totally lost it. "Okay, take a deep breath." She crouched in front of Laureen and took her hands in hers. "It's going to be okay, you'll see. We'll go to the police."

"And tell them what? Cauldron has vampires? They'll throw us both in the loony bin."

"Proof, where is your proof?"

"You mean like bite marks on my neck or something like that?" Laureen became more agitated. She wrenched her hands from Tiffany's and clutched at her own neck. She jolted out of the chair.

"You're dead serious, aren't you?" Tiffany didn't know whether to lock and bar the doors or head for the hills. Her mind raced. When Laureen came in just a short time ago, she seemed fine. How could she keep all this bottled inside her? What sort of proof did she have? What about Drexel Countdown, the man she was introduced to at the latest party Laureen held? And Warren, her significant other for over a year now, what does she mean? "What happened? You never finished telling me."

Laureen paced, stopping every few seconds to look out the windows as if she was expecting someone, or--something. It was growing dark quickly now. "We, we sh-should leave," she said wringing her hands in a desperate-appearing model of panic.

"Where should we go?"

"Away, just away." Her eyes went wide, turning the rich brown iris' tiny beads in a white field of fear.

Tiffany grabbed Laureen's hands and held her still, forcing her to look her in the eye. "Tell me about Drexel and Warren, please," she begged her friend and tried to get her to focus on something other than her fear.

Laureen burst out laughing. "It's no use. They'd find me anyway." She burst into tears, crying hysterically. No amount of trying to restrain her, trying to comfort her, worked as she spun out of Tiffany's grasp and paced the room like a caged wolf.

The action was totally unlike her. Tiffany had never seen Laureen this way and it terrified her. Tiffany dialed nine-one-one. She watched Laureen from a distance. She would not be consoled. She seemed wired with the anxiety and electricity of her mood. Tiffany saw her movements as jagged, jerking as if she truly was disjointed. Her mind seemed to be running on overload. She didn't dare try to approach her. The slightest movement might push her over that precipice she seemed to be sitting on the edge of. Tiffany held her breath. Why was it taking the ambulance so long? Where were they? What could she do to help? Now she wished she hadn't hung up on the dispatcher. She couldn't watch Laureen and listen to the chatter of that woman; her voice was like fingernails on a chalk board, it did more than irritate her. But, maybe she could have helped her somehow reach Laureen.

Sirens and red flashing lights lit up the night sky around Tiffany's home. She waited until the EMTs rang the door bell before she unlocked the door.

Laureen cried harder than Tiffany thought possible for anyone to cry. The emergency crew strapped her to a gurney and transported her to the door. "I'll follow in my car," Tiffany called as they wheeled Laureen out of the front door.

After the ambulance pulled out, sirens blaring, lights creating a macabre pattern against the buildings and trees as they sped away, Tiffany suffered the full impact of her friend's nervous collapse. She never did tell me about Drexel and Warren. Tiffany shuddered, slipped into her jacket and grabbed her keys from the rack by the door as she hurried to follow the ambulance.