The Poison Ring
“What are you doing in my neighborhood again, Little Vampire?” The Brazilian yelled from a table outside a club transformed from a Victorian-styled house near Frenchman.
The girl stopped in her tracks, looking around for the familiar voice. Spotting him sitting with a few male friends, she sauntered over to the table. “I was just bored, out taking a stroll.”
“It is night time, your time to come play,” he chuckled. “Elle es mon amie, une vampira.”
A scarred faced man with long black hair extended a hand, “mucho gusto.”
“She’s a vampire? I guess I can see that,” a large black man piped up. “She looks so pretty though.”
“Don’t they always?” The Brazilian man smiled adoringly at the girl, “but she’s so good, like the scream of a butterfly. You don’t expect it from her, as she is not all pale skinned with everything dyed black like the usual. Her light hair and sun-kissed skin almost fools you, but her smile gives it away.”
“Does it?” Flashing a smile, she made sure to show off her canines.
“I think it’s her nails,” a blue-eyed stranger appeared next to her, grabbing her hand to examine her nails. “These have to be natural, because they’re all different lengths.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “I don’t really do anything to them; I just let them grow. Sometimes one will break, then another will. I just let them do their own thing.”
“Look at this one,” he held up her thumb to the crowd. “That’s crazy long.”
“Who are you?” She examined his face, noting a gap between his front teeth and pointy canines. “Are you a vampire, too?”
Chuckling at her, he held up her ring finger. “This nail is crazy, too, but I think the ring is more interesting. Is it a poison ring?”
“Yes,” she said nonchalantly.
“Black onyx poison ring on your wedding finger? You must be the Black Widow. Do you plan to kill your husband?”
“I’m not married.”
“So you want to be a widow, and you will kill your husband?”
“What do you mean?”
“Black onyx on your wedding finger, a ring to put your arsenic…”
She cut him off, “what if it’s cyanide?”
Rolling his eyes at her, he smiled, “whatever poison you choose. Either one will kill him, and you are to be a widow.”
The Brazilian observed, “look at her, surrounded by men. More and more keep walking up, and she barely notices.”
As if pulled out of a trance, she looked up, “huh?”
“She smiles so nicely, being polite to everyone but not really caring for anyone.”
“I’m not like that,” she tried to object.
“Shhh,” he cooingly hushed her. “All vampires are. She’ll hide out for a while, then re-appear, always at night. Parading around, she’ll be polite, even flirty and seductive, but she gives nothing, only takes and leaves.”
“That sounds so bad,” she muttered. “I totally give though, sometimes. I mean, I took him to go see a movie.”
The black man protested, “she’s crafty. I thought we were going to see something good, but she took me to this G-rated Disney movie.”
“Wasn’t it good? I liked it…”
“It was cute. I’m not going to say it wasn’t, but it just wasn’t what I expected it to be,” he chuckled.
“Whatever. I liked it,” she said flatly. “It was about a princess who did not know she was a princess, and she had to go through all this stuff before she could be queen, which included the search for a husband.”
“May I escort you this evening? It can be like the Disney movie you saw.”
The girl looked up into the blue eyes of the stranger. “If it is to be like the movie, then present me with a tiara. Once I have a tiara on my head, then we can talk about you escorting me.”
“You just like making fun of people.”
“No, I don’t,” she snapped resentfully.
“Did you hear that slight tone of a dominatrix?” The Brazilian howled an evil chuckle.
Be with Damien
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