Excerpt from Edelwood
A grave shriek escaped her lungs as though great invisible hands squeezed it from her.
His right cheek was melted. Strands of facial viscera and sinew hung from his exposed and charred jawbone like thick, white worms. His right eye was in a broken orbital and his iris hung loose beneath the lens. She could see in the flickering firelight where the skin of his right arm and leg had melded with his silken smoking jacket.
Cora Poe 2020
Excerpt from Bloody Little Sherry
Grammpa always called her Miss Sherry when he felt like spoiling her, which was often. Sherry’s little chest burst with excitement,
“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Thanks, Grammpa! Let’s go!”
The old man helped her out of the car and made her hold his hand through the parking lot as he always did, taking at least a hundred times longer than she would have liked to get inside. Finally, through the automatic doors, Grammpa looked down at her expectant, little face and gave her a warm nod. She instantly darted to the candy and snacks isle to see what possible three treats lay in wait of her choosing.
Arms full of two gluttonous bags of candy, she scampered down the aisle halfway and stopped, looking straight up. Not at the Zag-nuts, but the row of dolls, twist-tied to stand pristinely in their boxes which lined the very top of the candy shelves. A smile, minus two front teeth gleamed up at the lovely dolls; her third Halloween treat. Sherry dropped her armful of sweets and began to climb. Knee to hand, hand to knee, and over again, up and up she went. Finally, she stood on her knees in the second-to top shelf precariously, her shins and feet jutting out into the upper atmosphere of the candy aisle. She held on with one hand and grabbed her favorite doll with the other. The tiny plastic girl had bouncy golden curls, soft features, and painted freckles. LOVES TO TALK, SAYS YOUR NAME, AND LEARNS TO WALK, the box promised with a happy rhyme. Sherry’s eyes sparkled in the fluorescent lights. Sherry was just beginning to make her descent when Grammpa rounded the corner.
“Ahhhg! Sherry!” He shouted horrified at his tiny granddaughter, twice his height from the hard linoleum floor.
“Oh!” Sherry gasped as she lost her balanced. Grammpa screamed as a body fell and hit the floor. Thankfully it was the doll’s and not his sweet grandbaby’s.
He rushed over as fast as his old hips and knees would take him, reaching up to help Sherry down from the high shelf. She was already sobbing.
“I’m sorry, Grammpa! I’m sorry!” She spewed, wiping snot and tears with the back of her Orangesicle-orange cardigan sleeve.
“It’s alright, child. I say, it’s alright!” He said. He grabbed a tiny shoulder in each hand, “Don’t. You. Ever. Do that again, ya hear?” He gave her a little shake with each syllable.
Sherry cried more then nodded. He pulled her in tight, hugging her small body, thankful for her to be safely back at sea level.
“Can I still have the doll?” She was holding the badly dented box up, the beautiful doll stared him in the face.
He snorted, preparing to say no, thinking it ridiculous she’d even ask, then surprised himself with, “Of course, sweetpea, you went to all that trouble to get her, now, didn’t you?”
That evening, after Mommy and Momma tucked Sherry in, Grammpa came into her bedroom with a grim look on his deeply lined face. Sherry lay there snuggled and safe as a bug in a rug. Her sweet, new doll lay in the crook of her shoulder, its golden curls and head peeking out of the covers like a real person may sleep.
“What’s wrong, Grammpa?” Sherry inquired, concerned by the glower on her father figure’s face.
“Nothing, child. You just frightened me today at the store. If your mothers and I are going to trust you out of our sight, you have to be more careful. Think about your actions. Ask yourself ‘Sherry, is this safe?’ and answer yourself before doing things, okay, Sweetpea?”
“Yes, Grammpa. I understand, I’m sorry.”
“Its alright. Now tell me about your little friend here,” He redirected to the dolly, tickling its feet with a knobby finger from above the covers. Sherry grinned.
“Well, her name is Cathy, and she goes to the same school as me, and she can do magic tricks like Doug Henning, and loves to go on walks, and play hide-and-seek with me. Sometimes she’s nice and sometimes she’s really mean,” Sherry spouted in one ecstatic breath.
“She sounds like quite the character, ma’dear. Well off to sleep with you both,” He smiled with kind eyes.
“Night, Grammpa. I love you so much, thank you for Cathy.”
“Welcome, Sherry. Sweet dreams.”
He kissed her forehead and then Cathy’s as well. Sherry giggled in delight of the equal treatment of her new friend. He walked away, and softly closed the door, leaving only a sliver of light from the hallway nightlight to leak through. The little girl’s eyes grew heavy with the weight of the big day she had had and drifted off to sleep.
Sherry sprang up to a sitting position and looked around wide-eyed. She had sweat through her pajamas and her cheeks were wet with tears. A terrible nightmare, already forgotten. She wiped her face with the back of her fists, breathing frantic, deep breaths. She grabbed for Cathy: nothing. Sherry dug around in her sheets feverishly looking for her friend to console her. But alas, the doll was gone. Sherry grew angry as she manifested the narrative in her mind that Grammpa had come in and taken Cathy, having decided to punish her after all and threw the Snoopy-print duvet from her legs with a melodramatic flourish. She swung her tender, tiny feet onto the shag carpet and felt a cold, wet slop between her toes.
“Ewww,” She remarked to herself, grimacing at the unpleasant sensation. Just then, a voice cut the night with strange clarity, like all other sound had ceased from existence.
“Sherry, I took my first step,” The voice said with light, eerie melody.
Sherry’s eyes squinted in the darkness. Her bedroom door was open a bit wider than it had been left by Grammpa. And with the hall nightlight no longer on, she couldn’t see anyone through broadened crack. She stood and was instantly reminded of the vicious substance beneath her feet. She looked down to find a large, dark stain. Momma’s watering can lay empty on its side to Sherry’s left, the same dark liquid dripping from the nozzle. Sherry started to think about how strange all this was and her anger subsided, slowly transforming into curiosity with a skosh of fear. The little girl approached her bedroom door slowly, tracking dark liquid across the floor in her wake. She peeked carefully through the door, open just wide enough for her whole face to peer through. No one there.
“Sherry, I took my first step,” The voice sang again. Sherry decided it sounded like it was coming from downstairs. She rushed to the corner of her room and thrust herself into her toy chest which overflowed with stuffed animals and patterned blankets. She emerged triumphantly with her Snoopy flashlight.
Down the hallway Sherry went, feeling brave with her beloved flashlight in hand and favorite long-sleeve night gown warm around her. At the top of the stairs, Sherry shone her light down into the living room, a dark, heavy feeling moving into her stomach. She gulped and began her decent, ignoring her fear and pressing onward like a fearless knight. As she stepped down onto the living room rug, she felt the cold, wetness between her toes again, the dark liquid soaking the bottom of her floor-length flannel nightgown. She grimaced and slowly scanned the room with her flashlight.
“Sherry, I took my first step,” It was clear as a bell and much louder.
Sherry approached the area she suspected the sound was coming – around on the front side of the orange sofa. Its just like hide-and-seek, she thought to herself in a vain attempt to lower her heart rate. She inched around the side of the sofa. Her Snoopy flashlight shook anxiously in her little hands. Grammpa came into view. He was lying on his back atop the coffee table, arms awkwardly outstretched and bent at the elbow, legs limply slumped off the sides.
“Grammpa,” Sherry started, an amused smirk starting on her face. She finished her journey to the front of the sofa, “What’re you do-.”
The flashlight hit the floor.
Sherry stood vacantly as she absorbed the scene before her.
Cora Poe 2021
Excerpt from The Last One
She decided to take this meal to-go, leaving a trail of sinew and organs stretched across the nature park. The unfortunate jogger watched the monster leave parts of him littered in the dirt and leaves, even watched as his own liver plunked into a stream as she hurtled over it. They darted through forest and meadow, and he was helplessly nearing death in her clutches. She stopped momentarily and scarfed her caught meal before it went cold. Blood and viscera coated her hands and face in a rich, textured sheen of burgundy. Aurélie began to head back toward her friend, the friend that did not mean to hurt her, the friend that could not have known how to hurt her.
Two silhouetted bodies in hostile stances blocked her path just before the exit of the park. Aurélie halted defensively then smiled, immediately recognising their scents upon sniffing the cool, night air for them.
‘We did not recognise your aroma at first. Don’t you smell like the geriatric ward,’ Joan teased, her mouth pulled into a prickly smirk.
‘Oh, don’t be that way, Joan,’ Her partner, Camila, scolded warmly then continued, ‘How delightful to run into you here, Aurélie. We were just speaking of you the other day,’ She cooed benevolently.
‘All good things, I’m sure,’ Aurélie rolled her eyes and tossed the jogger’s head and whatever lengths of flesh remained attached into the bushes beside them, then looked back to the couple casually, ‘What’re you two doing out on a beautiful evening like this? Shouldn’t you be draining chauvinist hipsters in a nightclub somewhere?’
Like Aurélie, Joan and Camila had sapphic preferences all their lives and deaths. The two had been romantically involved since before Aurélie met either of them and knew they were a package deal. Their usual hunting grounds were night clubs, frat parties, and dive bars. Anywhere a couple of angsty lesbians with superspeed and inhuman strength could find a rapist to remove from society or when they were fighting, even just a man or four guilty of displaying toxic masculinity in public. They were discreet in these nightlife environments as eternal twenty-one-year-olds, and inconspicuous in their kills. It made sense to Aurélie why this atmosphere might grow tiresome, especially to Joan. Despite Camila and Aurélie’s habit for sporadic and fleeting love affairs with one another, Joan was a sapphic vampyre sired during the Silent Generation. Joan was merely pleased to witness as much Queer love as possible and never seemed to mind sharing. She never felt threatened by Aurélie and Camila’s many commonalities, their relatively common romps, nor felt any degree of ownership over her devoted partner. Joan’s displeasure with Aurélie and vice versa, was purely from a values disagreement the two had regarding sentimentality regarding humans.
‘I’ve grown tired of the flashing lights and horrid noises humans are calling music these years,’ Joan answered, ‘So I suggested we have a romantic stroll in the park for dinner instead. We have been disappearing people from this nature park for months, but,’ Joan watched Aurélie use her sleeve to wipe the wet blood still steaming from her chin. Then Joan and glanced at the bush she’d carelessly tossed the flesh be-ribboned head into, and met Aurélie ’s gaze again with an eyebrow much high than the other, ‘now we will certainly have to find a new place to hunt after all the evidence you’ve undoubtedly left behind. Seriously, doll. You still smell like decay. How long had it been since you’d had someone to drink?’
‘Nine weeks,’ Aurélie dropped her gaze to her boots, knowing full well it had been at least twelve weeks since she had made tending to and make arrangements for Bloom a fulltime occupation.
‘Aurélie ! I’m surprised you were able to keep your head on straight at all! Halfway to ghouldom, starving yourself like that!’
‘I know, I know. It Bloom, they’re si--
‘You’re still wasting time playing with humans? Bloom, Bloom,’ Joan rolled their name over in her mouth like a marble she was determined to extract flavour from, ‘shouldn’t that one be dead by now? B—’
‘Keep their name out of your maw, Joan, or I’ll remove it along with your tongue!’ Aurélie threw like knives, followed by a guttural hiss.
‘Why, Aurie, you are so uptight. Humans fall apart in our mouths or on their own by the millions each day, why are you so concerned with this one, the sooner they’re gone, the better, I s—’
‘Oh, shut the fuck up, Joan, you are only angry because the bastard that sired you left you to your own devices, leading to you murdering everyone that you loved back in goddamn 1972, so don’t fucking come at me with that bullshit! I know you loved your family and still miss them and that was a hundred twenty years ago! I am hurting now. I am thirstier than I’ve been in decades, my best friend is dying, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t project your self-hatred for murdering your entire family onto me. Treat your own fucking trauma before you even glance at anyone else’s. For fuck’s sake how does your whole generation still manage to make me sick?’
Camila stood with her mouth open in shock. She could empathise with the abyssal loneliness before Aurélie , and knew Joan could be an ignorant projectionist, as she was alive before mental health existed and was commonly the cause of their own fights. Joan’s enraged face quickly fell to guilt. The three stood in silence for an awkward eon that truly was only a few seconds.
‘Look, Aur. I care about you and do not want to see you hurting unnecessarily. Since you have assuredly ruined this park as a place for low-profile hunting, why don’t you join us for a proper meal before you go?’ Joan asked in repentance.
‘I should really get back to Bloss—’
‘Oh, darling, we insist!,’ Camila interrupted like a ray of sunlight, ‘Plus it has been so long since I spend time with someone my own age,’ Camila smiled dangerously and Joan rolled her eyes again, smiling too.
Camila was only five years older than Aurélie and they had been reborn the same week. Through the decades, Camila and Aurélie had filled a niche void in each other’s arms. Their spotty yet utilitarian relationship was one of many the two of them had with countless others through the years. Most deathless people Aurélie had met believed monogamy had little meaning in the face of forever. And so she adopted this belief too.
Camila walked over and took her hand, licked some blood and viscera that remained on her cheek, pecked the clean spot. Aurélie giggled and nodded. They broke into sprint in three directions back into the park which now wore a bespoke suit of mist. Camila, the most beautiful of the three stopped a couple of thin men on an evening run, blocking their path with her body, asking for help to find her little dog. The performance was moving and mildly hilarious as she changed her voice and mannerisms just for the show of it.
She lured them to their deaths with a valley-girl siren’s song, ‘I like.. can’t find her! She’s a designer dog, like, a papillon-mini-poodle mix and like, my sweet baby, please! Her name is Parris but, like, responds best to Peepee.’
The men looked at each other, one casually stretching as he listened to her tearful tale of woe. The other seemed to have to take no pity on her and shamelessly looked her up and down, gaze lingering at her crotch, then up to her supple breasts in her lowcut jumpsuit which gleamed milky in the mist-diluted moonlight. Before either of the men could respond, Aurélie and Joan attacked from left and right sides of the forest, cracking the men’s heads together. Their skulls like smashed pumpkins, removing an arm and leg from each. The two men hit the earth with a slushy thud and the three women ate and drank. Camilla and Aurélie shared an impassioned kiss or two in the steam that wafted from the fresh meat. Camila always got caught up in the passion of the hunt. Joan smiled to herself, enjoying the smaller branches of her partners’ romantic tree. The two men only twitched as they haemorrhaged out into the damp soil and into the razor-lined lips of the three vampyres.
Feeling fully like herself again, Aurélie hugged Joan and kissed Camila goodbye, promising to have another dinner party again soon. She ran back to the assisted thriving hospital with pep in her step, concocting the best way to apologise. After considering some unwelcome human advice Joan had offered over dinner, Aurélie decided the best course of action would be to finally tell Bloom the truth about the night she had been turned. ‘Humans love juicy truths on their death beds,’ Joan had said. Aurélie felt confident in this decision and quickened her pace. Vitality replenished, she made short work of the journey back to the old folks home.
Cora Poe 2022