Happily never after...(The end)

Sirius—

Everything was pitch black, still and frozen. Holding me down with an indescribable weight. My lungs collapsing. Ahh, this feeling. I have only heard of it through faint whispers. I am drowning.

Heard rumors that vampires couldn’t swim. Panic froze them, like water to fire. It didn’t matter whether or not you could swim before your change. Yeah, I was one who hadn’t learned how to swim before either, so it didn’t matter at the end of the night to begin with. There was no one there to teach me. My grandmother wasn’t much of a swimmer either, so the topic never came up all that much. Not that matters now. Just my luck, huh? Got to slay the big bad guy in the end, and now here we are.

Oddly, the cold finally disturbed me. Maybe it’s because I feel alone. The weight on my lungs was excruciating. Water was already flooding them. That much was clear.

This was about to be a slumber I would never wake from. It was frightening to watch it come. The very last moments close in, a shroud of darkness enveloping you like a blanket embrace. It was slow, but I could feel it, my consciousness slipping before my eyes…

“…Si…”

“…”

“…Si…ri…”

There it is, that weird thing that happens when you hear something but don’t grasp it immediately. And just like before, it clicks, just like to one’s fingers, and you realize you heard it right the first time.

“Siri, wake up!”

“BLRGHHHHAAAA…” My entire inside curled as I twisted over to spew water. My eyes, my head, my bloody nose, it all hurt all over.

“Come on, girl…” whimpered a voice on the precipice of crying. A grown man slouched over me with a bit of grey in his cinnamon beard and curly short hair, soaking and shivering.

“Well, well,” I offered. My throat was hoarse as I coughed. From where I stood by the river, I could see the burning hotel. It lit up the neighborhood like a massive candle. “Fancy seeing you here, Lieutenant—”

He then pulled me in. Hugging me with his broad arms and shaking chest. He was shivering, and despite my lack of body warmth, he brought me in all the same if it would make a difference.

Thanks, old man. Thank you…

Before I realized it, I was tearing up and choking over my silent words as I hugged him back.

***

Christmas Day brought a chilling, cloudy, and torrential snowfall. Many, myself included, didn’t expect it to be a white Christmas, leaving no doubt quite a few folks stuck inside while the city handled clean-up on various fronts.

Days later, I helped him with Frank after the storm died down and they had mostly cleared the roads. I didn’t know him long, but Woods told me a story or two while we took to burying him.

He sounded like a right douche if I had to say so, but my personal opinions didn’t matter as he also sounded like a good friend.

“To Frankie…”

“To Uncle Frank,” I said, accepting the glass bottle filled with their favorite dark liquor drink from Woods to pour.

“When did you call him uncle?” He asked.

“Around the same time, I started calling you old man.”

“I am not that old.”

“Tell the few grays on your chin that.”

Woods sucked his teeth, his hand coming down to bring me in and ruffle fingers through my hair. He regretted it instantly, easing a few steps back, making the space between us awkward. Not as awkward as the service that was to be had in a few days for Frank, which would have an empty casket, though.

“So, uh, how is everything with you?”

“Fine…” I answered.

“Going to have a New Year’s party?”

“Uhhh, I don’t really do parties…”

“Oh, okay… How’s Grams?”

Grams is still Grams. When I first saw her, she looked well. Several decades shaved off your age can do that to you. Don’t get me wrong, seeing her doing yoga now while eating and watching her favorite game show is a sight I never thought I would see in my wildest dreams. So yes, of course, I was shocked when I saw her at first. She didn’t want to talk about it — the life she used to have. Just that the birth of Mom changed a lot for her. The love she had for her and the love she had for me. Still, it didn’t quell my persistence in asking about the witch who cursed our family.

“When you get older, I’ll tell ya.”

What a sick joke that is.

As for the friend, the friend who told me a tale about her and mother, well, she is still around. I sometimes feel her gaze lurking in the shadows. Evelyn was always a mysterious one. Taking the time to creep up on me and surprise me in my apartment without me even hearing a sound. She told the story of why she turned me amidst the Christmas Day blizzard. It was hard to believe her, but Grams gave it the co-sign of approval. To let me think for so long that the monster who turned me and the one who killed my mother were the same had me vexed to say the least.

When I asked why, neither told me. They spoke only of how they believed it was for the best. I’m not sure myself, but then again, how can I complain? I am here now with the choices I made.

My actions will have consequences, or so Evelyn says. But whose choices don’t?

She spoke of how the city would be a very different place now. With the head gone, Velvet Royal Heights will need new management.

It, much like the city, will be a battlefield for those pining to fill the vacuum left by those I had disposed of. That’s the thing about the shadows. They take over the corners wherever someone snuffs out the light.

It’s not my problem. It shouldn’t be, but anyone can say that. Never truly your problem until it is.

“So what about tomorrow? Want to, uh, well, go out to eat?”

“Can’t. I…” The words upon my lips hesitated. “…I uhh, going on a…um, a date.”

“Excuse me?! With whom?! What do they do for work? When have—”

“He’s a nurse, and I—it wasn’t my idea! Grams is at fault!”

“Unbelievable that woman is…” Woods sucked his teeth before bringing his lips to the brim of his glass. He halted just a hair’s breadth away, to smell the scent of the honey-colored liquor before pouring it out at the foot of the car door. “Well, do you find them—you know? Nice?”

“He’s…nice.”

“Mmm-hmmm,” the old man groaned, getting in. His face was purely disgruntled and frustrated, and it was sort of humorous to look to it. Like him, I was also at a loss for words. I could never find it in myself to face a mirror head-on, yet my old man stared at me with a very familiar, awkward grin. Sometimes, I’m told I do the same, so I suppose I was closest to looking at myself. “Well, whatever… Let’s head out. We've got one more stop now, don’t we?”

“Yeah…” I said. We were going to head to the place where my mother was buried next to mourn her. But as I leaned back to get comfortable for the ride, from the corner of my eye, just barely in view, a little boy with a crooked smile stood off in the distance. His face was riddled with scars that decorated his cheeks and forehead more like whiskers.

Trouble. Like I said, it is never truly yours until it is.

Funny, ain’t it? How vast this city is with all its corners and crevices. Scurrying rats and rodents. The chances of running into me by mere coincidence are slim to none. And it’s all because these monsters really don’t fear me. But they should.

Crossing my path, stepping into my shadow, and burning what I care for will make me exact the same price on them.

Anger is my tool, a weapon that I wear like a coat melted into my bones. Maybe there was a different path, but it wasn’t the one I am on now.

There is no need to warn them. If they are bold enough to disturb a slumbering lion, then they should expect their claws and fangs to remind them not to make the same mistake again.