Masquerade

That night Delilah dreams for the first time in a long time. It's a haunting dream, and frighteningly realistic. She's unsure where she is in the dream world, all she knows is it looks exactly like her world. Soft green grass, light blue skies and a burning bright sun. The buildings are colorful, almost cheerful looking. The only difference is the lack of people. In fact, the town seems entirely deserted.

When she reaches what appears to be a home, she sneaks up to the window and cups her hands around her face to better peer inside. The home is empty, it's furniture looking dusty. Flustered, she steps back and turns to face the street. Before she can step off the porch, a figure appears in her peripheral. She turns, smiling, and hardly suppresses a shriek of horror.

The little boy before her is missing half his jaw, and one of his eyes is dangling from the socket. Even from her distance she can see the smile upon his lips, and she struggles to keep the acids in her stomach down. With as much effort as she can muster, she shuffles a few feet towards him. The movement seems to startle him, however, and he tenses to run.

"Little boy," she calls, reaching a hand out as if it'll do anything to stop him. "little boy won't you wait? I just want to ask you some questions."

But he doesn't wait, he turns and runs, disappearing behind the nearest building. By the time Delilah's reached it, he's nowhere to be found.

"Silly woman, why won't you leave things be?" A dark voice inquires.

She turns to respond and suddenly it feels as if she's been sucker punched in her chest. The air in her lungs leaks out in a rush, and in a moment she's paralyzed, her eyes glued on the Devil himself. She wants to cry out, to run. But nothing works. Her throat is dry, unmoving and her limbs are heavy as lead.

"I give you back your old life, I rid your birthday of those murderers, and I even gave young Jameson a spot in your renewed life. Why must you chase the past?"

She wants to tell him she doesn't know what he's talking about, that she's simply dreaming. Nobody can control their dreams, so how is she to blame? And then the word 'past' works it's way through her brain and in the frantic mess, confusion finds a home. Chasing her past? But she had surely never been to such a place, never seen such a boy.

"Ah, I see the confusion in your gorgeous green eyes. Sweet Delilah, try as you must you just haven't been able to piece it together, have you?"

She expects him to free her tongue then, to allow her to answer, but no. Instead she's bombarded with images. Not just any slideshow of images, but ones of her. And Jameson, as well. She sees herself drinking from men's throats, murdering families. And then she sees the dimension she's in. See's herself acknowledging the half-jawed boy as if they're friends, sees herself arguing with Jameson. And towards the end she sees her father, sees the devil erupt from what surely was her father's carcass.

"You were a monster once. I restored you, took away your fangs and your bloodlust. I masked your memories, and rid your new life of any potential reminders. Except for Jameson, that was my one mistake. I should have left him dead, but I didn't. It seems, Delilah, that I have a sweet spot for you."

By the time he frees her from the spell he's cast, twin rivers of tears are streaming down her face. Her chest no longer aches as if it's been punched, but it feels...empty. It's then that she feels the pricks on her bottom lip and with slow, unsteady hands she reaches up and touches the fangs protruding from her gums.

"You turned me back!" she shrieks, and she charges towards him without any forethought of her actions.

Luckily for her, he simply disappears. But not without one last parting gift. Behind his retread figure lay Jameson, a pool of blood around his body, his bright eyes dull against his face. She hurries to him, throwing herself on the ground and propping his head up on her lap. Instead of that beautiful smile, he snarls at her.

"Keep your fangs away from my throat! I was meant to die this way, and so I shall."

"But you were vampire once! Don't you want to be again? I remember, I remember turning you. It was cruel and a desperate act from a hunted woman, but now I can save you." she pleads, remembering their shared moments. Their hesitant friendship. "Please."

"No," he gurgles, blood spilling from his lips. "My life was hell from the moment you turned me, and now I can finally find peace. Leave me be to die, Delilah." his tired lungs drag in a breath. "We reached as far as we could, if you think you can reach the city of angels you're wrong," he chuckles once, before a cough racks his decaying frame. "Dead wrong."

"Don't," she weeps, squeezing his hand in a vice grip so hard that he cries out. Surely she's broken his bones. "Don't leave me alone in this world."

"I don't intend to. You've met all my friends, the loyal one's with open hearts. Go to them, use them if you insist on reaching the last city. But when the Devil stops you once more, you won't forget my warning."

The last sentence seems to draw the rest of his energy out of him, and to her dismay she watches him shrivel into himself until he's nothing more than a skeleton. She'd never seen anyone die in the underworld before, and the rate of decomposition was alarming.

Gritting her teeth, she pushes to her feet.The sun is high in the sky and no longer are the roads beren. If anything they're crowded, a large circle having formed around herself and Jameson. Front and center stands his father.

"How dare you." She growls, and she leaps for his throat like a lioness heading in for a kill.