Short Stories

Benefits Of Short Stories
If you have never considered the benefits of reading short stories this may be the time to do so. Some people tackle novels when they are just starting to get interested in reading, but this can be a time-consuming task. The great thing about reading short stories is that these are stories that are not time consuming. You get a chance to slip away to another world, but it's not something that is going to consume an entire evening or night, which means you can relax and enjoy a good story while still making it to work on-time the next morning.
Here are a few novels and short stories to help you relax and unwind after your hectic day!





Jaq opened his eyes to a man holding a stake to his heart. Grabbing the shaft, he shoved it away from his body, thankful that vampires no longer slept in coffins. If he had been sleeping in a coffin, the stake would have bounded off the hardwood sides and into his body.

Jaq sprung from the bed before his assailant could recover. A sound from behind told Jaq there was someone else in the room. He turned and grabbed the woman’s arm flinging her forward into a wall so he could keep an eye on them both.

Jaq wasn’t surprised when the woman grabbed a cross from her pocket. Stepping forward, he swatted it from her hand and slapped her across the face. “Idiot,” he said before dissipating into the shadows and leaving his would-be killers alone in the eighteenth-century Victorian mansion. His Indianapolis haven was no longer safe. It was fine. He had a room permanently booked at the Terre Haute House in Terra Haute, Indiana.


Shadow got the call to come to the front desk four hours into her shift – midnight. She had another two hours before her shift ended. So far, the calls to the front desk were few and far between – toilet paper, fresh towels, condoms for the girls working the floors. They were busy tonight, but Shadow wasn’t.

“Shad, the new guy on the top floor wants you.” Kristy said.

“No,” Shadow said. “I told you no when he first walked in last month. You knocked. You take him.” Kristy was nuts in Shadow’s opinion. She’d fuck anything for the right price. So it wasn’t a surprise that she had knocked on Mr. Creepy’s door, looking for a trick. He’d reserved the room under the name Jacques Dark. Shadow was positive it was fake, but didn’t question it. It wasn’t her place to validate the guests. Plus, he was already out of place in Terre Haute - long dark hair, broad shoulders, deep black eyes, and pale skin. He didn’t fit. Shadow figured he was from New York or LA. The man had called once and asked for another bedspread. Shadow had obliged by handing it to Frank, the custodian.

“You should really do it,” Kristy said.

“Why?” Shadow asked.

“Extra money, Shad. I know you need it,” she said.

“Not him. Plus there’s no one to watch the front desk,” Shadow said.

“Jill said she’d do it. They’re wearing her out tonight.” Kristy laughed.

Shadow groaned. “Where is she?” Just then the elevator door dinged and opened. “Nevermind. Found her.” Shadow hung up the phone.

“You can’t turn this down.” Jill said as she approached the desk.

“I know I can’t turn it down. The car’s broke again, and walking late at night isn’t my thing.” Shadow said.

“So get moving. He’s waiting.”

Shadow huffed as she walked from behind the desk and took the elevator to the top floor. Mr. Creepy had to have the best room in the house – the Presidential suite. No ego there. She leaned against the back of the elevator and watched the numbers simultaneously light up and ding. The elevator was slow. There was no denying it. Then again, the girls liked to perform quickies between floors. Shadow reflexively stepped away from the wall. Luckily, this was her floor.

She stepped out of the elevator and gasped. “Kandis! Not in the hallway.” Shadow said as she approached Kandis and the John she was servicing.

“Oh come on.” Her voice was half a pant.

“Jacob will have a fit. Go to a room.” Shadow said.

“His wife is in the room.”
“I don’t care if the pope is in his room, not in the damned hallway.” Shadow said. She waited while the duo got onto the elevator before proceeding to Creepy’s door.

She paused. This really wasn’t a good idea. What if he was a mass murderer like Jack the Ripper? She wouldn’t have to worry about car repairs.

Shadow laughed at her own morbid thoughts before silencing herself and knocking on the door. Maybe he wouldn’t answer. No such luck. Two seconds later, the door opened revealing Mr. Creepy in his black cloaked greatness.

“Welcome.” He said and motioned her inside.

The extra bedspread had been placed across the room’s largest window. Anyone else might have mistaken it for a heavy curtain, but Shadow knew the pattern.

“Not up for a view?” she asked.

“Not tonight.” Jaq said and motioned for her to sit.

Shadow sat down in the nearest chair and watched him. His movements were strange. Though, she couldn’t place the oddity. He wasn’t broken anywhere that she could see. There was no lurch in his step. Both arms appeared healthy from beneath his suit and cloak.

Jaq closed and locked the door. “Do you know why I asked for you?”

“Sex.” She assumed anyway. Really, he could have wanted anything from sex to a quiet conversation to a bedtime story. None of the scenarios were unfamiliar to her.

“Are you comfortable with that?” Jaq asked.

“There is a price.” Shadow said.

“Five hundred a night.” Jaq said.

“All night?” Shadow asked.

“All night any night I want you.” He said.

“Are you serious?”

“Completely,” he said.

Jaq stood in front of her. Shadow figured he was at least six feet tall if not taller. He towered over her.

“You can pick it up off the dresser each morning, but please do not wake me and do not open any curtains.” Jaq said.

Those weren’t the strangest requests Shadow had ever heard. In fact, they were rather mild. “Deal,” she said with her eyes firmly planted on his chest then his shoulders. Anywhere but his eyes.

Jaq leaned forward and lifted her chin. “Do they tell you not to look at your clients?”

She was timid for her industry, but Jaq liked it. That was why he had chosen her and none of the others. They were too bold. Likely they’d ask him if he wanted them to perform vile acts on his genitalia. Of course, he did not.

“They tell us to be respectful,” Shadow said.

Jaq kissed her gently – first, her forehead, then her eyes, nose, and finally mouth. All the while pulling her closer until he lifted her from the chair and carried her to the bed. “I don’t bite unless asked.” Jaq had no intention of hurting her. He wanted to relax next to a warm body. His childe was a different story. Jaq would have to make sure he never saw her.

Shadow slid her arms under his cloak and wasn’t surprised to learn he was well muscled. He looked strong and had picked her up with little effort. She slid her hands down his back, along his sides, and finally up his chest. She wanted to know what she was getting into. Though, his kisses told her she might enjoy it.

Jaq pulled the straps of her dress down revealing her small yet well-shaped breasts. He wasn’t disappointed as he procured one nipple with his mouth. He sucked on each point alternatively until they hardened, and she moaned. Jaq was quite sure the sound was involuntary as he hadn’t ever met a prostitute that voluntarily enjoyed payment sex. However, he wanted her to enjoy this. It did him no good to offer her money only for her to refuse because of pain or displeasure. Jaq wanted her knocking on his door for more.

Shadow lowered her hands to his belt and easily slid the tongue though the buckle. It didn’t take her long to free his growing erection, and she slid her hand along the shaft, paying special attention to the head. Her eyes widened when she realized the head was swelling out of his foreskin. He was uncut! This was a first.

Jaq sucked on her lower lip, careful not to cut her with his extended fangs. He knew she was excited. A gently tug on his penis told him she wanted to be penetrated. He was, however, very conscious of his size in comparison to her tiny body. Even his Bonded, Adrienne, had issues when it came to sex with him. Perhaps, this was his reason for turning to prostitutes. They couldn’t complain, and he often fed from them afterword, sometimes killing them, sometimes not.

He pressed the head of his sex against her opening, allowing her hand to guide him. She was wet. He could feel her warmth and the resulting fluid as he pushed for entrance.

Shadow stilled when she felt the beginnings of penetration. First the head. It was so slow. She looked up at Jaq only to receive a lustful kiss. Then the shaft. He was inching his way inside. It did nothing to dim her anticipation. She shifted her hips into a more comfortable position and opened her legs wider. She was rewarded with a faster thrust. He was almost entirely inside!

“Pain?” Jaq asked.

“More.” She was almost panting.

Jaq slipped his hands beneath her butt and tilter her hips. The last three inches were always the most difficult. Most females simply didn’t have the length he needed even if they could accommodate the girth. Shadow seemed undaunted by both which only furthered his excitement.

Shadow slid her hands along his back. None of the other patrons had ever gone this slow. It was refreshing, yet odd. Most of them simply hiked up her skirt and inserted themselves after donning a condom. Condom! He wasn’t wearing one. Shadow squirmed and tensed.

Jaq stopped mid thrust and looked down at her.


He blinked. “Condom?”

“You need one,” Shadow said.

Jaq blinked again. He almost asked why before it dawned on him. He kissed her gently. “You can’t catch anything from me not even pregnancy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. It’s impossible.” He kissed her again to reassure her. “In fact, if you catch anything from me, I’ll pay for everything.”

“Is that a deal?” Shadow asked.

“Yes, but you must promise that our agreement is exclusive. No others until I check out of this room.”

“At 500 a night?” she asked.

“600 for exclusivity.” Jaq said as he slowly finished burying himself inside her.


Jaq kissed her passionately, intertwining his tongue with hers. He could feel her hips meeting his slow thrusts and began to piston. He was close, and she was getting tighter.

Shadow gripped his back, blunt nails digging into the fabric of his cloak. She could feel everything. He was touching every part of her, filling her, forcing her to give him every inch of available space. Her moans were becoming more frequent. “It’s big…”

“And getting bigger.” He ached. The throb was starting, and Jaq heard his own moan as they connected solidly on each thrust. He was nearing the edge and quickened his pace. “It’s close.”

Shadow screamed for more, for him to take her harder. The tingling sensations were coming. Her thighs tensed, toes curled as she spasmed violently beneath him, chest heaving.

Jaq grunted, moaned, and pushed their hips close, sheathing himself completely inside her. What passed for his sexual fluid burst from his cock, and he pushed with each spurt. It went on for more than a minute. “Just a little more.” One final grunt, and he slid his hands under her body, cradling her in his relief

Shadow inhaled deeply. Had she known it was going to be this good, she would have done it for free.

Jaq rolled off her and tugged her against his body out of habit. She wasn’t going anywhere tonight.

Shadow nuzzled her head against his side. “Every night?”

“More nights than not.” Jaq said as he closed his eyes. The sun was upon them.

He knew she’d never deny him. It was in her body language. He doubted she’d ever want anyone else either. It was exactly as Jaq wanted.


Several hours later, Shadow shifted and opened her eyes. She was still in the hotel room laying next to Jaq. She stretched. She couldn’t stay here all day. Jaq said he didn’t want woken. A glance at the clock told her it was nine in the morning She rubbed her eyes and inhaled.

Slowly, She slipped from the bed, dressed and collected the 600 dollars. Luckily, she knew a back way out of the hotel. She didn’t need the day staff knowing she had stayed the night. To further matters, she didn’t know what to do with the money. She had never made 600 in one night. She certainly couldn’t take it to the bank.

By the time she arrived home, she had a solution. Shadow placed the money in a brown paper bag and hid it inside her bedroom closet. There was a small gap between the shelf and the wall. It had proved useless until now. Now, she would hide all the money Jaq gave her minus the car repairs bills until she needed it.


Jaq took a deep breath and opened his eyes. It was night. A quick glance to the dresser showed no money. Shadow had woken at some point during the day, taken the money and left. He would see her tonight. Though, he had a few things to do before spending time with her. First and foremost on his mental list was a house. There was a two story colonial with a wrap around porch on Church street. It looked big enough, but he needed to see it for himself.

After showering and dressing in his customary black suit and cloak, he headed downstairs. His Rolyes Royce Silver limousine was waiting for him by the lobby doors.

“Where to?” His driver asked.

“Church street. I want to take a look at that house you found yesterday.” Jaq said.

No sooner had the luxurious black limousine turned the corner when Jaq saw the house. “Stop here.” He didn’t want to get too close. There was no telling who actually owned it or if they were at home. Not to mention, any nosy neighbors.

There was no front yard to speak of. That did not bode well with Jaq. There was no place to build a wall. The tubed flier listed the property as having 12 bedrooms and eight bathrooms, two kitchens, and multiple fireplaces. Jaq knew he couldn’t view it tonight. He’d have to find someone to view it for him during the day. It was an issue, but not one he was unaccustomed to. Perhaps, he’d ask Shadow. The sooner he decided on a house, the sooner he could contact the rest of his family.

 -----------------------END of SAMPLE--------------------

This is a sample chapter for a novel I plan to finish sometime in 2019 or early 2020.  It's currently still titled with its theme and not an actual title.  It's probably going to be another series, and it may very well be the Shadow Conn series.



Read More from Stacey Carroll


Blooddoll1FullCoverADTHE BLOODDOLL FACTORY Kindle Edition

An unemployed male nurse lands a job at a reproductive clinic only to learn the babies he is helping to create are being sold to the local vampire population.​

After being unemployed for a year, William finally receives a call to come into Elite Surrogates and Adoption (ESA) for an interview. The sterile white interior does nothing for his confidence as he’s led to Sadie Jones' (HR manager’s) office where she proceeds to question him about his job experience and reproductive knowledge. 

It all goes well in this paranormal medical romance until William realizes that he’s going to have to “perform” for the job. Fifty dollars an hour would help him catch up on his mortgage and get his wife to stop nagging him about the bills. However, using his own semen to propagate the reproductive cycle is more than a little weird. After considering the job and the busty HR manager, he agrees to continue the interview.





From what I can tell, this is a mosiac essay.  Do I remeber what that is?  Nope.  Did I write it for a master's level English class about 8 years ago?  Yep.  is it any good?  Hell if I know.  I can't even remember what a mosiac is...  



Scott toilet paper. It’s Softness done right according to the package. Twenty four rolls equals 48 regular rolls. Those 24 rolls are divided into packages of four and wrapped it plastic. Then they are wrapped in another layer of plastic. It’s a waste. There’s no reason for those rolls of toilet paper to be double wrapped. The toilet paper rolls have been over packaged. They are just another reason why we have a 1000 mile island of plastic 1000 miles off the coast of California.

One broken down dark brown dress shoe rests next to a pile of black cloth. I’m sure the pile of cloth is a shirt. I probably wore it to the gym earlier. The other broken down shoe resides on the other side of the shirt. They were wonderful shoes when I first bought them. New. Shiny. Comfortable. They’re still comfortable, but the heel is worn down. There’s a crack above the toes. They no longer fall into the “gently used” category. They are well used and in need of replacement. I’d like to replace them, but they don’t make those shoes anymore. So I keep them and wear them.

On top of the overstuffed dark red couch pillow sits two pairs of black underwear, a pair of green underwear. I think they used to be grey. They got in a battle with a bottle of bleach and lost. There’s another black t-shirt, a white one, a black sock, a black hand towel, and a grey t-shirt. They are remnants of a washed and dried load of laundry that I have yet to fold and put away. The jeans lay separate from the pile yet still near the pillow are part of the same load – size 13. I need to go to the gym more often.

A 24oz Diet Dr. Pepper sits on a cheap Wal-Mart tray table. It’s an annoying pale shade of wood. I would have gotten black, but thy don’t sell black tray tables. Dr. Pepper was once a cure for stomach ailments. A small four by three hardcover blank notebook sits on the other side of the table. Under that, Lee Child’s “The Hard Way”. It’s an annoying book. I’ve tried to read it twice. I got farther the second time, but it’s still a terrible book. The first 10 pages are a circular argument between Reacher and an unknown man. I hate circular arguments and false bravado. It’s not believable. The author failed to pull me into Jack Reacher’s world.

Next to that stack of books resides Cover Girls’ Aqua CG Smoother ivory foundation. It’s makeup I only wear for job interviews. I hate having slime covering every inch of my face. It smudges, rubs off on Kleenex, but it doesn’t completely come off. Residue is still left behind even after a good soap and water face scrubbing. It requires special wipes to remove completely.

Red lace hangs down from four pillars. The design is intricate with roses and leaves, scalloped edges that hang to the floor. It’s 80 inches by 57 inches. I know because I measured it three times to ensure the size of the custom canopy. The Greek style columns are bear huggable. The headboard is solid wood. It weighs 80 pounds. The mattress is extra thick. It has a pillow top. The entire bed is a Queen. It could easily fit three of me. A black and red comforter is piled is the center. Beyond it, two pillows covered with black pillowcases. The décor and style could be used for ritualistic or satanic sex in a movie or for a scene in one of my own stories, but for now, I think I’ll just sleep in my semi-gothic bedroom buried under a pile of comforters and pillows.


This is another tidbit that was probably written between 1995 and 1998.  While I would consider this to be pure and utter crap compared to what I write today, sometimes we need to understand the developmental process to writing.  The overall theme is something I still use today.  Make it dark.  Make it disturbing. This qualifies as both.



Understanding the Darkness






Can you understand anything, my dark companion

Do you love?

Do you hate?

Do you feel for me what I feel for you?

Can you cry?

My sadness blinks in the darkness

What I have, my friends, isn’t what I thought

And if you walk with me, here, in the darkness

Do not forget the light.

Because I thought I was lonely when god had forsaken me,

But I found myself screaming blood into the night when the devil had forsaken me.

Now I know that true loneliness is the understanding that I can never go back.





I understand the Darkness

Do you understand me.



I think I wrote this in 1995 or 1996.  I am fairly certain this was an English assignment in high school.  I'm also pretty sure I got an "A".  Imagine turning this in today.  You or your kid would probably be shoved off to the nearest psychologist.


This is unedited and uncorrected from the text that was in the notebook, which means it's not perfect (in fact upon skimming this, it has developmental errors out the ass), and not the stories I churn out today, but you as you can see, I was fucked in the head even back then.


Just wanna be your fucked-up author!


"Hey, have you read that fucked up author?"

"What one with those drug running pilots and crazy vampire shit?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Man, her shit is fucked up..."


House of Malay


"Yeah. Sure. You ask me if I was there that day. I was there that day. I saw the whole goddamned thing. No. I didn't try to stop it and yes, I could have. Why didn’t I? That’s like asking me why I didn’t try to stop the car from crossing the railroad tracks. The train was coming. Did they die? Some of them. Some died right then. Some were loaded into a coach. Others. Well, others just sorta turned and walked away.” He inhaled. “Was who there? Yes. He was there. Performing… Look, I was there just like everyone else. Watching the performance. Well, until I saw her.” He looked at the carved tabletop. “No, I didn’t know her before then. Of course, I’d heard the rumors. Everyone’s heard the rumors.” He paused. “She’s evil. Don’t look at me like that. Until you’ve stared into the eyes of Satan himself.” Another pause. He looked up. “They’re true. Rumors can be the undoing of man and myth alike, but this is no myth. This is real. How do I know? Well, you didn’t see her did you?” He shook his head. “A succubus in disguise. That’s what she is. You expect me to tell you her name? Are you daft? You don’t speak her name. Ever. She’s from that Family. You know the one. Large Victorian on the hill overlooking the square. Overgrown yard. Too many trees. Except in this case, her yard is immaculate, siding freshly painted, windows heavily curtained. ” A pause. “Excuse me? She speaks to me nightly. Come Sebastian. Come to me. I do not listen. I curse and tell her to stay away. Get out of my head. It does no good. Eventually, she will come for me.”


Taylor Lexas closed the Marques Book of Enchantments and stood. Everything was going to plan. She stretched and walked over to the window. In the square Merchants peddled and old women haggled prices. Men didn’t have to haggle. They always got the best price.

She turned her attention to the large crystal ball in the center of the room. It was glowing. “Shit.” Opening her mind, she could sense the trouble. She cursed again. It might have happened yesterday, maybe the day before. Never today. She needed a crystal that warned her immediately. Maybe they didn’t exist. She’d look harder.

Lexas gasped as she peered inside the glowing depths of the Crystal. “Sebastian is here.” She said to no one.

Glance Peterson walked before the massive crowd. They had gathered for the Ceremony of the Light Carnival. Hundreds of men, women and children stood before the town square. Glance was the main attraction, the town magician.

He stood before them, arms open. “Welcome! Welcome everyone. Whiteness my spectacles, spells, and incantations.” The crowd cheered and whistled.” They loved him. “And now for my first spectacle. I will make that bench disappear.” He motioned. Glance waved his hands in an extravagant fashion and spoke one word so inaudibly that the crowd never heard.

"Seuqram." The bench disappeared leaving empty air in its place. The crowd cheered.

“Cigam.” The bench reappeared. "And now for my second feat I shall appear a hawk from nothing.” They clapped. “Rolyat.” The hawk appeared. Ohhhs and ahhhhs.

Glance proceeded with his magic for several more hours while Taylor stood in the background; watching, waiting. "And now for my grand finale.”

Everything was going perfectly. In moments the townspeople~. would be hers, or at least most of them would be- "House Of Old! I call you! "

While the first half had been inaudible the last was a scream. A brilliant red black light filled the sky – the Devil’s light. It was time.

Lexas appeared on stage just as the light faded, and gazed out among the crowd. Delicious. Young, Old. Men. Women. She couldn’t wait. Then, she saw him. “Sebastian.” She breathed.

Glance followed her gaze and frowned. “He can’t touch you.”

The crowd was still mesmerized.

“He could ruin me.” Taylor said.

“Not tonight.” Glance said.

“He sees me. Immune to the light.”

“We’ll deal with him later. You need to feed.”


"Oh God. I have to stop her. The Forbidden Books speak of her. The Reads tell of a second coming. Of the one who survived the Wars. She must be stopped.” He stood. “It is my duty.”


Lexas swooped in on the crowd. She had to feed. Throw caution to the wind. She couldn’t take on Sebastian unfed. No one moved. Taylor extended her fangs and sank them into the nearest male – thirty-five years old, robust, tall. She moaned and swallowed.

Glance began herding the rest of the townspeople into a large wooden coach. Lexas would use them later. One hundred people in all fit into the coach. The rest would live to see another day and remember nothing. Glance would make sure of it.

Blackguards removed the bodies as they dropped. There were ten in all. They’re bodies would be thrown into the incinerator at the back of the house.

Once home, Taylor paced fervently. “He’s the one.”

“He is not the one.” Glance said. “You know we destroyed him over a century ago.”

“It’s him. I know it’s him.”

“A reincarnation?”

“Perhaps or perhaps we didn’t finish him as thoroughly as we had thought.”

“Well, I was going to burn him, but you saw the troops just as I did.”

“Maybe they picked him up and healed him.” Lexas said.

Glance frowned. “It’s possible, my dear.”

She sighed. “We have to kill him. He can’t interfere. We’re almost done.”

“I know.”

“I want my Sire back.”

“I know.” Glance was a broken record when it came to this topic. Lexas wanted her Sire back. It required a blood-ritual. They almost had enough virgin blood to attempt it. “Do you have the book?”

“Yes. I was reading it earlier.”

“Have you checked on the body?” Glance asked.

“In cold storage in the basement, but we have to do it soon.” Lexas said. Just months before she was confident she could overcome anything, but her power had been much stronger. Her control over the populous had been eternal. NOW bands of outlaws roamed the countryside. And some people, she was sure, sense her presents above things.

She was running out of time. Taylor had to get rid of this man while she could.

She had to move quickly.


"Ahhhh!!! I know she's coming for me! I see her in my dreams. For the past three nights her nightmares have plagued me! Her image She will not let leave me! Devil! Oh I'm going mad! She wants my life to save her own. I can feel her presence over me. Oh God, how? How can I stop her? I am no magician such as Glance. I am only mortal. Glance! Glance can help Me. Will he help me? Can he help me? He must. He, of all people, must know to an extent what her power holds. I pray he helps. She is so evil, so powerful. And I am pot.


Lexas stood outside in the town square. It was the first time she had done so in many decades. She didn't need to often. To go outside meant disguising ones self so as not to scare all the townsmen to eternity. To make ones self appear

to be a wealthy commoner. Not hard. Just annoying, and not always perfect. Sometimes a feature still appeared, and it was not usually a more subtle one.

Suddenly a large man ran into her. "Oh, sorry, ma'am. Should've been watching where I was going."

Stupid! Maybe I should teach you to watch your way! Get away from me! The man backed away from her quickly and headed into the opposite direction. Bastard peasants. If they only knew what was about to happen in the very near future.

Lexas began to walk among the people. She knew the man would be here tonight.

She had told him herself to be here this night. It was tonight or never. Her power was lacking and tonight was the last night she would be able to fend him off. She

was confident he would show. The man told her he would. Dreams, you see, can sometimes hold keys to the day. O~ at least they can when Lexas appeared in them.

"Yes. Can I help you?" Glance Peterson asked opening his door.

"Yes, or at least I hope you can. Can I come in? What I have to say isn't really for a front door conversation."

"Yeah. Sure. If you feel you need to." Glance closed the door. "How can I ease your troubled mind?"

"I am the only survivor of your final trick from the Ceremonies of Light Carnival.

And the woman behind it is going to kill me if I can't stop her."

Glance's face grew grave. "I see."

"I watched her while she watched you. I know you did it, but I know it was done under her command. And now I need your help to stop her."

"I'm sorry, friend, but I cannot help you. There is nothing in my power that can help you now."

"But you. You killed all those people. Why won't you help me defeat her? If for nothing else but to clean your soul!"

Two hours after sunset Taylor noticed a determined young man walking straight for her. Most of the town had already gone home for the night. Not 20 people were left in the square. This was the man. He had finally come to confront her and stop her evil from spreading, but what he didn't know was that it was too late.

She didn't think he could handle another nightmare and she was going to give him

"Hello, Man." Lexas greeted him pleasantly.

"Hello, Devil. I have come to kill you." Several people had turned to look. "Well see." The man drew his sword.

Taylor Lexas laughed. "Put your sword away! It will do you no good."

with that she shook off her brown peasant’s hood and it turned black. All her masks she laid aside, and what the man saw was a very evil, very dark powerful Undead. Varnpyre. Come and stop me, Man!"

"I'll make sure you end up in Hell!" The man yelled lunging for her.

"Their is no Hell." Taylor grabbed the hand with the sword in it and crushed it. "But their is death." The man felt as her dark fangs punctured his neck and drained his life. Moments later he was dead. And Taylor felt better. Her waning

power felt stronger.

Unfortunately, Glance never came to the rescue, and the House Of Old rose once again. This time for eternity. Taylor Lexas was its leader, and the world changed. People became fearful creatures. Afraid of there new god and what she could do. People built alters and temples to sacrifice to their god. And on those tables slaves, animals, people, and prisioners were all sacrificed on a daily basis. You either appeased the House or the House came after you and your death was not as pleasant as a sacrifice.




Over the hills and through the woods to grandmother’s house... Okay, not really, Officer Locke thought. He shined his flashlight on a pair of dingy wader boots. The man had been dead less than 24 hours. No blood. No weapon. No trauma. Just dead.

What do you think?” Officer Smith asked as the CSI’s roped off the area.

It’s fucked.” Locke said.

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