literature

Where are you

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Literature Text

Ariane has been gone for far too long, it must have been a week by now. Billy would usually appreciate the time away from Ariane, but it was her birthday and she and there has been no word on her whereabouts since before the evening they were going to a bar to celebrate.
She came into his life mysteriously enough, Billy waking up in his bed, wearing his rumpled clothes, and no memory of the night before. While he had no hangover his thoughts immediately were on a glass of water to clear his head. He sat up, got out of bed, and stepped to the window. He opened the drapes partly to let the sunlight in. It was with that when he heard the shower turn off. Moments later wrapped in a towel is Ariane, holding a glass of water for him.

Ariane would come in and out of Billy's life, always to take his bed, his apartment, and his life without reason or his say. He is accustomed to this, and in time welcomes this distraction in his life named her.

There is nothing much he knows of her past before that morning she walked out of his shower, she won't even mention the night before, the one Billy can't remember. She does odd jobs for people. whatever needs happening they come to her. Billy? He keeps his eyes open, picking up this and that. He collects the memories that are discarded on the streets. He saves them, sorts through them and puts them into words. His nights are at a computer, searching for clues for something that even the inquisitive Ariane can't understand or get out from him.
Right now Billy asks questions to his computer, even she is clueless as to where Ariane is. He messages people he knows, no clear answers. He even goes to the strip club downstairs and asks around. No one knows. Tired, the sun rise arriving soon he goes back up to his apartment. Ariane is slumped over the couch, tattered, torn, passed out, and stained in dried blood.

He tries to wake her, but aside from her breaths, she doesn't move. He looks her over, the blood is not hers. He grabs a shirt laying nearby and wets it with water from the kitchen sink. He tries to wipe the dried blood, but Ariane's skin begins to turn red from the touch of the wet shirt, she moans in pain. Billy tosses the now steaming shirt aside and opens Ariane's mouth, looking at her teeth.

Billy closes his eyes and looks away with a sigh. Ariane begins to mutter and wakes momentarily. Billy hold he in a hug and tries to tell her she'll be okay. She passes out again and with that Billy reaches under the couch and pulls out something he puts into his pocket. He can see the sun trying to peak through the drapes. Billy picks Ariane up in his arms and moves her to the bed room, placing her on the bed.

He opens the closet door and walks in pushing passed the hanging clothes towards the back. He kneels down and with a heavy key he pulls from his pocket. In a low voice, Billy mutters an incantation in a long dead language. A keyhole appears, glowing a soft blue. He puts the key in and turns, opening a door and steps going down. Billy leaves long enough to grab Ariane and take her into this secret room.

Billy places Ariane gently on the floor and turns on a nearby computer. The computer greets him and notices that Ariane is in the room.
The computer asks if it's a good idea to have her sleeping on the floor of this room. He ignores the question and gives a command to the computer in the same dead language he used on the keyhole.

"It has begun." The computer says. A statement and not a question.

Billy shakes his head with a low chuckle, "The demons are back and the old man saw to it that Ariane is our savior." 

Looking back at Ariane with sad eyes, Billy says, "She's a vampire now.”
This tale begins with someone's birthday. She vanished from the internet, which is the only place I know her. After a few days I began playing with a story of what happened while she was away. Before I began jotting notes on the backs of receipts and losing other ideas in my head, I sent her a message and this is what came of that:

"Have you come back from the rabbit hole yet? Or did your birthday turn into something more sinister? Like that dark, horrifying, beautiful princess who haunts my dreams?"

"Almost there, just a few more feet to climb. I have the carcass of the White Rabbit slung over one shoulder and the heads of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb hanging from my opposite hip. I am covered in blood and dirt and I have seen things that would terrify you, but I am almost home."

Most of my ideas are tossed in my waste paper basket along with some apple peels I toss in when I'm up late pondering story ideas. I sift through a folder of old stories I began and soon left unfinished, finding one particular tale. With a pair of scissors I cut it up and with a few hastily written idea that are coming up, there on my desk are the puzzle pieces of a new tale. These pieces are pasted to a sheet of paper and what came to appeared before me is the beginnings of a tale of supernatural intrigue and terror of what became of someone I know on the days following her birthday.
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