The Blood of Faith and Faries (Finished)

Authors note:

Things aren’t always the way you perceive them. Perception is warped by bias and desires. Perception is reality. I wrote this first off to scare and thrill any reader. Secondly, to show how warped people and their minds can get. Especially, when emotions are involved. Lastly I’m relatively talented at writing “dark” stories. I love to use words that make you, as the reader, think, cringe and imagine the scene. I hope you crave the story and plot. Feel free to see if you can guess the plot as you read. I placed have plenty of foreshadowing and thought provoking words and phrases. Feel free to reread whatever you want, and whatever you think may have a hidden meaning. Then you can decide which is worse the blood of Faith or the blood of Fairies.

DISCLAMER
Not for the weak of heart, stomach or mind. All names and events are purely fictional. Not responsible for loss of sanity, meals, emotional stability, innocence or increased paranoia.


The Blood of Faith and Fairies:

The phone rang once, twice, three times. Faye ripped the cord out of the wall and mumbled, “Stop calling Brye.”
She shuffled to the corner where her bed sat and slumped against the wall and stared into the dusty mirror mounted on the wall across the room from her. She was wearing baggy black bondage pants that fit her before her self made exile. The plain black tank top was faded some and equally baggy. Her hair was a wreak now, she recently dyed it black just to piss people off. It was cropped so it was long in the front to hide her eyes and gradually got short as it went back. It ended at a mere ¼ inch.


She picked up a scrap of black paper and a silver marker from the window sill and wrote “ Matt Sake” on the scrap, though it looked more like “Mett Suke”.
The call was one of her two friends who refused to abandon her to her own devices. Her name was Brye Loss. She was a cheery soul who could get any guy she wanted. Long light brown hair framed her face, giving her the appearance of a goddess. In short she was whom all the guys adored. Perfectly built and flawed she was loved by people who didn’t even know her name.
Faye looked at her scrawny arms and skeletal ribs. “I look dead,” she whispered to the shadowed silence around her.


How long had it been since she ate, She couldn’t remember. She wasn’t hungry anyway, only sick.

She thought about Matt again. He looked so happy when she last saw him. Because of Faith Conner, his girlfriend. She was always thrilled to see him, as if minutes were years. She had layered blonde hair and fresh style. He had told Faye that “ he was the luckiest guy on earth,” when Faith said yes to his offer of a date. She hadn’t hesitated for a second to claim him.


Who didn’t like him, she wondered. He had longish brown hair and large misty gray eyes. Not to mention a killer sense of humor. After all he had made her laugh way too loud at that horror movie they saw, what was it called The Grudge?
No wonder Faith said yes. Faye and Matt were friends and nothing more.
That was the problem to her anyways, he seemed okay with it though, Well not anymore, she thought, the only friends I have won’t leave me alone. Besides she hadn’t seen or talked to him since that day one month ago. It might as well of been years ago for that’s what it seemed to be.

She use to have more friends, Witty Rove, Morgaine Glory, and Jake Later : they hadn’t bothered with her since she dropped out a month ago. Her only friends now were Brye Loss and Nate Summers. Between the two of them she was relatively monitored. Had she regressed back to a three year old? What was the worse she could do? She’d already done plenty of damage. She rarely left the house, unplugged the phone now, and barely ate. She was the living dead. And with that thought she got an idea.


If I can’t die and end my pain, Faith will and take my pain with her. She began plotting how Faith would meet her demise efficiently without getting tagged as a murder. Does the perfect murder exist?

I’ll just have to find out. Over the next few hours she devised her scheme. She knew Faith had worked a block from where she lived. And that she walked home alone. If faith was alone it could work. But how could she commit this act? She only had a rough plan and she was still human right? How could she murder and not feel remorse and guilt. She deserves it for stealing him from me, she deserves it all.


Next was the weapon of choice. Her knowledge told her knives could be tracked, fingerprints traced, and mopped up blood never truly went away. So the question became what could kill efficiently without a blade, blood, or fingerprints? She considered her options carefully. Ice, pills, powdered glass, hair, water? What would work best? Ice would be too heavy to strike with though it would melt away. Pills could be traced and would have to be voluntarily swallowed, thus an impossibility. That left water, hair and powdered glass. Water would mean drowning. Would she be able to over power Faith? Let alone get her to a lake and weight her down so she could disappear into the depths forever? Powdered glass would work well assuming she could get some without risking questions or tracing. Could she get some off the record? Could she powder it herself? Hair would work if she swallowed it without being forced, again impossible. But it would take too long and could be intercepted. That left powdered glass as her best option.


That night she went to the garbage behind the local tavern eight miles away from her home. She parked her car a block away as to not draw undue attention. Walking to the pile of bottles she grabbed six clear glass beer bottles, being careful to wear gloves the entire time. She packed each bottle in a separate plastic bag and each bag in two more. She placed the first bag on the road by the drain and begin to smash them into powdered fragments. She smashed it as finely as possible and she took the bags of powdered glass to her house and shook them till the finest powder was sifted up. Then she scooped the finest powder into a glass jar.

She then proceeded to mix some home made chocolate cake mix, the kind faith couldn’t resist, with two teaspoons of the glass from the jar. It baked perfectly. Next she typed up a note, “for the one I love, Faith.” While wearing gloves she pinned the note to the cake. She then drove back to the tavern and dumped all the unused glass where she found the bottles. Then as Faith was still at work she placed the cake, Faith’s favorite kind chocolate, on her doorstep and drove off. Careful to use gloves even then.

When Faith came home that night she was ravenous. Seeing the cake at her door she grasped it eagerly and went to the kitchen to get a fork, believing Matt had left it for her. He knew she loved chocolate cake. She began to feel ill after consuming at least half of the cake. She called Matt’s home phone and left a message because he was at work still. The message said “Thanks Baby, it was great. I ate too much though, I feel sick. I’ll be in bed when you get home, so thank you. Death by chocolate eh? Love you lots, see you in the morning. Good night.”
In truth, she hadn’t realized the truth of her words. Faith slept uneasily tell about 2:50am, when she woke with a jolt. Sprinting towards the bathroom, she doubled over and vomited in the hall. She saw blood and remnants of her cake mixed into a grotesque blackish-brown. Seeing this she puked again, more blood this time. She tried to reach the phone in the kitchen, but only crawled a few short paces before she was too weakened by immense pain and the sight of her own blood. She collapsed on to her side and vomited several more times. She couldn’t move she couldn’t think all she could do is lay there meekly and cry. She watched her tears mix with her blood and knew it was too late, with one finial retch at the devils hour, she departed from the living.

At the devils hour Faye woke to an icy draft on her face. She looked at the window it was still closed. “Where is that draft coming from? The windows locked…” she mumbled halfway asleep. She strained to hear a sound, which would alert her of another presence, but only deathly silence greeted her. She drifted off again, only to be awoken at 11:00am by Nate knocking on her door. She watched as he left a note on her door and drove off.


He had looked disheveled and distraught. His note read:
“ Faye,
Brye and I are going in for questioning. Matt found Faith dead this morning at her house. Call if you need us. More news later.
P.S. plug in your phone!
– Nate-“


She smiled it had worked beautifully. She decided Matt needed her immediately; so she brushed her hair, changed her clothes, grabbed a heat saving cup of Irish cream coffee, left Nate a note and charged her cell phone while on the way over to Matt’s. Upon arriving at his house, she noted his car was there. She knocked on the door, three sharp raps then she waited. Silence. Then three more raps, louder this time. She heard muffled steps and the door opened a few inches. In the beam of light, Matt’s face looked as if death had come to him instead of Faith.
“I brought you some coffee, your favorite kind. I just heard I’m so sorry. You must feel so alone. I want you to know I’m here any time day or night okay? You still have my cell number right?” she said sympathetically.


He smiled briefly at the mention of coffee and said “thanks for coming I know you don’t go out much.”


He sighed as he opened the door wide enough for her to slip past him into the foyer.

He shut the door with a soft click as she asked “will you want anything else?”

“no coffees enough”, he said.

He held her in a light embrace. She patted his back and spoke softly “ drink your coffee and relax. I’ll clean up.”


She pulled away slowly from his arms and walked into the adjoining kitchen and begun collecting stray dishes from the room. Matt had settled on a couch with his coffee, pillow and a blanket and looking placid as he watched her clean up the NRA issues and motocross magazines he got last week.

He looked perfect to her sitting with his coffee and blanket watching her with a grateful look in his eye and a weary smile. Over the next few hours she had cleaned his room, the dining room, the hall, the living room, kitchen and was finishing up the bathroom when Matt walked in.

“ You don’t have to do this you know. You must be tired. I am and all I did was watch.”


“ It’s fine I wanted to,” she replied.

“Will you stay here with me tonight? I won’t want to cook in the morning. I’ll sleep on the couch so-“

She cut him off,“ I’ll stay if I get the couch.”

“Deal”, he said, “Now get out, I need to pee!”

She smiled and left to plan breakfast.
It had worked.

The next morning Faye was making homemade waffles, breakfast sausage, orange juice, cinnamon sugar toast, Irish cream coffee and she had bought the maple syrup Matt loved. At nine, she walked quietly into his room to wake him for breakfast. She hesitated by his bed reluctant to wake him. He looked so peaceful with his hair in his eyes and his arms wrapped around the spare pillow, covered halfway with a plain white sheet. His face was towards her and she sat at the edge of his bed and spoke softly “Matt breakfasts ready. I hope you like it.”

He stirred slightly and his eyes fluttered open showing the intensity of the gray of his irises. She noted, happily, that he wasn’t acting modest or shy despite the fact he had fallen asleep in only a pair of black boxers.

He smiled brightly and said “’Morning Faye of the fairies. What’d you make?”
“Get ready and come find out.” she teased, and glided out the door to finish setting the table.

He went and followed her to the brightly lit kitchen still only in his boxers. Faye hadn’t brought a change of clothes so she borrowed one of his old tank tops. It came to mid thigh on her. Matt sat down across from her gazing at the feast she had prepared. They both dug into waffles submerged in syrup.

“This is to die for”, he smiled, “I may have to keep you somewhere safe.”

This is perfect she thought thrilled that her plan had worked so well. When they had finished she was in the best mood she had been since her life became complex everyday, once she hit junior high school.

Matt, she had noticed, hadn’t taken his eyes off of her since his shower after breakfast. She almost had a heart attack when she stepped out of bathroom to see him in front of the door blocking her exit. She tried to laugh it off, despite a growing feeling of relentless dread. Suddenly with surprising speed and force he pinned her to the bathroom wall. She couldn’t move at first, she didn’t want to, but soon she grew panicked. This wasn’t normal, especially for Matt. The heat from his body stifled her, as her chest grew tight. He starred at her.

Three minutes went by, then thirteen, at twenty she couldn’t breathe. Slowly she began to hyperventilate. She began an attempt to speak but he cut her off.

“Why’d you agree to stay? Why’d you come over? You never liked her did you? That’s why you left school when we hooked up. right? Why did you do that to her? Why?”

She stared wide-eyed into his cold, gray eyes. Did he know she killed Faith? Did he know how? Did he know she had become obsessed with his love without ever having it? Too many thoughts raced through her head. As it pounded, sharp pains split towards the back. She felt a quick pain at the base of her neck and then swift darkness. Sweet nothingness.


How long had she been out? Had she fainted or did he knock her out? Why was the velvet darkness still engulfing her? For what seemed like an eternity she did not dare to move. Cautiously she lifted her hands above her. Nothing. Then a bit more, nothing. Another inch and her fingertips hit soft, silky padding. She guessed the distance was roughly six inches in front of her face.


What the… She tested the right side, the same padding, four inches. Now the left, five inches and padding. She suddenly realized the padding was beneath her back and a silk pillow under her head.

Oh my God! I’m in a coffin she realized. A silent scream escaped her lips as she tried to pry open the lid; pawing and clawing at the padding. Another scream unfurled shaky, hoarse and broken. Then another louder and panic stricken. The shrill note rang and reverberated inside her silk lined box. Then a sharp click of a lock and a waif light illumined the dark padding. As she strained to see through the sudden light Matt’s face came into focus. He seemed to have a calm disposition with wildly glinting eyes. She tried desperately to flatten herself to the bottom of the coffin, To get away from those horrible, unnatural shining eyes.

“Did she scream? Did she know what was in the cake?”

“ I don’t know what’s happened to you Matt but your scaring me.” She said with a trembling voice.

“How’d you do it Faye? Did you loose to Faith? Did you loose me in Faith? You’re clever… “Death by Chocolate”. Who could resist?”

He smiled handing her a wine glass which looked to be filled with red wine.
However, it looked wrong, thickened as if he added cornstarch. It smelled oddly musty and metallic. She looked at it wide eyed and questioning. She took a cautious sip and promptly gagged. No way that was wine, it was blood.

“Drink it. You’ll need your strength.” He stated it as if it was a common suggestion, “besides you’ll want it soon enough. After all were the same blood type.”


She was horrified. He urged her to drink she sat straight upright and threw the glass at him; as blood spilled on his shirt and hands he began gleefuly laughing. If she could call that high pitched, psychotic laugh mirthful. What is he? A vampire? He started to close the lid to her coffin; screaming she pushed back with less resistance then she expected.

Crawling out of the coffin, she stood shakily and spoke “You’re crazy!”

He grinned evilly and slowly licked the blood streaks off of his hands. She charged at him, he calmly stepped aside. She sprinted for the door desperately and tugged at the bolt.


Failing to wrench it open, she whirled to face him shrieking, “Let me go your crazy! I’m not the murder; and Faith didn’t deserve you!”

Looking around the room she realized she’d never seen it before. There were no windows only a few bare light bulbs and various candles lit along the walls. Sending a shadowy light around the dank room. The floor was packed dirt and everything was dusty and bare. A pair of rusty shackles hung on the wall next to the door.
He strolled up to her with the blood on his shirt glistening in the dim light. She backed up against the door as he advanced, stopping a few inches before her.

Laughing again he asked, “Why so scared? You don’t like coffins? Or the blood you deserve? You don’t like me? You use to only hours before you made me breakfast. It was so sweet of you. We could be together if you’d accept my blood , your privileged Faye. You’re the first. Even Faith never got this offer. ” He smiled lustfully.

“You’re sick, a real disturbed psycho. A true monster! “

“No, I’m a god. Want to be my goddess?”

“NO” she shrieked venomously at him.

He smiled lustfully, then swiftly he revealed a knife from his back pocket and advanced. Her eyes widened as he became more alluring than ever before.

“Last chance Faye. Do you wish to join me, eternally or do you with to join Faith eternally?”

“Your psychotic Matt, why are you doing this to me? All I wanted was you. This isn’t like you, your not being Matt you’re being a Demon!”

“ No then? Wrong answer Faye.”

He stabbed her once in the diaphragm. A swift, fluid motion ending in an oddly dim sharp pain. She couldn’t breathe, She felt a warm rush of liquid pour from her wound. She saw it drip and pool before her feet.

“Don’t worry”, he said, “ I picked out a nice spot for your corpse. Right by the pond you grew up by. Far, far away from here. Far, far from Faith. Have fun in Hell Faye.”

That insane laugh filled her soul with dread as she departed into the depths of death’s doors and onto Hell. His blood streaked face smiling lustfully was the last image she saw. And her once love filled heart shattered as she collapsed in front of the door. The thick dark wine pooling around her in the flickering lights.





The body of Faye Jaden was never found. Matt Sake went on with his life without telling a soul, or at least not one who lived to tell the tale. Still searching for his goddesses and only killing those, who like Faye, refused his offer. Some men just can’t handle rejection. He was never caught for any of his murders I guess some people can get away with anything, including murder. Matt is still out there somewhere, searching for his goddesses. Be careful of charmers they usually end up being snakes.

Fin


(I fixed the end so yay all done still a little weak but it was all i could do since i've been way to busy to write much.. Please tell me what you think so far and and sugestion you have are welcomed. Please bear in mind this work is ment for teenagers for light and intresting reading. And is a work in progress. Thank you for Reading all this. --Erosmark--)