Subj: Sisters Pt.3 (Mature)
Date: 6/11/00 4:49:10 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Marcos1
"Now, let's go over this one more time," Sheriff Patterson said. Sweat was forming on his bald pate. He was clearly feeling very uneasy.
"Those two men attacked my sister," Alexandra said, "and then some of kind of animal attacked them. It was what I would call cosmic justice. Those creeps deserved to die, and the Goddess allowed for it to happen. It's as simple as that--"
"Nothing about this case is simple at all," the heavy set, bald Sheriff said. "For one thing, why was there blood all over you...Miss?" He reached for another cup of water from the bottle dispenser. His throat felt very dry.
"My sister already answered that," Vicki said, sobbing. "She leaned over those men's bodies, trying to help them. But it was too late."
"But why would she show such concern for them?" Sheriff Patterson asked. "It is clear that she is glad they are dead."
In the corner of the Sheriff's office, Hobby Hibbits, sat in a chair. He was a man in his fifties, skinny, unshaven, and rank of smell and demeanor. Hobby worked as a truck lumper at the Collinsport Docks. He helped unload ships, and trailers that arrived at the busy fishing port. He rented a flop house room, just above the Blue Whale. His hands were shaking. He was broke and needed a drink badly.
Reverend Trask pulled up in front of the public building. He was feeling very excited. This was the break, that he had been waiting for. Finally, he would get revenge on the Collins family. He parked his Dodge station wagon, in front of the Sheriff's office. He reached into a large brown bag in the back seat. He was coming prepared.
George Patterson glanced out the front window. He saw Trask getting out of his car. The Sheriff wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers. He hated this. Vicki had always seemed so nice. He knew that this would hurt her. "Hobby, could you come over here."
"Yes, Sheriff, Hobby will come over." He zipped up his zipper. It just kept coming down, but he couldn't afford another pair.
"Hobby," Sheriff Patterson said, "could you please tell these two young women, what you saw earlier tonight?"
"Yes," Hobby said, standing a distance from Alexandra. He gave her a very scared look, squinting his eyes. He shook back and forth, like a person that needed to go to the bathroom. "This woman," he pointed at Alexandra, "well, she isn't human, that is all. She killed those two men, with her long sharp teeth. Yes, sure did. Killed them dead, sure enough. Hobby don't lie. You know he don't."
"That is such nonsense," Alexandra said, standing up. She walked towards the door. "I can't believe that you'd listen to this man. He is a bum, that needs a drink." She put her hand on the door knob. But then it suddenly came open, and she was face to face, with a man, dressed in a suit and tie. He was handsome, but there was a look in his eyes, a crazy wild look. Alexandra feared him from the first moment. She had seen that look before.
"No, my dear," Reverend Trask said, holding up a Christian cross. "You are going nowhere."
Alexandra pulled back into the office. She looked at the cross with fear, and made hissing noises like an animal. "Get away from me."
Trask nodded his head and smiled. "Now, do you believe me, George? This woman is a vampire. A foul creature born from demon seed, spawned by the fires of hell, and all the evil below."
"I'd never believed it," Sheriff Patterson said, "if I didn't see it, with my own eyes." He looked over at Alexandra, who was cowering in the corner. And then he turned to Vicki. "Miss Winters, I'm sorry, but I am putting your sister in jail...until we can figure out what to do with her."
The jail cell door clanged shut. Reverend Trask put crosses all around the bars, and leaves of garlic. Alexandra paced back and forth inside the cell. She had never been so angry. She would get out somehow. Somehow, she would, and those fools would soon be dead.
Vicki walked out of the Sheriff's Office. She felt terrible. She remembered all the lonely nights at the foundling home. Sometimes, she had cried herself to sleep. It was such an awful feeling being alone, not having anyone to love her. Now, her sister had found her, someone who did care. But those people were going to kill her sister. Why did this have to happen? Was she never to be loved? Tears ran down her face. She bit her lower lip with resolve. She would find a way to save Alexandra. She must, or, die trying.
Tammy-PO was a dockie, a dock prostitute. She had worked down at the Collinsport docks for several years. She was a short woman with blond hair, small breasts, but with a very wide and full butt. Tammy had moved from Murphy North Carolina, by way of New York City. She had wanted to be an actress, hoping to get a part on one of the soaps. But no one wanted her for anything but the casting couch. She had been so disgusted with the Big Apple, that she went out on the highway, thumb out, wide ass in a pair of very tight jeans. She got a ride, and ended up here, in Collinsport Maine.
Tammy-PO walked down the boardwalk. It had been a slow night, with no action at all. She noticed a woman leaning over the docks. The woman was crying. "What the matter with you?" she asked. "Lose your boyfriend?"
Vicki looked up. "No, I'm all right. It's just my sister...she is in jail."
"That is a tough break, all right," Tammy-PO said. "But don't you worry none. That George Patterson...he's a good man. He'll be fair to her."
"I don't think so," Vicki said, sobbing. She took a deep breath. "They are accusing her of murder."
"Well, in the morning, just go and find yourself a good lawyer. If she didn't do it, one of those smart Boston lawyers...be able to get her out."
"She did do it," Vicki said softly, "but she was just protecting me from getting raped. I guess, you are right, in the morning...." Vicki paused, a thought occurred to her, one that caused a sinking sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"Hey, what's the matter with you?" Tammy-PO asked. "Your face turned all white, all of a sudden."
"In the morning, my sister will be dead," Vicki said. "Her jail cell faces the rising sun. The sunlight will kill her. She has a rare skin condition."
"Sounds like you need help. A special kind of help," Tammy-PO said. "There is this man...a wonderful man who lives at a house by the sea He has power...true change the world with a click of his fingers... kind of power. The ladies of the docks call him, the 'Magic Man.' Go to him. He will help you."
"Can he really help me?" Vicki asked.
"Yes," Tammy-Po replied. "And all you have to give up is your soul."
To be continued--