The Well Of Thirst and Others

By T.W. Blackstone

In his quest for power, Abraham inadvertently transforms himself from civil war doctor into a vampire, and in our modern era. He wants more. Viktor quickly realizes his easy days ruling the night are over, especially when he is tasked with destroying this malevolent creature.

In What Love Makes of Us, Alice does not realize she is dead. She misses her husband and, through trial and error, finds the power to fight her way back to him. But being an unseen ghost is not good enough. She needs flesh.

In total, five shorts and one novella of horror, all to keep your eyes open in the dark.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.W. Blackstone
• Release date: Oct 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9798985054101

T.W. Blackstone

T.W. Blackstone is a writer, artist, and engineer. This conflicting list is what leads to immersive worlds with original and re-imagined creatures.

Book preview

The Well of Thirst, and others

by T.W. Blackstone

Cover art and all illustrations by T.W. Blackstone

First addition published 2021

Distributed by Smashwords

Copyright 2021 by T.W. Blackstone

ISBN 979-8-9850541-0-1

All rights reserved. This may not be reproduced in part or in whole without expressed permission by the author.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anyone is purely coincidental.

https://TWBlackstone.com

What Love Makes Of Us

They sat in the dirt, husband and wife, mourning their loss. The gravestone letters were inscribed with, 'Here lies Alice Woodruff, taken far too soon'. Mike Woodruff barely breathed, the sorrow having sucked him dry. His wife, Alice Woodruff, screamed at him, tears running down her face. He could not hear her. It was dark, Mike having stayed too long again.

A flashlight bounced in the distance. Mike wrestled to his feet and walked away. Alice grabbed onto him, her hands going right through. She struggled against something almost like a rubbery cage that kept her there, eventually clawing at the ground with her fingers, but she was stuck.

She screamed, Don't leave me here.

That was months ago. Eventually he replaced visits with alcohol. Alice still cried and struggled, each day exactly the same; a replay of the crash, the wake, the burial, the utter alone-ness, and the confusion. The only sensation, the only feeling, was cold. All the time, cold.

Why would he leave me?

Until the worm.

An earthworm had followed the flavors of decay through cracks and crevices to find her body, broken down and soft. It easily burrowed into her calf. She noticed this, not sure what it was at first other than an intrusion. Another life, poking at her and worse, distracting her from sorrow. It took some looking at the worm before she realized, because she could no longer see things in the flesh; she saw the tiny glow of life.

How dare you. How dare you feed on me. This is my body. Not yours. Get out.

The worm kept worming.

She pushed it away, clawed at it, screamed at it, but it kept inching deeper into her leg, delighting in the nutrients. Savagery of an animal took over Alice and she bit the worm. The worm died. Or, more accurately, she absorbed the life energy of the worm.

The sensation came as a shock. It was barely a feeling at all, but it was the first thing she had felt since her death, except for the never ending cold. It was not until the fifth worm that she noticed the effect it had on her. She pushed her hand, as best as she could recall her hand, against her elastic cage and it gave just a bit.

So that's it then, worms it is. She called to them, pushing her decay through the dirt and calling anything that deep to come to dinner. She ate them all, and the insects above ground, like a spider to suck up their essence through their thin exoskeleton shell.

A bird landed to eat one of these insects, and Alice dove for it, mouth first. But the bird was too strong. It flew away. The old man that took care of things stopped by and she tried to eat him, which met with even less success.

He scratched his head. What happened here? Did someone put down weed killer? He pulled dead flowers out of the ground. Don't need that crazy husband giving me a hard time. I take pride in my work. He probably put down the wrong fertilizer. Have to redo the whole damn thing.

Days later and her invisible soul could push to the cemetery gate. Alice spent most of her time following Herb, one of the groundskeepers. He talked to himself and included enough pauses to allow her to say something, like a pretend conversation she could believe in.

Hey, man. You look like shit. It was Rodriguez in his blue work clothes. You should go home.

You smell like shit.

Rodriguez rolled his eyes. That one comeback of yours? Find another. But really, you got sick days. You're the senior guy here. You can go home. You earned it.

I'm fine.

Tomorrow, it's gonna be cold and rainy. No burials scheduled.

Herb shrugged to say he might consider it. Alice smiled at Herb. He reminded her of grandpa, bald on top, gray everywhere else, and those deep lines that make men look distinguished. He looked so much more distinguished every day.

* * *

I know you'd be angry. It's been a while. Mike stood, looking somewhat better and staring at the headstone.

Yes it has been, she said back.

The flowers look nice.

No they don't. In fact, Alice could barely see them. To her, the color of a living flower came from life flowing between roots and leaves, from the sparkle between sun and cell, between nutrient and root. But man-made objects were dark and translucent, like shadows. And the sun? For her it had traded places with the moon.

Well, they look nice from the road. For plastic they look OK. That one guy around here told me,

Herb.

That happens to the soil when . . . Anyway, Mike grabbed his ears like he was going to rip them off. I'm not doing very well. Yesterday I woke up in the yard. No idea how I got there. And I couldn't let go of this bottle. It was like my only source of oxygen or something.

Alice sat and listened.

I remember feeling like shit. Drunk and shitty. How messed up is that? When booze can't fix it?

He sniffed, considered sitting on the damp grass and reconsidered. Beth has been helping.

Who?

You wouldn't know her. Maybe you met when, I don't know. She's from the office. A different area: accounting. Anyway, she's brought over a casserole a few times and we talk.

Oh really.

He laughed like a hiccup. That's the only time I talk to anyone. I buy food, I buy booze, or I wind up here.

You work with her and she's feeding you.

I miss you too much. I'd do anything to hear your voice again.

Well then listen to me for once. Who does this slut think she is moving in on you like this? Stop ignoring me and take me home.

He nearly ran away. Alice's hands went from wispy vague to crisp and detailed so she could clench her fists. She drifted after him. The tug that kept her from wandering too far forced her to grip the soil with her toes, them coming into focus as well.

Don't you dare leave me.

She ran after him, jumped, and landed on his back, her fingers sinking in. He sobbed horribly and dropped to one knee, I wish I didn't still love you.

She said in his ear, But you do.

* * *

Beth's smile snapped to shock. My God, Mike. You look terrible.

He backed away from the door to let her in. His normal olive complexion had gone to milk and his black hair combed back had gotten thin and stringy. The fleshy cheeks that rounded out his handsome features looked skeletal, with nose, brow, and jaw over-large. Alice perched on his back, her toes sunk into his ribs and her arms crossed on top of his head. She had looked very content until Beth appeared.

Good thing I brought you food. Looks like you need it. Beth smiled. She looked Greek or Italian, some kind of Mediterranean tint with classic features, just like Mike. Alice felt self-conscious about her blond hair and stereotypical American narrow features.

Alice leaned over and dragged her finger in the casserole as it and Beth passed by. The essence of worm and centipede inched and skittered up through her soul, down her arm, and into the casserole. Good riddance, she thought. Sometimes those critters would gather of their own accord within her. She had to fight them back where they belonged.

It's freezing in here. You hungry?

She turned to wait for Mike to respond. He shook his head.

I'll just put it in the fridge. Do you have the AC turned on?

The three of them sat together, Mike on the edge of the couch, head down. Beth had pulled up a chair to be knee to knee to him. Alice stayed on Mike, her jaw nestled on the crown of Mike's head. The whites of her eyes did not exist, allowing the blue flames of hate flickering inside to shine out with a tiny roar of a propane torch.

I dreamed of Alice again. We just slept next to each other, but we were awake and aware. Such a long dream. She said things, but I couldn't hear her. She looked happy.

Beth put her hand, eloquent red fingernails, on Mike's. Alice growled, with no-one to hear. The bottom corners of her jaw slowly slid down Mike's skull, his forehead, farther down until her whole face stuck on top of his, her neck sticking out the back of his head like a worm to an apple. Her teeth turned jagged sharp and smoke fell out of her mouth.

Beth took a quick breath, assuming the twist in her stomach was a social cue that she had overstepped bounds. This is not normal. This is not just grief. You need to go to a doctor and take your medication.

He nodded. I know.

When they leaned back to sit properly, Alice perched upon Beth, grinning.

* * *

Alice clawed at Beth's arm as Beth tried to unlock her apartment. Keys fell. Alice screamed in laughter. When Beth bent over, Alice bit hard on Beth's other arm that held groceries. The bag tilted too far and things tumbled out. Alice whooped and danced in the hallway. She loved this new game. Beth looked ill.

Sometimes, dogs and children noticed Alice. She realized that over time her mind cleared, her hands more crisp in detail, her coffin tugging her home barely noticeable. The cycle of horrors, her death, her wake, the nothingness, was a visiting memory instead of a repeating reality.

She knew why. Your life is mine. She climbed up on Beth, digging her sharp toes into flesh and mounting like a cowboy to ride.

Beth eventually got inside. Her phone rang. She said into it,

Oh, hey Mike. How are you doing?

Oh, good.

That's really good.

Yeah, I'm just tired.

Maybe not tonight. I'm feeling run down.

She half smiled. Wow. Pizza? Going all out.

Just, um, just give me a few hours. Sure. Bye.

In the shower, Alice snarled with an over-wide mouth. Don't you dare. Don't you dare shave your legs. He'll never see them. Never. He doesn't love you. He loves me. Only me. Forever, me.

Beth kept shaving, soap suds and an over-quick hand.

Alice screamed and smacked Beth's arm. I said stop that.

Beth jerked back with a wince. Two red razor lines appeared, then dark blood, then bright red, spread all over mixed with water.

Alice stared at the blood. It had a metallic sparkle to it as if every cell glistened with life. She smelled it, getting closer, dog-like, to sniff it. More than copper and iron, it smelled like meat, fresh, rare and expertly seared, like food. Wonderful and desperately needed food.

Alice licked. Beth screamed. Both fell back. For a slow-motion moment, Beth sat in the shower staring at Alice's form. Alice sat on the other side of the shower curtain, translucent, too shocked at it all to do anything.

Beth yanked the curtain away. Nothing to see. Alice was still there, but rationality came roaring back inside Beth's head to keep her blind. Beth cried a good long while before she finished up. Meanwhile, Alice stared at herself in the mirror and saw her red tongue. The red soaked into the inside of her cheeks and coalesced along the miniature veins, tingling all the while. Having been numb to everything but the cold for so long, the feeling of existing overwhelmed her.

Alice watched her tongue and mouth as she spoke. I'm alive again. This is touch. This is feeling, sensation. Just a drop and look how it has spread. I have cheeks. I have gums. Mike deserves more. He needs a wife he can touch. And now he can. We can truly be together again.

Her smile left, her eyes slowly rotated until they pointed the other direction, looking through her skull. I need more.

Beth had sent a text that she wasn't coming - had to sleep, so she did, sprawled in her bed. Her chest heaved regularly with over-long pauses in-between. Alice kept poking at her, trying to get the covers off. It took half the night of barely tossing and turning before the calf came out from under the covers.

Alice carefully licked at the soft scab to weaken it. Not too hard, can't afford to wake up the slut. The bleeding began, slowly, the undiluted flavor even greater than before. Blood slowly pooled in Alice's mouth, enough for a swallow. It went down her throat and curved in her chest to spread throughout her heart, filling the different chambers a teaspoon each. The heart did not beat. She kept drinking, slowly and carefully, filling up the heart drop by drop. Beth paled. Her breathing went shallow and wet sounding. Alice licked blood as if it were food and water and orgasm.

Her heart tensed, tensed more, hurting Alice like being crushed. She staggered back, trying to get away. Then the heart beat once. The blood spread like the blossoming of a rose. Massive arteries took most of it, feeding smaller branches, smaller still, smaller still. Some went up to her brain, in her eyes, in her lips. Some went to her shoulders and down along her arms, then eventually all the way to the fingertips. Her fingertips felt the subtle smoothness of eggshell finish paint on the wall.

She felt the heaviness of her arm as she raised it up to see. She felt her eyeballs roll in their sockets to look down. The blood stopped moving, not enough to fill every vein and artery. She drifted over to the kitchen where the light was on and looked at her shadow, subtle as it was. But that was confirmation that she was real.

Soon, now. Very soon.

She tried to pick up the phone. Alice gripped harder, harder, almost getting it, until it hurt. Bloody prints left on the phone. She rushed over to the door and touched the handle. Trapped.

Alice put her hands to her face, feeling vein to vein like living spaghetti. I have to get out of here. I can't be seen like this. What would Mike think if... What do I do? What do I do?

A cat made a siren sound, low - high - low. It backed away from her, staring.

Alice smiled. Beth has a cat. Well of course she does. And what a lovely thing you are indeed.

The neighbors woke but only listened. Beth had a bad dream about screaming kittens. Eventually though, near morning, Alice had cornered the animal where she could get close enough to draw away its essence, weakening its ability to fight. The cat got in one good swipe and opened up veins, nearly draining the whole arm.

But now, it barely hissed. Its eyes crossed and the whitish second eyelid came into view. Now was the time. Alice didn't know what to do with the thing. Rather, how to. She could barely touch anything as she was. What now? It tried to jump away and Alice let it. The cat landed on the ground and didn't move, stuck between exhaustion and panic, still growling but with eyes closed, head bobbing.

Alice laid down and opened her mouth. She opened her mouth all the way, feeling the cat's fuzzy ears and hard chin. Another slide forward and her mouth could close a bit around the neck. Immediately the fur sloughed off. Then the skin broke along great cracks and peeled back. Chunks of muscle dislodged themselves and floated inside Alice. She slid forward again, open more for the flexible shoulder and rib cage, recoiling from the fuzz on her tongue. The skull broke apart and those chunks went floating as well. The eyes floated inside the skull, pointing randomly. Ribs broke off. Another slide to the belly, then the pelvis, legs, feet, and the last of the tail.

She laid there, feeling the bits float around on their own, trying to understand what was going on. It was all a bit strange, really, eating a cat whole. Silly. Ridiculous even. But wouldn't that mean eating a hamburger was just as silly? A hamburger doesn't stay that way forever. The body digests it, and becomes the body. Her new cat eyes saw things in fantastic detail. Color and texture blossomed upon all surfaces. Even the mundane rug transformed into a glistening gem. All those shadowy things became so real, like she remembered.

But these bits would not be digested. They were her now. Sitting up took some effort. She looked at her hand, her right hand, thinking about what it meant to be a hand. What it did and how it worked. Cat bones floated down her arm and wandered, looking for a best fit inside the ghost of a hand. The best she could get were a couple of fingers and a thumb, straight all of them, from cat leg bones. Muscle came snaking in and joined. Vertebrae joined at the wrist, and skin slid over that, stretching or tucking in where necessary. The cat fur fell out of her body, or became stuck on whatever happened to be in the way.

My God that's horrible. She looked at her new hand, two fingers and a thumb as if made of sticks. But it worked reasonably well. Now she could make her escape.

* * *

Alice