Write A Scene

    There atop a steaming sewer vent, beside a murky gutter, laid a rat burrowed in a heap of filthy blankets. Its face coarse, its claws yellow from grime, its fur stained by seeping garbage bags and its tail severed. A beautiful mind however this rat possessed. We tend not to look behind someone else’s eyes to see and feel their pains. Though what else could it have done? Who listened to a nomad of the garbage? Beauty within we believe; thwarts deformity. The rat’s body chilled and shivered, its claws held the ragged coverings over its face, defending it from a viciously cold world. Then a shot of sunlight pierced through a crevice in the rags. Emanating between its skeletal fingers were a pair of gleaming blue eyes. Its mouth toothless and wordless, but the amulets spoke. Occasionally, a passerby spit and snickered. Another wouldn’t even look twice. One took a second glance and her eyes glossed over, looking away by the insistence of the world. This sewage rat was alone.

      Promenading up the very street was a finely coated fox lashing a flock of sheep who dared not step out from his long, dark shadow. Clearly astute to epicurean manners before ladies and prominent others, this gentleman had a stone for a heart. He has green eyes that burn red in the purity of the sunlight. He wears a brimmed billy-cock hat, his eyes gleaming like two distant stars within the shadows beneath the brim. His coat was flat and silky of a chestnut-red hue, and his ears tapered to a sharp point; richly black on the tips. He dons a gold chain watch that winks in the eyes of immoral young ladies. Under his coat he had a white silk shirt. His well-built legs sheathed in polished leather jackboots that shined in the sun. This finely dressed gentleman had a body void of kindness... His ears flickered. Hearing a strong beating heart… no heart from his flock. The finely coated gentleman’s nostrils flared, sweltering in anticipation. Those red tinted eyes fixated on the heap of worn blankets. This stalking fox then educated to his flock of sheep with his lash to halt. His ears flicking, his slender muzzle sniffed a foul odor emanating from the gutter across the street.

     “What a sickly ridiculous, ragged puppet of welfare! Filth!” hollered the epicurean gentleman. His herd of sheep cackled.
     “What a repulsive fellow!” one sheep followed its master’s mockery.
     “Not even a fellow!” the gentleman exclaimed.

     They shifted their black eyes away from what another in the flock called “an insane lad…” another cackle, save one. A lone sheep. She was a loner even in her own flock and secretly despised her master. She shifted her focus from within her master’s shadow to the rest of her flock and to the heap of filthy coverings. The rat parted its claws and peeked through a crevice in the blankets and saw her looking at him. Lifting his claws from his face, he saw such beauty he could never touch.
     “By what name does your master call you poor sheep?” the rat’s voice was raspy from disuse.
The flock pretended not to hear and promenaded on. Surprised, the lone sheep answered swiftly;
     “by none sir.”
With a great snap from his lash on the cobblestone the master halted his flock. Shifting his attention on the lone sheep and scorned her;
      “sir? You call that thing a ‘sir!’” The fox’s red eyes seared into the timid brown of the lone sheep. She only dared to speak with her silence.  
  
  “What say you idiot!” scowled the fox at the rat. The rat quickly closed the crevice and burrowed within its warm, safe home.  
    “An insane lad indeed… dumbstruck!” the gentleman declared. He shifted to the lone sheep with his glaring red eyes and then to his flock;
“what did that idiot say to my flock?”
The flock banded closer together, mocking the ‘lone idiot’ and cheering their master. Their hooves stomped the cobblestone as if it were the steps of a scurrying herd. Hideous giggles hissed amongst the herd, save one.
     “I said nothing of offense” answered the rat to the gentleman.  
The fox glared at what he didn’t understand. He looked down at the gutter which was damned by piles of litter. Within this murk the ends of the heap’s blankets dipped and saturated in waste. The fox added the murk with a glob of spit, which flowed round’ the corner of one blanket before sticking to the other. With his lash the gentleman motioned to his flock to carry on their walk. As the flock’s hooves clapped over the cobblestone, the lone sheep lagged behind in a meandrous route, heaving away from the herd.

     “I am but a gentleman myself!” declared the rat.
His body emerged from the heap, his charcoal fur coat encrusted with grime.
The flock halted in a catatonic gaze at him. Chin up and without turning cheek, the fox stepped a few heavy paces more.
     “What did you say idiot?”
The flock shifted focus from their master to a dirty, blue-eyed rat.
     “I myself am a fox! Swift, smart and obstinate!” Countered the rat.
His raspy voice fighting the long disuse. The flock gasped, turning to their master. The fox spun to his flock, their timid legs trembled beneath the domination of those towering red tinted eyes.
     “You’re nothing I must tell you!” lashed the fox. “Nothing more than these” pointing his lash at his flock.  Some chuckled, but the lone sheep dipped her head.
     “My, your gentleman’s quite prickly! As well as a belligerent bastard!” the blue-eyed vagrant declared to the flock. The fox snarled, the red of hell in the in the shadow of his face was profound. The gloss in his eyes boiled, as if they have been overcome with rage.
     “You cannot be of sane mind lunatic!” the fox declared.
     “I’m more of a gentleman than you’ll ever be,” the blue-eyed vagrant retorted.
A sharp snickering pierced the air from the flock, save one. The fox himself had a chuckle. The blue eyes noticed the lone sheep that stood reticent, unfortunately eyes don’t scream.  
     “You’re a piece of refuse!” the fox scorned.
     “And you’re a narrow-minded fool!” retaliated the blue-eyed rat. The flock jolted and gasped, save one. As for the gentleman, he lashed a howl and made no reservation as to the weight of his jackboots upon the cobblestone and briskly drew closer to those daring, intrepid blue eyes. A moment and the fox stood beside the very spit-ridden gutter.
     “What in the bloody hell did you call me?”
The rat withdrew beneath its heap where there’s warm silence.

     The gentleman kicked up a brown splash of gutter stream onto his coverings. Silence... Then the gentleman prodded the saturated drapes with his lash and with no response, he prodded more forcefully. The gentleman turned to his gang and affirmed; “you see! Garbage doesn’t speak!” The flock roared in amusement, save one. “Speak!” the fox snarled.
     “To whom… a bastard such as you?” a voice muffled from beneath.
The gentleman ripped the coverings from him, whipping his lash across his body, a body of many past scares and bruises. In frightened response to this, his face sought refuge behind the pair of his tattered gloves. The whips and jackboot bruised and lacerated the flesh of his body as his rags tore easily under the brute strength.  

     A pair of blue gems emerged from beneath his bloody hands. Drips of blood beaded down over his face. Still, silent and obstinate, those eyes fought back. The gentleman towered over him. That vagrant stained in his black shadow appeared impotent to the gang. Those green eyes themselves unsheathed and stabbed with daggers. The gentleman’s appearance calmer, mind and speech keen and quick, he granted no clemency to the poor man in heaps strewn over the sewer vent by the gutter.
     “The sewer heat keeping you warm eh? Refuse!” the gentleman kicked up more gutter stream into his face, diluting the streams of blood as much of it dispersed down his swelling cheeks. The gentleman stomped his face again at the inciting of his gang, all save one. The lone girl dared not to look, fearing her memory would scar. The gang’s snickers were hideous to her.

     The gentleman’s hat dropped, illuminating the stone face to his gang. They knew too well to try to flatter him. The gentleman’s chest swelled and breathed out an opaque stream of smoke from a cigar. The gang continued to mock the man, their leader spit once more into the bleeding face of the blue-eyed gentleman. Those eyes dimming yet still defiant, those jackboots kicked more, the gang cheering and laughing, save one.
    
     The gentleman, sure of victory, turned and left the heap of blood, spit and bruises in the gutter. The need of a fine polishing for his boots came to mind. The fox leapt onto the opposite curb and strolled on, his gang following in his long, dark shadow, all save one.

    The lone girl deserted the gang, perhaps one or two noticed but they cared not in the shadowy sanctity of their gang leader. Moments passed… She stood in paralysis, gazing at the bloody heap of blankets, waiting for some sort of stirring from the beauty beneath. And there she stood a few moment’s longer, brilliant white woolen coat, glossy brown eyes and soft breath. Then a shudder from beneath the blankets or maybe it was her aching heart, she couldn’t tell. But she did know somewhere beneath, those brilliant blue eyes sought refuge from a cold world. She waited moments more in vain.

     Her pristine boots tapped the cold cobblestone, closer to him. She respected his persistence against that foul-hearted man hidden beneath flashy attire; she couldn’t be more disparate to those rigid green eyes. She caught sight of some sort of notepad jutting out from beneath a blanket. Halfway in the gutter; its pages were saturated. She opened the cover delicately as not to tear the pages. First page showed his words still legible. Out of a swollen conscience, she felt beholden to his journal. She nudged the pile and no answer ever came. For being a coward minutes before, she berated herself for letting his pretty blue eyes die. Her heart itself bleeds through her eyes, streaming over her cheeks, beading over her jacket, plummeting onto his blankets. Those blue eyes dimmed.        

Once Bitten Twice Fallen  
Vlad Dracul’s Residence  
Sighisoara, Romania  

Naynina’s feet were begging for relief. She noticed Professor Peeples was in a foil mood. He avoided her presence at all cost.  
 
“Everyone, this is the last site on this tour today,” Professor Peeples stated.  
“Thank goodness,” Naynina uttered.  
 
Professor Peeples cut his eyes over in Naynina’s direction. He mumbled something under his breath at her.  
 
Naynina looked at the small yellow and brown house.  
 
“In this house lived between the years 1431-1435 the ruler of Wallachia Vlad Dracul son of Mircea the Old.”  
She read the inscription on the plague affixed to the home of the late Vlad Dracul.  
 
“Wow.”  
“Impressive, to be actually standing in front of the man known as Dracula’s home,” Mimi stated.  
“If you read the historian books. The two in comparison is so minimum. Vlad was a ruthless ruler. His unorthodox way in regards to how he treated his enemies were brutal and legendary, but Dracula he was not.”  
 
Mimi looked over the house.  
 
“I guess his impaling brutality had something to do with him and his brother being held captive by the Turkish government on behalf of keeping his father in line.”  
“What a fascination history in the least.” Naynina turned from looking over the home. She looked over at Mimi. “Mimi, what are you doing much later?”  
Mimi turned to face Naynina.  
“Nothing why?”  
“How about we hit the town this evening. I’ve seen some handsome looking men.”  
“And I thought Professor Constantine was the only one turning your head.”  
 
Strange, it was not by design, but by fate. A fate she is trying to fight or flee she thought.  
 
She felt giddy last night sharing his bed throughout the night. After she awaken, she could not remember anything beyond the feeling of being fatigue, weightless, attuned with her body, and two more insect bites to her neck. The other two to her inner thigh has miraculously healed and completely disappeared.  
 
“Naynina, what time should I be ready.”  
“I tell you what. How about we get a hotel room in town, from here, go shopping, which will be on me.”  
“I do not swing that way.”  
“Girl, are you in or you’re out.”  
Mimi thought about it.  
“I’m in, and you’re buying my outfit for tonight right.”  
“I have you. Let me ask you a question. Have you ever known a man who sleeps with rich soil under his mattress?”  
“And would not want too.”  
 
Naynina noticed when she was looking for her sandals under the bed. A speck of dirt grim caught her eyes; she followed her discovery, after lifting the mattress. There laid a bed of rich soil layering the entire boxspring. She was glad Dracon was detained in the bathroom. She did not have the heart to ask him of such a foolish detection.  
 
Both women entered the tourist attraction site.  
 
VASILE’S RESIDENCE  
Sighisoara, Romania  
Later That Afternoon  
 
Vasile slammed the door close upon entering his residence.  
His mother ran out the Solarium to investigate.  
 
“Oh, I could shed his sorry ass skin into pieces,” Vasile screamed out as he paced back and forth.  
“Son, what is this madness that has troubled you.”  
Vasile looked up. His fiery eyes crossed the room.  
“That…”  
“Watch what rolls off your tongue in front of your mother.”  
“Professor Constantine is ruing everything.”  
His mother rested her palms akimbo on her hips.  
“Is this nonsense in regards to this fairy woman?”  
“Yes. Naynina, should be mine. It was our ancestry clan who provided her refuge.”  
“Yes, until a male vampire from your ancestry clan apparently fell in love with her, and then killed off her delirious lover.”  
“What! Why am I just hearing of this, mother?”  
“I never imagined something of this caliber, which has occurred centuries ago will confront this family in the future once again.”  
“So, let me get this straight. Someone from the Tremere clan fell in love with Naynina?”  
“Yes.”  
“Then what happened to her.”  
“It was explained to me years ago Dracon went into battle with the Lasombra clan. His beloved was killed that night.”  
“Wait a minute. Naynina was immortal back then.”  
“Yes, Dracon was already a part of the Ventrue Vampire clan.”  
“Please continue mother.”  
“Dracon was the vampire who turned Naynina, giving her immortality. This woman then ran off with someone from the Lasombra Clan.  The man who she ran off with was eventually enslaved by the Tremere Clan until his death of learning Naynina fell in love with a vampire of our clan. Her mother would not allow this union. Therefore, she bargained her vampire blood with a Fairy to protect her daughter and instill her with internal gifts as a Fairy, which would possess and make her an unrestricted woman to stand on her on without the sacrifice of a fang bite from a vampire. It’s believed the man who takes Naynina’s virginity without revealing the true nature of himself, will come to possess her for eternity and share in the phenomenal gifts of her supernatural powers.”  
“So this little cat and mouse game Professor Constantine and I am playing is fruitless.”  
“Not if you claim her virginity first.”  
“Well Dracon has a head start. He was once married to her, and I’m sure he is trying to relive memories, while making future ones.”  
“Son, Naynina is human. Yes she has Fairy blood running through her veins, but until she comes into her own right. She thinks as a human and act as a human would. The only thing that makes her unique is, she could never die, she will reincarnate, into a different place or a different time. You heard the saying, Once Bitten Twice Fallen.”  
“Yes, Dracon may have bitten her first, but I’m sure she will fall for one of us once again.”  
 
Vasile palmed his goatee down.  
 
“Thank you mother for the clarification. Is Vacome around?”  
“As a matter of speaking, I have not seen Valan or Vacome.”  
“I will speak with you much later, mother.”  
 
Both flashed their presence in different directions.  
 
DRACON’S CASTLE  
Sighisoara, Romania  
 
Dracon closed the door. He looked around his residence  
Mordecai appeared.  
 
“Good afternoon Mordecai.”  
“Good afternoon Master. Would you like something to drink?”  
“I’m fine, have you seen Naynina around?”  
“Everyone has returned from the tour, however, Miss. Polanski, and the auburn-haired woman did not return.”  
“Oh.” Dracon looked down at his watch. He looked back up at Mordecai. “Is Professor Peeples around? If so, would you tell him to meet me in my study?”  
“Yes Master.”  
 
Mordecai turned and walked away.  
Dracon sniffed the air.  
 
“Dammit!” He could not smell Naynina’s aura. “Shit.” He sniffed the air again. “Fuck.” He flashed his presence up the staircases in anger. He busted through the closed door of his bedroom. Dracon opened the dresser drawer and lifted Naynina’s ripped thong. He sniffed the thong and then sniffled the air again. “Fuck…Fuck.”  
 
Dracon slammed the thong back into the drawer and pushed it closed. He flashed his presence out the door and down the flight of staircases. He opened the front door and stepped out. He sniffed the air. He could not smell Naynina’s aura, or her essence. “What the fuck!”  
 
Dracon walked back inside his residence. He pushed the door close. He turned around  
 
“You house servant stated you wanted to see me.”  
“It has been brought to my attention that Naynina or Mimi did not return with the rest of your students.”  
“You are correct. Mimi along with Naynina are shopping. They will return much later as promised.”  
 
Dracon palmed down his goatee.  
 
“And make sure they do.”  
 
Dracon turned to walk away.  
 
“Professor Constantine, why Naynina? I have been bringing students here for years. And this is the first student who you have taking a personal keen interest in.”  
“I treat all the students accordingly, as for Naynina. She’s smart, and...”  
“Young and vulnerable.”  
“I hardly noticed. And she reminds me of someone.”  
 
I’ve loved centuries ago.  
 
“I know you are childless. So who does she reminds you of, a lover, wife, a bedmate?”  
“Since we are laying our cards on the table as men. I know you feel something for Naynina, and the way I see it. You are chagrined this hidden torch you have for her, has been extinguished by a man who she just met. Have no fear Professor Peeples, I expect to take care of Naynina’s emotions as a gentleman would.”  
“She is my student.”  
“As you stated your student not mine.”  
 
Dracon walked away from Professor Peeples.  
Mr. Peeples looked at Dracon’s departing back.  
 
Thank goodness he did not relate to Professor Constantine. His two students were not returning until tomorrow evening.  
 
Amzei Hotel  
Bucharest, Romania  
Later That Evening  
 
“Girl, had I known you had this hotel in mind and two hours away. I would have made you pay for me a Coach bag.”  
“I thought us girls could use a change of venue.”  
“It was clever of you to advise Professor Peeples you have a professor who was knowledgeable in regards to a digging site. The site we broke ground on today was a fruitless search.”  
“I hope he doesn’t relate to Professor Constantine of our whereabouts. I’m sure he will reprimand him regarding us fleeing his presence.”  
“No, more like you fleeing his presence. Professor Constantine has an obsession when it comes to you. The other students as well as I noticed it the first day you arrived.”  
“Well the feelings are not mutual. I am just passing the time away, and having me some fun along the way.  
 
Then why was her flesh tingling with anticipation of being in his arms again. Funny, she thought for a minute she could smell his existence. Naynina slightly inhaled. She could not smell his body chemistry.  
 
“Well it’s about us tonight.”  
“Would you like to flip to see who uses the bathroom?”  
“You may go first. I need to call Levi. I’m sure he’s worried about my MIA status.”  
“You do not have to twist my arm.”  
Mimi lifted her shopping bags from off the bed and walked to the door. She turned around.  
“Look I know we may not…”  
“Don’t worry about it, thanks for accompanying me.”  
Mimi smiled. She entered the bathroom and pushed the door close.  
 
VACOME’S CONDOMINIUM  
Constana, Romania  
 
Vacome walked through the entrance hall of his condominium. He walked over to the door, opened it, and then walked out. He pulled the door close. Vacome walked to elevator leading to the inside garage. He pushed the elevator down button. He dipped inside his back pants pocket and pulled out his Blackberry; he lifted it and then pressed in number. He placed it up to his ear.  
 
THE AUTHORITY FEDERATION  
Budapest, Hungary  
 
“Yes this is Salice.”  
“What do you got for me?”  
“One of my men followed your person of interest to a hotel in Bucharest, Romania.”  
“Is she alone?”  
“No she has a traveling companion.”  
Vacome palmed his goatee down.  
“I want to know everywhere she goes. Until I can get there. Say, you do not see Dracon around anywhere.”  
“No, it’s quiet on the front. Is this woman really worth it?”  
Vacome sniffed the air.  
“Yes, I’ve tasted her lips in another lifetime. It could be my imagination, but before I walk away, I would like to exhaust all possibilities.”  
“Just make sure you keep your brother on a tight leash. That fiasco in the woods is not winning your clan any brownie points.”  
“Thanks man, I owe you one.”  
“Yes the next virgin you come across.”  
“You got it, and you do know…”  
“Yes, this little favor goes no farther between you and me.”  
“Later.”  
Vacome slid his Blackberry down and returned it to his back pants pocket.  
 
Lente & Cafea  
Bucharest, Romania  
Later That Evening  
 
Naynina and Mimi was seated at an elegant table overlooking the urban garden.  
 
“Would either one of you beautiful ladies like an appetizer before dinner is served?”  
 
Mimi looked across the table at Naynina.  
 
“Yes, you could bring us a salad, and two tonic waters.”  
“Yes ma’am.”  
 
The waiter turned from the table and walked away.  
 
Vacome pulled his Jeep Renegade in front of the restaurant his contact advised him Naynina and another female were dining at. He unstrapped his seatbelt, opened the door, and stepped out.  
 
“Good evening sir, welcome to Lente and Cafea.”  
“You bet.”  
 
The valet got inside Vacome’s vehicle, pulled the door close, and drove away.  
 
Vacome straightened his black silk tie. He walked in the direction of the restaurant.  
 
DRACON’S CASTLE  
Sighisoara, Romania  
 
Dracon sat around the dining room table. He looked over at the empty table setting Naynina usually occupied. He lifted his goblet and took a sip of the contents within. He glanced over at the mounted wall clock. He looked down at Professor Peeples.  
 
I guess that motherfucker will crave for Naynina’s touch throughout the night like me. Too bad she will not return until tomorrow evening.  
 
Dracon tightened the goblet in his hand.  
Everyone looked toward the host.  
 
“I apologize, please excuse me. Professor Peeples, could I have private word with you.”  
 
Dracon stood and slammed his goblet down near his untouched plate. He walked out the dining room.  
 
“Excuse me everyone.”  
“More for me,” one of the students stated.  
 
Professor Peeples walked out the dining room. He looked around for Dracon. He turned around.  
 
“Where the fuck is Naynina!”  
 
Professor Peeples stepped back.  
 
“Pardon your French.”  
 
Dracon stepped in front of Professor Peeples’ face.  
 
“I will ask you one more time, then you face my wrath.”  
 
Professor Peeples straightened his tie.  
 
“Naynina and Mimi have decided to venture out on an assignment to interview someone who has assured us he knows of a perfect digging site.”  
“Dammit where?”  
“Bucharest, Romania.”  
“You lying bastard.”  
 
Dracon’s fangs descended in anger.  
 
“Sir, that will not be advisable,” Mordecai stated from behind. “There is a call for you in your study.”  
 
Dracon’s fangs retreated.  
 
“Excuse yourself.”  
 
Professor Peeples scurried back into the dining room.  
 
“Mordecai, I’m really not in the mood for any phone calls.”  
“Sir, its Miss. Polanski.”  
 
The only thing Mordecai saw was Dracon’s back as his presence quickly rounded the corner.  
 
Dracon hurried around his desk and lifted the telephone receiver. He placed it up to his ear.  
 
“Hello.”  
Lente & Cafea  
Bucharest, Romania  
 
“Hi Dracon, I wanted to advise you, I will not return this evening.”  
“Do you mind if I ask where you’re at.”  
“In a hotel.”  
“Alone.”  
“I am with Mimi.”  
“What’s the address of the hotel?”  
 
Dracon snatched up an ink pen from off his desk.  
 
“I prefer a little time alone.”  
“Dammit Naynina, no running this time.”  
“Dracon I am not running. This is happening way too fast.”  
“So what are you saying?”  
 
Naynina did not respond.  
 
“I thought I will call you to keep you from worrying, goodnight Dracon.”  
“Dammit wa…”  
 
Naynina disconnected the call.  
Dracon slammed the telephone receiver in the cradle.  
 
“Fuck!” He threw the ink pin across the room. “Shit!”  
 
Naynina walked out the ladies’ room.  
 
Copyright©SKC-2019

Iridescent spheres floating in springtime air
Childish giggles, sweet coos of innocence  
All worlds cease breathing, the angels watch  
their young charge delight in dancing  
 
Dish-soap bubbles in the air.    
Bluebell eyes widen with wonder  
golden ringlets flying in rhythm    
pattering of itty-bitty feet    

“Mama, I catch bubbles!”    
Sweet babyish voice crows in triumph  
radiant, confident in accomplishment  

Impermanent ethereal sphere  
Carefully cradled in tiny little hands

( Prose )    
   
   
The summer’s humidity creeps the simulated sidings of the trailer home that sits in its rental stall on pilings at the below-sea level park near a train trestle towering over a flat, dry riverbed, silhouetted against the naked glare of a full moon.    
   
In times past, long before there was a drought, heavy rains that came annually like clockwork would fill the riverbed with season’s deluge like an El Niño. It would cascade its banks, and had always caught park residents’ children unaware; playing too close with tragic results as the river’s path went on for miles down to the sea.    
   
On this particular night pregnant with fear in the extreme heat of stagnated, swollen air, unable to take on more baggage from what the mercury indicated from the house trailer’s interior; a man and woman were lying uneasy, side by side, on a queen mattress covered with disheveled and flattened gray sheets stained with their sweat, while all of the pillows had been shoved off and were scattered on the floor of a cramped bedroom at the far end of their home dimly lit by moonlight.    
   
Yet now the macramé curtains are closed, and no windows are cracked open, nor is the brass ceiling fan turning.  There were two empty glasses the couple had imbibed from hours ago during a moment toward a promise of lovemaking, no longer swaddled in the glow of the wine’s velour.    
   
He planted a long kiss, and the pain that always mystified them, passed.  Her pale body, almost thin, turned away even though their bodies still touched, pretending to sleep while listening to his forced breathing. Struck with a palsy and trying not to speak.    
   
Alarmed when she moved aside, reaching for the cunning in its metallic feel of cold smallness. She hasn’t noticed his breathing has stopped. The words are halting as his voice breaks,    
"I beg you, not tonight." The bed trembles as he shakes.    
   
She wants to hate him at this moment, but instead;  "Darling, don't speak of the dead."    
   
Then comes a sudden rasp as his throat closes in on itself, "You're not dead yet!"    
   
She turns to face his profile and makes him see as she offers it, then presses it into his clammy hand with a terrible resolve, "I need your help. Consider this a medicine to help me sleep".      
   
He can hardly see as his tears well up. Her eyes glisten as she helps him load only one chamber. She’s distracted how it sounds like rain is beginning to patter on the roof... and never hears him whisper    
   
"Oh God, forgive me..."  
 

This is another 400 word comp entry it's good practice in being concise..

‘What a glorious island darling sunshine, beautiful sea, this romantic bungalow, our own sailing dinghy. Simply perfect.’

‘Drink your iced tea my dear or it’ll get warm.’

Moira  drank deeply ‘shall I call the houseboy to bring more?’

‘I gave him the afternoon off dearest.’

‘Well I've had enough tea anyway.’

Yes, you certainly have my dear.’

Whatever do you mean John?’

‘I poisoned yours dearest you’ll be dying soon then I’ll have all your lovely money.’

‘Oh you silly boy did you think I didn’t realise why you brought me to this remote place? I swapped glasses when you went to the loo.’

He smiled knowingly ‘I knew you suspected me darling, that’s why I poisoned my glass not yours. I simply let you switch.

‘Really? That was clever.’

John smirked ‘I've bribed the police chief to falsify cause of death my sweet. A thousand now, two thousand on receipt of your death certificate. That’s eighteen months pay on these impoverished islands. These poor, simple people are so easily bribed you know.’

She grinned broadly ‘You know the trouble with clever people John is that sometimes they run away with the idea that they’re the only clever people.’

‘What on earth do you mean darling?’

‘I knew you'd try to murder me for my money. I also knew you’d use poison. You simply haven’t the guts for violence beloved. I also noticed that our glasses were not quite identical. Yours has a tiny chip in the base so you’d know which was which.’

‘So why swap them?’

‘Ah that’s my clever bit. I poured the contents of your cup into the empty tea jug then poured mine into yours. I then poured the poisoned tea back into mine.’

John looked aghast but before he could reply the houseboy entered.

‘I thought I gave you the afternoon off?’

‘Yes sir but I came back to remove your bodies.’

Moira looked astounded ‘What on earth is going on?’

The boy smiled ‘I poisoned the whole jug before I left.’

‘John was horrified ‘But why?’

‘You have ten thousand in cash, your cards and jewellery are worth thousands more.’ The boy laughed ‘you’ll be put in the dinghy and sent out to sea. A tragic Accident.’

‘But how....?

‘My uncle’s the police chief sir he’s a very clever man and we poor, simple people are so easily bribed you know.’

I’ll make you my sex goddess
And put you on a throne,
I’ll light the room with candles
And lick you to the bone,
I want to be your servant
And you can beat me up,
So sexy and so rampant
An angel from above,
Tease me without touching
I am your devotee,
I yearn your body clutching
So hard its hurting me,
You sit on your throne naked
and make me cum for you,
your body is so sacred
i thirst your juices brew.