Transient Girls

"I literally cannot wait for this party tonight," Said Chloe, a teenage girl wearing fashionable wide rim black glasses (yes, prescription actually) and platinum hair.
The diner was 50's retro styled, using 2013 materials. From the other side of the red leather booth a laugh was heard. A painfully beautiful woman pops up behind Chloe.
"I wouldn't go if I were you. Midnight is when they will come. Don't be around when they do."
Chloe's friends snickered but she was unnerved. She stared at the beautiful stranger and she stared back. The frightful womans eyes shimmered briefly. She then left abruptly.
"Hey!" Chloe shook her head and thought of her options.
"What a nutter," Cheryl laughed.
"Yeah..."
Peer pressure broke her fragile valve.
She went.

4 Weeks later, present day
Millengrad is a decent town, quiet and slow. When a dozen of its teenagers vanished, foul play suspected, it was the talk of the century. It stood to reason then it was why a police car pulled up in front of The Millengrad Hotel rooms, to interview a raven haired woman.
"So this woman isn't a suspect at all?" The first of the two, Dan asked disbelievingly.
"Not according to the girl's parents. This idea is ridiculous, if ask me but it is what is. Let's get it over with." Jacob answered.
Both were stocky, their workload was not as much as demanding as other departments.
They were nervous, but neither wanted to admit it.
Dan knocked on the door marked 5, hard. He struggled to maintain his voice firm and assertive, "Police, we want to speak you." The air surrounding the room with chilly and put him on edge.
After three more knocks they heard rustling inside as if bed covers were being pushed aside. They didn't hear the footsteps leading to the door when it opened wide.
"Yes?" The woman yawned, rubbing her bleary eyes. She was beautiful enough to stir the men's loins, but it almost hurt to look directly at her.
"I'm officer Dan Simmons and this is my partner, Jacob Wells." Dan showed her his badge, Jacob following suit.
"Twiller Darling," She shrugged, motioning them inside.  
Dan and Jacob entered, standing awkwardly while Twiller shut the door gently. She sat on the bed and stretched. The thin dressing gown slipped, revealing the top of milky white breasts. The men struggled not to stare.
She didn't bother to fix it.
"Mmm, what can I do for you, officers?" Her voice was dusky, deeper pitched then expected, but alluring all the same.
Jacob cleared his throat, "We'd like to know if you've seen or heard anything of Chloe Knowles? We're aware you're the last person to speak to her outside of her group of friends the day before her disappearance."
Twiller watched them carefully, "Nothing, nothing at all. Sorry, I can't help you gentlemen."
She got up, she was taller than witness reports stated. Jacob and Dan glanced at each other. They had nothing on her, no legitimate reason to stay.
Then she purred, "Unless you tell me the real reason you're here?"
The men looked at each other again.
"Fine miss. We're here on the request of Mr and Mrs Knowles."
The woman raised a black eyebrow, "Do go on."
Dan tried not to fidget while Jacob said, "They are offering ANYBODY a substantial reward to find their daughter..."
He trailed off when he saw her strange grin. She nodded and the policeman made hasty excuses to leave. They dashed back into the patrol car.
Dan looked back in the rearview mirror to see the woman leaning in the doorway, breast bare, revealing a pale nipple, eating a blood red apple. He'd never felt so grateful to leave a place in his life.
Like I said, Millengrad is a nice town. It's only sin is being so close to another town called Morganville.

4 weeks earlier
Chloe couldn't relax like the rest of her friends. Half were tipsy already, making out and laughing loudly. The desert night air was cool and she shivered. Sitting alert on a camping chair, she clutched a mug of hot cocoa tightly (extra marshmallows, the way she liked it).
She hadn't touched it.
This was supposed to be a celebration, leaving High School behind forever to figure out what they wanted to do with their lives. The first step included getting blind drunk.
Try as she might she just couldn't get into the party spirit.
Chloe's mind would always circle back to what the strange woman in the diner had said.
She didn't sound mad, even though she SHOULD have.
"Midnight is when they will come. Don't be around when they do."
Chloe kept a close eye on the time.
11:30.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder and she jumped.
"Jeez, Chloe. Lighten up, it's only me," sighed her best friend, Cheryl, who sat down beside her in an empty camp chair. "What's wrong? You've been on edge all night."
Cheryl's green eyes were worried.
It was true, but she didn't want to ruin her friends mood with her increasing paranoia.
Chloe smiled reassuringly, "Just thinking about some stuff." Chloe was a bright, sensible girl. She wanted to be a psych ward nurse. She wanted to help.
Cheryl nodded in understanding, while ruffling her curly, dark hair back into a ponytail. Somebody yelled Cheryl's name out.
She got up, patting Chloe's shoulder supportively, "Just remember tonight is to have fun."
Chloe watched her friend laugh and banter with everyone else. She took a sip of her cocoa and frowned.
It was cold.
Setting it aside she got up with a woolly blanket around her shoulders and went a little ways outside of camp to stretch her legs.
The minutes had ticked by faster then she'd realised.
11:45.
The hairs on the back of her neck rose. She had wandered  further out of camp then she'd consciously realised. She could just make out the spot of light from their fire, catching little snippets of laughter and tinny music.
She had begun to walk back when she spotted dark shapes moving quietly and unnaturally fast to the camp. Chloe's heart hammered in her chest.
Midnight they come.
The woman's eerie words echoed in her head.
She wanted to run and not look back.
She lifted her shaking wristwatch to her eyes.
11:55.
Some primal instinct made her run. She wasn't sure at first why. Then the cries and screaming began.
I can't breathe! I can't breathe! Chloe thought to herself as she ran into the night blindly, stupidly.
Not for an instant did she stop, not even when she could no longer hear the the tormented wails of her friends.
It didn't occur to her that she had no clue as to where she was going, or that she'd never survive the arid lands without water.
All that mattered was the pumping of her legs.

present day
Twiller headed out the day after the cops had visited her. She'd slung what little possessions she owned into a shoulder bag.
It was the peak of Summer. The freeway glistened and vibrated in the high nineties weather.
It didn't bother her too much.
She took out the map she had swiped from the tourist information centre. Yep, this was the way to Morganville.
Of course she had considered not wasting her time searching for the girl, she was most certainly dead or worse by now.
Still, something told Twiller otherwise. It was barely there, but it was there and she couldn't just ignore the possibility that she was alive and kicking somewhere.
Plus the promise of generous compensation didn't hurt either. Two days of walking would take her there. If the girl was indeed beyond hope, Twiller would just keep on walking. She had five bucks left to tide her over until she found another gig.
Sweat trickled down her forehead, stinging her eyes and irritating the scar on the right. Damn thing refused to heal right (like other, hidden wounds). Normally she'd just cover it up with cosmetics, it made people uncomfortable. But she had none left so the sensitive ones could go stick it!
She had no shoes, her feet hurt like hell and she loved it, it was distracting her from other deeper hurts. Still, the number one thing on her list was to buy a new pair. When she had the money. Right. Even if her mother may have allowed this escapade to America she sure wasn't going to help out.
Evening rolled around and Twiller had made good time. She pulled out a can of baked beans from of her ratty shoulder bag. She sat on her hunches and ate her meagre meal.
This better be worth it.
She hated sleeping to an obsessive degree, so she got up and carried on. Not many cars passed her, those that did sped up when they spotted her. She didn't blame them and didn't much care.
It was dusk the next day when she arrived in Morganville. Hardly anyone was out, those that were looked like they were in a hurry to get home. The town smelt off, something was different here.
Twiller bit back a yawn. Fucking hell, she dreaded sleep. She had spent the majority of her money on that hotel room. At least it had a nice bed, she was absolutely sick of making base in trees. She decided to blow the last of her free cash on a drink, afterwards all that would be left was the emergency money.
After some aimless walking Twiller came to a shop called Common Grounds. Mouth watering scents wafted from the open door.
Twiller checked her feet, bruised but not bloody.
Well, there's no sign that says I need shoes, she thought and headed in.

Eve had her hands full of chai lattes when a new customer came in and sat in a corner table facing a window.
"Be right there," she said cheerily.
Grabbing her notepad she made her way over. She stopped short when she saw the pretty woman sitting there. She was dusty and looked bone dead tired. Her clothes were torn and she had no shoes.
But her eyes, locked on something outside, were clear and sharp.
Eve came to the conclusion the woman was a traveller rather than a homeless person. Besides which there were no homeless in Morganville.
"Hi there, what can I get for you?"
The woman didn't look up at Eve when she answered, "Coffee, thanks. Black, strong. No sugar."
Writing it down briskly Eve said, "Coming right up." And went behind the counter.
She gave off a dark vibe but Eve kind of liked that. While making the order Eve took time to study the woman. No doubt she was gorgeous. Long, wavy, lustrous black hair. She was very pale. Not just in a no tan kind of way, she was almost translucent and glowed with an inner light. Her lovely face had seen violence, a wicked scar cut deeply into her right eye.
Eve finished up and brought her the coffee, lingering a moment while the woman took a sip.
She closed her eyes in appreciation.
"It's really good..."
Realising how weird it was to staring at her, Eve went behind the counter again.
She noticed Oliver looking over at the stranger. He didn't seem particularly interested in her so Eve figured she was right in serving her.
Brandon came in at his usual time to hunt for snacks. Eve bit her lip. God, how she hated him.
Brandon took note of the stranger, too. He seemingly liked what he saw and sat at the table closest to her.
The woman took something out of her napsack and put it in her mouth. She sucked on it like candy. She finished up her coffee and paid Eve.
"$4.50 please."
Elegant fingers handed her a $5 bill.
"Keep the change," The lady said.
Eve caught a glimpse of whatever she was chewing on and wished she hadn't.
It was a razor blade!
What kind of person sucks on a razor blade, for the hell of it?
Nobody sane, surely. But the woman seemed completely together.
This is what unsettled Eve more than anything.
"What brings you to Morganville?" Eve asked conversationally hoping to discover why she was here and if she would be heading out REAL soon.
"I'm looking for someone."
The woman left it at that and went. Brandon didn't follow but watched her leave.
Eve sighed in relief.
Oliver came over to her. "What's the matter?"
"Oh, nothing. Just that customer was really... Strange."
Oliver laughed, "You mean in comparison to you?"
Eve frowned at his dismissive teasing.
"She was sucking on a razor blade like it was chocolate," She muttered quietly to him.
His eyes widened.
"How do you know this?"
"I saw her, you don't think that's the least bit strange?"
Oliver shrugged. "Each to their own, I guess."
Eve could tell he was a little creeped out. They left it at that and went back to work.

The coffee was nice and woke Twiller up. It was worth the last of her cash. She followed scents and psychic impressions around the town. Though there was not much to go by, Twiller was certain Chloe Knowles had, at the very least, past by here.
She was so focused on a lead in the older part of town she hardly registered she had stepped on a broken bottle.
She sensed eyes on her and turned around.
A young man stood a few feet away. He had an old black cowboy hat and leather jacket on. He grimly pointed to at Twiller's foot.
Warm blood was pooling around the wound. She hobbled over to a bench, trying not to push the glass further in. With steady fingers she pulled the sizable chucks out, blood flowed more freely, so Twiller ripped her sweater and bound her foot tightly. She was mildly pissed off she hadn't noticed it sooner.
It didn't hurt enough, she clamped on harder on the razor. Blood trickled out of her mouth.
Her back and eye were really annoying the crap out of her.
Dull pulsing ache after dull ache. Curse you, Talen...
"Looks nasty."
Twiller looked up. The young man she'd momentarily forgotten about was standing beside her. He was focused on her mouth were more blood dribbled from.
Twiller answered, "A lot of things on me look nasty, you'll have to be more specific."
The mans eye color changed, undetectably to a human, growing ever so slightly lighter.
"What's your name?" He asked.
Well, hell. If he wants a damn conversation I better take this out, Twiller thought before sliding out her long red tongue and picking the razor blade off it. The mans eyes widened in shock.
"Twiller, what's yours?"
She was licking the last of the blood off her lips when he replied, "Brandon."
"Hi, Brandon. What can I do for you?" Twiller's voice dipped seductively.
He couldnt say anything and just stared, memorized.
"I knew a Brandon once, he was an asshole. You won't be though, will you?" Twiller stood up from the bench.
"No ma'am," Brandon whispered. "I... I have to get going."
Twiller folded her arms around him dangerously.
"Really? Too bad. Here's something to remember me by."
Placing the razor back on her tongue she kissed Brandon passionately, transferring it to his mouth. She was careful not to cut him. After their exchange Twiller kissed his lips softly then left him paralysed and dumbfounded.
Mind strait back to the matter at hand Twiller thought she would have to travel outside of town to find who she looking for. Or perhaps, UNDER it.

4 Weeks earlier
Chloe ran and ran. Tears streamed down her face. She thought she saw a light up ahead. She'd imagined plenty of those before and they'd come to nothing. She really, REALLY  hoped it wasn't a mirage this time.
Suddenly she tripped over something.
She landed hard but scrambled to her feet to see what she had fallen over. A cloaked person huddled over a spilled basket. Chloe screamed at the top of her lungs, a scream she'd been holding in for hours.
The person screamed back, cowering. "Please don't hurt me!" They said.
It took Chloe a moment to take in that the figure was small and frail, a girl. Chloe did what she had never thought she could ever do again.
She laughed.
Quietly at first then harder and harder until she sobbed and choked. The girl got to her feet, carrying the wicker basket protectively. Chloe saw herbs and flowers in it.
"Are you okay?" The girl uttered unsure, but no longer afraid. She saw Chloe's puffy red eyes from all the crying. She huddled closer. "Did they get your family too?
Chloe backed away.
"It's okay! I know someone who can help."
The urchins face was marked with dirt and she smelt like she hadn't bathed in weeks, her eyes though, those were wide and innocent. Trusting. Chloe felt defeated and wanted to give up so badly.
She meekly let the little girl take her hand and lead her further into the dark.

present
Twiller asked no questions but received plenty of answers. She wasn't being monitored after her fun with Brandon, like she had half expected. Not that it mattered, she could have easily lost any pursuers.
Morganville is fairly old and Twiller was confident it would have a underground sewer system, and by the looks of the newer Waste Treatment Plant it was no longer in use.
The perfect place to hide a bunch of people, perhaps even a cult?
Twiller airily walked past trespassers and warning signs to the tunnel where waste once flowed out onto the Texas Prairie. The heavy iron grate that blocked access had been tampered with. Casually, Twiller tore it open.
A loud bang resonated down the dank tunnel, but nothing stirred.
It didn't take her long to find a group of dirty humans living in a far intersection. They were asleep since it was noon and Twiller assumed right they were active at night, like the monsters they hid from. She tiptoed over sleeping bodies, peering at each face.
One of the tunnel dwellers rolled over moaning and spotted Twiller.
He shrieked, "Master! Master!"
In seconds the other dwellers had run to the edges of tunnel, petrified.
Damn, I haven't found Chloe yet.
A sinewy bald man rose theatrically from a bed with two naked women at his sides.
"Who dares disturb Grandmaster Jebediah's slumber?"
Oh, yeah. Definitely a cult.
His followers gained confidence, grabbing clubs and rocks ready to pelt them at Twiller. She looked boredly at the older man calling himself Grandmaster. He hadn't seen a toothbrush in his whole life if his breath was anything to go by.
He pointed a ridiculously looking sceptre at Twiller. The crowd jeered, expecting her to back away in pure terror.
These idiots are brainwashed so hard, Twiller thought, rolling her eyes.
"Chloe Knowles!" She called to group ignoring the cult leaders threats, "I know you're here. Your parents sent me to take you home." Surveying the group carefully Twiller saw a messy blonde head at the back. "You remember me right?"
"My parents are dead!" Chloe called out.
Twiller snorted,"Oh, yeah? I wonder who told you that..."
She turned her gaze to the cult leader as he was trying to slip away unnoticed. Twiller lurched forward and held him by his scrawny neck. His followers cried out in shock
"Master! Help the Master!" A woman screeched.
"He's the only one who can protect us from the vampires!" Called out another.
Twiller swung him roughly around, "The only thing he is, is a liar." She cut him with her nail, "See? He bleeds red like the rest of us. Bet he told you he didn't, huh?"
Twiller easily pulled the information from their minds. Gasps and murmuring came from the crowd.
Twiller whispered evilly into his ear, "Tell Chloe to come with me, or I'll show everyone just how much you can bleed." She tightened her grip on his throat to show she wasn't bluffing.
"Ch...Chloe, it is time you went home. A miracle has arrived to take you!" He croaked out.
Chloe stepped forward. "Are you sure, Master?"
"Yes, my child. Blessed are you who has been giving the second chance!"
Chloe came to stand by Twiller. Twiller tossed the Master away like trash. His followers swarmed around him.
"Good bye, Mary!" Chloe called as Twiller dragged her away. A little girl waved goodbye.
Exiting the sewers the Twiller had come, Chloe shielded her eyes against the suns rays. She hadn't seen daylight in just over a month.
Twiller was concerned how heavily Chloe was indoctrinated into the cults beliefs.
"Come on, we need to get you cleaned up."
The rags Chloe had on were too skimpy to be worn in public so Twiller covered her with a blanket. The women left the condemned place and headed into town.
Twiller took her to a motel. The clerk curled his lip in distaste at sight of them.
"How much?" Twiller asked gruffly.
"$150," the clerk answered sneakily.
"Per night?" Came Twiller's tight reply.
"Per person, twin share."
Grinding her teeth in anger Twiller slapped three $100 bills. The clerk made a point of counting it out. Just before Twiller was about to lose it he pointed to his left.
"Take a sharp left, then take a right and your number is 14." Twiller snatched the keys off him. "Have a nice stay."
He smiled at them with false pleasantry.
Twiller fought the desire to kill him in his sleep.
The room at least was decent.
Twiller ordered Chloe into the shower, all cheap linoleum and tacky seashell design. She could hear the quiet sobbing over the shower running, through the flimsy walls.
After, Twiller fed her a sandwich from the vending machine in the hall. She wolfed it down like she'd hadn't eating days. Quite possibly she hadn't.
Putting on the motel supplied pajamas, Chloe crawled into one single beds.
"I have business to sort out. In the meantime DON'T go anywhere, I'll know if you do," Twiller said.
Chloe inclined her her tiredly, rolled over and fell into a deep sleep.
Shutting the door soundlessly, Twiller headed out.

Brandon sat on a bench, not really thinking about anything. He needed the down time. Oliver was riding his ass hard about the new Danvers girl.
Warm, pale arms embraced him from behind.
"Hello, Brandon."
He pushed Twiller onto the ground, kneeling over her menacingly.
"Oh, you like being on top of me, Brandon?" Twiller's thigh snaked up Brandon's back. "Something tells me you like being on the bottom so much more."
Brandon's eyes flickered to white and he snarled, "What do you want?!"
Twiller's laughed and stole a kiss. Brandon pulled back like she had expected him to. She pushed him off and got up.
"I have something you may be interested in."
Brendan patted down his jacket, intrigued. "What?"
"Some Unprotected little humans living where they shouldn't. They're filthy wretches but I'm sure their blood will taste the same. No one will miss them, no one knows they're there."
Brandon thought for a moment "In exchange what do you get?"
"I keep one and get it out of town, you won't see either of us again."
So she wanted to allow an Unprotected stowaway to leave Morganville?
"And what's stopping me from telling the others?"
Twiller slid up to him, eyes narrowed. "Who thinks he's a clever boy? You do that and I will tell Amelie about the Millengrad students."
Brendan scoffed but worry prickled in his gut. "You can't prove anything, least of all that I was involved!"
Twiller hugged him close, murmuring in his is ear, "Oh, but I can Brandon. I can."
He believed her. "Fine! I'll make sure we'll turn a blind eye to your stowaway."
Twiller uncoiled herself from him and Brandon oddly missed her soft, warm body pressed against his.
"Good boy." She started to glide away when she turned around and asked, "Do you still have that little momento from when we first met?" Brandon avoided eye contact. "I thought so."
I bet he put it in a red velvet box too, Twiller giggled to herself.

Chloe was up when Twiller returned, tossing shoes at Chloe's feet. "Put these on, we're leaving."
But she didn't. She glared hard at Twiller.
"I know what you did." She ground out. When no reply came Chloe screamed, "I KNOW WHAT YOU DID!!"
Twiller slapped her hard across the cheek. This stunned Chloe into silence.
"Sometimes you have to be a bitch in order to survive in this world. I get you believe they gave you shelter, but he also raped you, yes?"
Chloe shriveled into both a little girl and an ancient crone.
"Hurry up. You can tell it all to a psychiatrist when you get home. For now, I don't care."
Chloe set numbly on the floor, no longer crying. Ignoring her, Twiller pulled out her belongings from her bag, counting her emergency money. $200 left. Could have been worse.
"I'll wait outside."
Just before she left Chloe muttered, "I wish you hadn't warned me."
Twiller pretended not to hear, slamming the door shut.

Chloe didn't talk the whole two days of walking back to Millengrad. Twiller didn't bother to try to initiate a conversation. She was angry that Chloe had a meltdown.
I'm younger than her and have been through worse. I'm still coping! (A blatant lie, I can assure you).
She wasn't entirely stone hearted though, piggybacking Chloe when she couldn't walk anymore.
There was no pomp and ceremony when they arrived, no media circus. It would probably change when people found out Chloe Knowles had mysteriously reappeared, by herself.
That wasn't Twiller's problem.
Chloe pointed to a humble homestead and Twiller carried her there.
It wasn't the sort of place Twiller was expecting. It was neat and tidy, but far from anything expensive and flashy.
An older woman answered the door. Immediately she started to cry when she saw Chloe.
"My baby!"
Chloe hopped down and ran into her mother's arms, unsteadily. Her father came out, looking older than Chloe remembered.
"Daddy!" She cried on his shoulder when he held her tight.
Chloe was not okay, nor would she probably ever be again, but hope lied in her strong family base and community.
Twiller slunk away unnoticed, cursing her soft heartedness. She just couldn't take their money.
She would circumvent Morganville altogether and carry on  where ever the road led her to next.
She still didn't have a pair of shoes.

The end for now...