Magicians Of Night
Cleve licked dry lips, yellow eyes
nothing in sight, no blood scent for miles and miles.
Felicia drove down deserted Providence streets. He caught her gaze in the rear view
mirror. He realized he'd become pale, looked older than a few hours ago. He needed
Her eyes were dull, evident cracks had formed around her lips. However, she could survive
for days. Youth had its gifts.
As their species aged they retained strength. But the need to feed increased. Cleve had
roamed the earth for five hundred years. Each night the hunger had to be satiated; for him
it had become imperative.
She broke the silence. "The city's deserted. We'll have to rely on what's in storage
at the warehouse."
"That's fine." He rubbed his thumb across the handle of his cane. "Drop me
off at the corner, park the limo and then join me." He sighed, raspy, hollow.
"Maybe we'll be luckier over the weekend. There are more of them around on Friday and
He sighed again. "I so badly wanted to find the one we spotted earlier."
Visions formed in his mind-- a girl with soft auburn curls, ivory skin, lips that
curved delicately. In darkness she knelt, removed her shirt, tossed her head as the
men ran their hands roughly over her body. Breasts swayed as she opened herself up,
whispered to them, as wind hissed within the trees. A shadowy silhouette, satisfying the
sexual appetites of two Latin lovers.
He thought of how he would take her--how she'd plead for mercy as he bit into young skin,
tore out her eyes.
Cleve slammed the limo door. He turned off Westminster Street into an unnamed alley. Wind
caught the edge of his long black coat, lifted it so that it resembled dark wings whipping
madly at his back. He tapped his cane on pavement as he walked--slowly--ominous--like
death. Rats scurried before him, gusts tossed ripped leaflets and old newspaper against
He stopped suddenly, gazed up at the sky, placed hands on hips and took a deep
breath--inhaling the night--the darkness. He reached into his pocket for a cigarette,
placed it between his teeth. Raising his cane to its tip, within seconds the cigarette
glowed red, smoke curled upward.
He opened the door to a service entrance--once a lucrative restaurant. How many years ago?
He asked himself--ten, twenty, fifty?
The pungent odors of blood, fear and death greeted him as he ventured deeper into the
deserted building. Walking into what was once the main dining room, he stopped for a
moment, removed a candle from a table, and lit it with his cigarette. Holding it up,
moving it slowly in front of him, he saw them. The living huddled together, chains from
their feet and wrists tangled. Their eyes black, puffy, from crying and lack of sleep.
Their arms and legs bruised from his touch.
The dead gazed at him with lifeless stares, some headless, others shredded beyond
recognition-- the carnage, so many bones--so many years.
He walked towards a slender girl, unlocked her chains, dragged her to the center of the
dining room. Slowly he moved his fingers over her shoulders. She whimpered, shivered
He kissed her deep, rough, taking breath away. Releasing her, he ran his hands over her
chest, stomach, thighs.
" she said through parched lips.
His laughed echoed throughout the abandoned building.
He kissed her again, biting her lips, tearing them, leaving bloody gaping hole in her
She screamed. The others answered her in macabre chorus.
His cane passed across her cheek. Skin peeled away in crimson strings. Rubbing it over his
own face, his flesh became smoother, some lines disappeared, his eyes twinkled with a soft
"Are you through with her, or should I select another all for myself?" Felicia's
voice rang like ghostlike chimes in the heat, dark--in this place of terror.
"Join me," he patted the floor, "we'll finish this one off together."
The girl's body shook, trembled as he slid the cane over breasts.
Felicia sprung to his side, parted the girl's legs and began to bite away tender tissue.
She raised her head, smiled at Cleve, blood, veins, hair covered her face. He smiled back,
as he plunged the cane inside the woman.
"Why?" Screamed the others in unison.
"Because we are magicians of night. Because your blood--what's inside you," he
shoved the cane deeper, "keeps us alive."
The sounds of air whipping--a multitude of steel blades whirling -- vibrated --as blood
exploded from the girl's vagina-- a rich red waterfall. He and his cohort drank, rubbed
their fingers in dark liquid. They laughed as lines disappeared from
their faces, as new strength spread throughout their bodies. He thought of the girl
with auburn curls.
He awoke with a start.
Her scent permeated the air, crawled through his open window like a seductress.
Still naked, he peered into the street. She stood there, leather skirt hiked up, revealing
firm thighs. Nipples poked through black lace shirt. She gazed at him, lips turning up in
an inviting smile.
They usually didn't wander this far from the south side. But it was late August. The
college crowd had moved back into apartment buildings close to East Side colleges. Often
young men craved company of women who would do more to satisfy their lust than some young
college coed--for a price--her price.
"Need company?" She purred, moved like a delicate cat.
Satiated from the kill earlier that morning, he hesitated for a moment, then thought of
how he could slowly kill her, take her, spend the day watching her suffer, cry as he
When night came again, he'd use her flesh and blood to complete his ritual--satisfy his
Or perhaps he would make the kill more exciting, fill her with fear, taunt her, then set
her free. The thrill of the chase would bring him ultimate satisfaction.
"Go to the lobby, I'll buzz you in."
He didn't bother to dress.
Clutching his cane, he waited, licked his lips as her footsteps sounded outside.
He let her in. She breezed past him, then spun around on stiletto heels. "Do you want
to fuck me straight, or are you into kinky shit?"
He moved closer to her, tapping his cane on hard wood floor. His dark eyes looked deep
into hers. "Oh, I'm into very kinky shit."
He raised the cane. Daggers, spinning, hissing, poked from its hilt.
Fear spread across her face. She reached inside
her shirt, pulled out a dagger. "You some kind of weirdo, Mister? Put that cane down,
He raised it. Air hissed. Her blouse began to tear to shreds, falling like paper.
"What the fuck," she spat. She backed towards the window, kept her gaze on
Cleve. Then like an agile acrobat she leaped to the window, quickly shimmied out, landed
in the street.
"Don't worry, pretty one, I love a good hunt," he whispered, watching her run in
predawn light. Taxi cabs honked their horns, as she disappeared into thick morning mist.
They were lined up on the avenue; delicate
Spanish girls, with glossy black hair; brown-skinned ones dressed in white and red silk;
pale blondes and redheads, with round tits and pear-shaped asses.
"See anything you want?" Felicia smiled wickedly, tongue darting back and forth
like poisonous snake.
"I'm looking for the auburn-haired girl, the one we saw with the two Spanish men in
the park, three nights ago."
"The one we watched from the trees?" She turned her head and looked at him, eyes
swirling with red. "The one who was up in our room early the next morning--that
"Yes, her smell, her energy--it's something I haven't experienced in decades."
"She's a slut--just like all the rest."
"But there's something--" He sniffed the air. "Turn the corner,
Felicia turned onto Broad Street. The smell grew stronger--her smell. Neon lights blazed
up ahead--green, yellow, and red silhouette of a naked woman. Blue letters
"Pull up to the front. Wait here."
I want to
"Stay here," he spat, long dark hair catching on the wind, cane tapping.
"Fuck you, Cleve
just fuck," Felicia hissed, turning off the motor.
She was onstage, dancing, a red leather bikini
seemingly painted on her flesh. Turning gracefully, she pushed the straps of her bra over
her shoulders, taunted the men who whistled, reached out with hungry hands. Slowly she
unhooked the bra. It fell to her feet. Turning, like a graceful doll, she began to slide
the bottom over silken thighs, revealing her most private part--without flinching--eyes
steadfast on her audience, she moved further into stage lights. The tattoo of a spider,
drawn in great detail over her vulvas shaven lips, leered at Cleve with wicked eyes.
It seemed to pulse, move as she continued to sway--continued to entice those who cowered
close to the stage.
He grasped his cane, fighting the impulse to storm onto the stage--to plunge the hilt into
her--into the soul of the spider.
He staggered into the street, feeling his strength waning, looking at Felicia's face
behind the windshield of the limo. Her skin seemed transparent, her eyes without luster.
It was time for a kill.
Yanking the door open he said, " Shes inside, dancing. Theyve announced
it as her last number. There's a stage door in the alley. It's where I grabbed that black
beauty we ravaged several weeks back." He rubbed aching eyes. "I
want her--just her tonight."
"Look, Cleve, I'm starved. I
"Wait," drool dribbled down his chin. "It won't take long."
She slid into the alley. Red leather bag, slung over shoulders, tight, torn jeans hugged
hips. Braless, her breasts bounced up and down as she strutted onto steamy pavement .
Her stepped out of the dark. "No hooking later tonight on the East Side?"
She stopped, lips quivering, looked into his eyes.
He waved his cane in a circle. Her jeans began to tear, to become threads. The black lace
shirt melted. The spider seemed to pulse beneath neon lights.
He was suddenly on top of her, kissing her. Then he moved his cane to her center. Her
scent intoxicated him.
Without resistance, she spread her legs wide. He saw darkness in a seemingly bottomless
The lights, he thought--her smell.
The hole grew wider, the odor stronger, more intoxicating. Her hands wrapped around his
neck, pushing his face into wetness. Spider's legs tickled his cheeks, his lips. He
moaned, trapped within her grasp, her power. She pushed
harder--harder--until he fell into an endless void between her legs.
She panted, naked, slime dripped down her thighs. Headlights shined in the murky alley.
The limo slowed down, door slowly opening. Felicias white face peered at her. A
light rain began to fall, promising to cool the hot summer night. Picking up Cleves
cane, the girl walked slowly toward the car.
She climbed into the passengers seat, eager to cruise the streets, ready to satiate
hunger. Turning to Felicia, she hissed, "Now only we are magicians of night."
© Sandy DeLuca
The fiction and poetry of Sandy DeLuca has
been published in numerous small press publications, including the Divas of Darkness
Anthology, Mindmares, and The Edge~Tales of Suspense. This coming year she will have work
appearing in such places as Space & Time, Welcome to Nod, The Urbanite and Whispers
From the Shattered Forum. Sandy is editor of Goddess of the Bay Publications. She is
currently working on a novel.