The bell tower chimes ten, two hours to midnight. Danis looks up from the children's playpen, a smile of anticipation showing on her lips. Time to get moving. Humans tend to be superstitious, especially this time of the year and when it comes to the midnight hour. Tonight is All Hallows' eve, the night where according to some old religion or other the barrier between the worlds of the living and the dead is supposed to be thin.
It took Danis a while to understand the absurd customs that go with this occasion. But soon she discovered immense potential in this special night. She shrugs her malformed body into a padded jacket and pulls her long, dark cloak over it. The rubber half-mask is just the final touch, covering her wrinkled face nicely while allowing her to see, breath, speak, and eat. But feeding is not on her agenda tonight.
Danis walks down the alley and mingles with the people on the central plaza. No need to hide or desperately try to blend in for once, there are far worse sights than her on the streets. To the contrary, this is the only time of the year she is just one hideous apparition amongst others, another artfully created interpretation of a vampire out on the so-called hunt.
Only, for her, this is not a game. She picks her victims carefully, not prone to the same mistake her own mother made. But mother was dying, according to her notes, with no time to care about human beauty standards when she chose for her daughter. Danis doesn't complain. As long as she owns her ancestors precious records and instructions, she can live with the body she was given and carry on with her important task.
A young male, strongly built, with curly hair and an easy smile is her first choice. He follows her willingly, accepts her flirting and laughs as she presses a pair of blood red lips into the crook of his neck. Her retractable teeth are sharp, tiny hollow needles. The victim hardly feels their sting.
At sunrise, Danis returns to her den. If she counted right, she got seventeen in this single night. This is more than she managed to do in the last half year. Seventeen eggs injected into human bodies, where the embryos will nestle into the host's brain, living of protein and minuscule electric waves for years. As soon as the host dies–of one or another form of dementia–the youngling will hatch and grow up into a believable facsimile of the host.
At five years, her first offspring is nearly old enough to start hunting. Danis still marvels at her mother's feat to bring her failing interstellar ship to the one planet with the means to rebuild her dying race.
YOU ARE READING
Tevun-Krus #34 - GothPunk
Science Fiction'Tis the season to be... No, not that one. It's (almost) October 31st so that can only mean one thing: Halloween, Tevun-Krus style!