Spring Won't Come

Twenty: Alice

Alice sat with her eyes closed, enjoying the aroma that rose from the teacup that she cradled in her lap. She breathed in deeply, relishing the sharp, root beer-like smell that brought her back to days gone by. She had steeped this batch especially for herself, a potent brew that brought her a stimulating and euphoric rush.

Her conversation with the boys had gone even better than she had hoped, especially the one with Blake. He was feeble-minded and his will was weak, his desires were simplistic and uninspiring. He was stronger than Manny, Alice knew, but he lacked that desperate ambition that raged within Manny.

Blake intended to betray her, Alice knew. He thought he could snatch Kayla up and disappear, using the power wherever they went. He was either too stupid or too naive enough to recognize that he was nothing without her.

Keeping her eyes closed, Alice took a sip of her tea and sighed. Her plan, if it could even be called that, was working better than she had hoped, and it was all thanks to Isaiah's curiosity.

The boy was terrified of the dark, Alice had sensed that as soon as he had entered the building. But his tenacity and his inquisitiveness had caused him to push those fears aside.

Isaiah burned with that putrid stench of a human that had aligned itself with the Enemy. It was because of this, that Alice had hidden her presence from him, waiting to see what his intentions were. Then, Alice smiled at the recollection, he had brought Manny to her.

Alice had felt Manny's pain the moment his foot crossed the threshold of her home. He, unlike Isaiah, was untainted by the Enemy. His anger, his pain, his fear, it all made him prime for grooming.

Alice took another sip of her tea. Sassafras tea was her favorite. Not just for the flavor, but for the effects it had, especially on the human mind. Safroil, the key component of the tea, was a wonderful tool from the old world. The psychedelic effects were enough to put a grown man out of his mind. Brewed with care, Alice smiled, and it opened all sorts of doors to the mind. Made you see things not there, made you question reality, made you live in pure fear.

It was the construction of the human brain that was to blame, Alice knew. Humans were like rats that walk on their hind legs. Disgusting and pathetic creatures that were so easily manipulated. All it took was a gentle push one one little part of their brain and they turned into mindless meat sacks.

Alice was well acquainted with the physiology of the human brain. She knew how to leverage her power to attack the frontal cortex and the hippocampus. Combined with the high content of safroil, she could make these children forget, make them confused, and make them question their reality.

If she wanted, Alice opened her eyes to take another long sip, she could make these children lose their minds and go on killing-sprees or make them believe that they needed to eat dirt to survive. She smiled, she had done both before in the past, the killings were always her favorite.

Men, and the children of men; their minds so fragile that they could lose themselves in her darkness. Damaged souls were the easiest, though sometimes they needed some of her help to get here, as had been the case with her two boys.

The parents were even easier, Alice laughed to herself. They were so absorbed by their vices and so disillusioned by misanthropy that they didn't even recognize the whispers Alice put into their heads.

Shadows and whispers, Alice thought. That's all it took for these pathetic creatures to fall into her hands.

She loved inhabiting the shadows, it was the thing that came most natural to her. Most people might not admit it, but they were terrified of the dark. Add something else to that mix and a person's courage turns to putty. Alice laughed, she loved this game.

Alice could still remember the look of terror on Kayla's face when she appeared to the girl as the shadows. Alice commended herself for the voices, that had been a nice touch.

She had decided the route of fear after the incident with Isaiah. Few men, or boys, had been able to resist the allure of promises, they were carnal creatures after all. The promise of power, the taste of her flesh, and they always did as they were told. Except for that preacher's boy.

She hadn't expected to encounter the kind of resistance that Isaiah had offered. His soul was strong and pure, and thus, that's why he had been eliminated. Alice supposed that the fear and surprise in the boy's eyes had been worth it, as had the pain it had caused Manny.

Alice drained the rest of her cup and placed it on the coaster that rested on the table. She delicately wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin, admiring how supple and smooth her skin was after all these years. She closed her eyes and listened to the ticking of the clocks in the living room.

Her mind wandered and she thought of the girl. Kayla was another interesting case. She was just a scared, little girl that wanted someone to save her. She should have been easy to ensnare, a delicious morsel of fear and low self-esteem. The Enemy has seen to it that Alice was deprived of this.

Alice opened her eyes and bore her eyes into the ceiling, seeing past them, past the room. "You think it matters, don't you?" She said to someone, or something, unseen. "Claiming her for yourself does nothing."

Alice sneered, not knowing whether or not her words would be heard. She assumed that Enemy was aware of her, though they had never shown any signs of stopping her, not until Kayla, that is.

We've been at this for a long time, haven't we? Alice thought. How much has changed?

Her war of pain and misery had once been fueled by rage. Like any estranged child, she had sought to destroy all that her father held dear. As the centuries passed, she began to feel a change within herself. She wondered, if perhaps she had spent too much time with humanity?

Malice and sadism were her motivators now. She loathed anything that could be called "good" and sought to bring the exact opposite. She sighed, she had begun to feel like a spoiled child, acting out and making a scene.

Alice went to her room and shut the door behind her. Red handles, dozens of them, illuminated the shelves that lined the walls. Here, she kept the essentials, the part of her that was most human. This included her clothes, trinkets, herbs, and her mirror.

The mirror was an antique Louis Philippe that Alice had acquired from a dying widow. The frame was gold and had an etched leaf and cherubim crest. Alice smiled every time she saw the crest, finding the angelic depiction to be an amusing insult.

Alice admired herself in the mirror, loving the red glow that the candles cast upon her. She had inhabited this body for several centuries now, and it had never gone out of style, she mused.

Her hair was thick and shone like black silk, soft to the touch and smelled of sweet berries. Her alluring eyes were clear and piercing, changing color in the light. Her delicate skin glowed with a youthful vigor, welcoming a caress. Other parts of her were more firm, Alice grinned. All of it creating a woman that no one could resist.

Alice twirled her dressed and laughed. It had been so long since she had enjoyed herself, though she knew the time was coming to an end. She went to her bed and pulled the suitcase out from under it.

Tonight would be her last night in this place, Alice thought. It was time to move on. Tonight, she would be leaving with her newest toy, Manny or Blake. And while she hoped it would be Manny, she supposed either would do.

She began to stuff the suitcase with clothes and a few other oddities. After this, all that would be left to do would be to wait.