Bleeding Heart

When her shift was over, she made sure that Mrs. Pallor was watching as she bid Ben ’farewell, until tomorrow.”

As she walked to her car, she noticed Old Harry carrying tools back to the shed, Kert was behind him and the two men briefly spoke before going into the shed. Suzanne scurried up to the shed and sidled the wall nearest the door. Their voices seemed to be trailing away. She peeked in and saw no was there, so she followed what was left of their voices. She found herself in a shadowy, musty hallway, lit by dripping candle sconces. The walls were of the same stone as the mausoleum but there was no sign of Kert or Harry. She decided to continue walking the corridor which made three right turns before becoming a steep incline which finally came to an end and a door.

Suzanne listened at the door and could hear voices but they were not Kert and Harry’s; they were Ben’s and a woman’s voices. Eager to hear what was being said, she pressed herself against the door, but it gave way. She stumbled in to see a blonde woman in a fitted business suit, adjusting her stockings and slipping into a pair of pointy stilettos. There was a massive bed against the facing wall, where Ben was reclining, wearing a claret colored silk robe.

“Come in Suzanne, I’ve been expecting you.”

“Alright then, Ben; I’ll check back with you in the morning.”

“Yes, Francesca, bright and early.”

Suzanne looked at her, still a bit off balance, while Dr. Francesca Le Fleur returned a smirk and slicked her lips.

Ben patted the bed, inviting Suzanne to join him. Her steps faltered as she looked around the room. The walls were alternately painted black and wall papered with a mauve colored fabric with a Fleur-de-lis pattern. The bed had a gold lame bedspread. The windows were covered with, weighty, aubergine drapes. And Ben was wearing nothing but his robe.

Suzanne dropped her purse and jacket and went to Ben. She did her best strip tease and cat-walk as she went to Ben. When she reached the bed, she put a knee on the bed when Ben grabbed her by the hair and threw her down, sinking his fangs into her neck. She gasped and felt herself losing consciousness.

Ben repeated over and over, “da-te la mine (give yourself to me.)

When she awoke, she found herself in another bedroom of the house, wearing a black, silk robe. She put her hand on her throbbing neck and felt two deep puncture wounds. It was coming back to her; she and Ben had knocked out some crazy sex. She felt between her legs, it was dry. She jumped out of bed and disrobed in front of a full length mirror; clean as a lab rat.

The sound of footsteps outside the door fixed her attention. She ran to the door and cracked it open. It was Mrs. Pallor, she was wearing rubber gloves and carrying a bucket with the hose from a douche bag hanging out of it. Mrs. Pallor went into her bedroom and shut the door.

Suzanne wanted to go to Ben, to go at it again but she felt herself transfixed, unable to go beyond the door. She repeated the words Ben growled into her ear, “da-te la mine” and returned to the bed. She gave in to a profound, drug-like sleep.

Mrs. Pallor had gone into Ben’s room to clean up the blood fest. Ben was lying naked on the bed, dabbing his fingers into the blood left by Suzanne on his bed and licking his fingers.

“God, that was good! Nothing like the sweet blood of an eager, horny young wench.

Mrs. Pallor went about stripping the sheets, pulling them to get him to move.

“I see you enjoyed yourself, Maestru. Would you prefer I take her home or would you rather I dump her in a ditch?”

Ben howled with amusement. “Such spite, Mrs. Pallor! Do neither, Petra, Suzanne is staying. She is mine. Ready a room for her.”