"Sickle Skies"

[Rebecca Clare Smith]

I'm not quite sure what exactly will come of this so we shall see. Hopefully it won't be too bad.


WARNING: May contain some adult references and occasional swearing.

[Rebecca Clare Smith]

Julian backed up against the table. The oil light cast his face into sharp relief beneath his grey trilby. The gun smoked in his hand. It was raining outside and the lightning seemed to scream across the sky like a thousand angry sirens. He heaved in a shuddered breath and still pressed back against the table. His hand was outstretched, the gun still pointing to the other side of the room where the other man stood. The bullet had left a cracked hole in the peeling wall, just over the man's shoulder. The room was musky, cluttered and small. It looked like a disorganised office. Dark tables and chairs were littering the enclosed space. "I told you not to come any closer, Morris," Julian said. His pulse was beating heavily in his wrist and throat as he surveyed the man before him. "I told you that you shouldn't follow me."

"Put the gun down, Julian. Don't make this any harder on yourself-"

Morris was cut off by a cold sneer from Julian's lips. His mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. "You don't seem to understand, Morris. I'm not coming with you. I'm innocent."

"I saw you kill a man-!"

"It was self-defence." Julian cocked the gun again to show that he was ready to send another shot Morris's way. He edged backwards around the table towards the open window. Morris's slit-like eyes followed him. He kept his hands in full view, ready to grab his weapon the moment that Julian looked away; but Julian didn't look away. Julian was not going to be taken in. "If you follow me I'll shoot you, Morris. I'm not going to be framed for this."

"You should confess-"

"I would never murder her!" Julian grated through gritted teeth. "I don't expect you to understand, but if you follow me I'll kill you. Wait for the cops to arrive. Tell them you had nothing to do with it. But whatever you do, don't follow me. I can't protect you any more, Morris." Julian slipped out of the window and swept off into the darkness like a shadow of the night.

Morris ran to the open window. He gripped the ledge, his knuckles going white as he peered out after his friend. It was smoky and dark. The city was clogged with smog. He couldn't see Julian any more. "Protect me from what?! Julian? Julian?! I don't understand!" How was he supposed to help him? The door shuddered and the cops barged in. Morris turned to look at them with wild eyes. He shook his head at the sergeant who stalled in his footsteps, his men close behind. "You're too late," Morris said, watching out of the window once more. Why had Julian run off into the gloom? And why had he killed?

[Rebecca Clare Smith]

"There are vampires here, Julian. I'm telling you! Why won't you listen to me?" She was gripping his arm. Her eyes looked up into his. They were beautiful eyes, blue and as round as saucers. Her pale face was illuminated in the moonlight. "Why don't you believe me?!"

Julian tried to pull away, leaning back from her. "Regina, you're delusional. Just calm down and-"

"No! No I will not calm down!" she cried out, clinging to him, hooking her arms around his neck. "Julian, don't you understand?! Don't you understand?! They're going to come for me! They're going to kill me!"

Julian brusquely pushed her arms away and held her hands down to her sides. He looked down into her eyes as they stood at the top op the spiral staircase. The staircase led down from the balcony that overlooked the main entrance hall. "You're being hysterical, Regina. There's no such thing as vampires." He couldn't help the tone of anger in his voice as he said it. "Have you taken your pills tonight?"

"I don't need them. I'm telling you the truth! Why won't you believe me? Why won't you?"

"Because you're a raving lunatic! Take your damn tablets, Regina!"

Julian looked out across the foggy waters from his stance on the rickety pier. He took a last drag on his cigarette before flicking it off into the thick swirling waters below. Did he believe her, now, after tonight? He wasn't sure... He wasn't sure of anything any more. The physicians had said she needed her tablets. They'd said that they were delusions. They'd said so many things and everybody had agreed. Everybody had nodded and fed her the pills hoping that she would get better, but she hadn't. The pills just kept her sedated. The pills just stopped her from raving. Julian stuffed his hands in his pockets and headed back towards the murky docks, his shoes clunky on the creaking wood of the ancient pier. Had they been wrong all along? If only he could ask Regina...

But she was dead. And all of the evidence pointed to him.

[Rebecca Clare Smith]

Morris exhaled deeply and slumped back into his chair beneath the sickly yellow light of the interrogation room. Smoke drifted up into the air from the stubby tip of the cigarette that the sergeant opposite him was holding. "So other than Mr Harris-"

"PI Harris," Morris corrected tiredly. It was an automatic response triggered by the knowledge that if Julian was in the room he would have disapproved greatly, flashed his badge and proudly announced that he was hardly a real civilian. Morris watched his fingertips as they traced small patterns in the rough wood of the tabletop, yet, he didn't see that; he saw the horrible mess at the foot of the twisting staircase that led up to the higher rooms.

"So other than PI Harris, you were the first one on the scene?"

"Yes," Morris sighed. He'd answered this question a hundred times or more in the past hour. What else could they want from him?

The blood was splattered across the entrance hall. He frowned, his gut clenching. His hand slid into his pocket and found the revolver there. It felt heavier than it ever had before and the hand that held it shook as he stepped over the sprays of blood to reach the stairs. The same crimson liquid covered the steps as though something or somebody had been dragged up the stairs...

He took one step, fear growing in the pit of his belly. One hand was on the rail to hold him steady. The other hand was clenched, white-knuckled, around the revolver. He grit his teeth. The dense growth of curly hair beneath his trilby suddenly seemed thicker than it had ever been. His scalp prickled with heat and sweat. He could feel his breath tightening in his chest as he drew nearer to the balcony. He stopped for a moment, his eyes following the trail of blood with a sickening twist in his stomach. It was as if he had known that it would lead to that door...

The door that was usually closed but now lay open...

"Why did you enter the property?"

"I told you, already! I live there!" Morris exclaimed in agitation. "I've answered all of your questions at least ten times. Just bloody release me so I can grieve!"

"You don't seem to be grieving to me, Mr Helian. In fact, I'd say that your behaviour is extremely suspicious."

He pushed the door a little wider with a nudge of his elbow, the gun trembling in his hands. He blinked in rapid succession. Julian was there, standing over Regina's body. She would have looked asleep if her eyes had not been glazed over in a dead fright. Morris's hands shook as they held the gun, but he couldn't move from where he was stood. He couldn't speak or make a sound. Julian wasn't looking at him. But what was he doing there? Why was he...?

Julian leaned over a little further and stroked his hand around the cold white cheek of Regina's face as though it was a loving caress. His hands were covered in blood. He moved closer and kissed the slain woman's forehead, smoothing the voluptuous duvet down so that her face could be more easily seen. Morris's brows moved closer together, his lips further apart, as he tried to comprehend just what he was seeing. This couldn't be... Julian closed his eyes and moved his lips down, down until they reached the cold dead lips of the girl where he placed a lingering kiss.

"What... What are you... doing?"

Julian turned on his heel, his eyes wide as he registered the presence of the other man, his partner. His eyes fell on the shaking gun in Morris's hands. "She was... She was dead when... when I got here... and I just..."

"You're covered in blood." Morris shook his head slightly in turmoil. His face was etched with distress in every contour. "You're covered in blood," he repeated. Had... Had Julian dragged her up the stairs? Had Julian...? "You bastard! What have you done to her?!"

"You can't think I... Morris... I didn't. I found her like this. I just covered her up-"

"Don't you touch her! Don't you touch her!"

Morris looked at the sergeant aghast. "Are you saying that I murdered my own sister?!"

"We're saying that it's suspicious. You say that you found Mr Harris standing over her body, but you still helped him to escape. How do you explain that, Mr Helian?"

Morris didn't bother to correct him this time. He just stared at the table. "I..." He floundered, pondering what it was that he wanted to say. "He wouldn't do that..."

"You know that she had no clothes on when we found her?" Morris looked up in surprise. The sergeant nodded. "I'm afraid, we believe that she may have been sexually assaulted."