Lucy Dies

yes, I killed the main character in the third chapter.

When a dark cloud floated over the sun Lucy and the vampire hurried from their hiding spot toward his truck, which was parked just a few yards away. When they were safe inside he started it and Lucy unfolded the passenger side vanity mirror to check to see if she still had a reflection. She marveled at the change when she discovered that she did. She now had tapered ears, a bloodless, white complexion, long white fangs and perhaps most shockingly, blood red eyes. 

When he noticed her looking the vampire broke the stoic silence, his mood greatly improved by the feeding. “They’re quite striking.” He said.

She looked at him. 

“Your eyes. Most full-bloods are from Eastern Europe, that’s where the disease originates from, so when they turn their eyes go yellow or white. Some half-blood’s eyes don’t even change, so red is pretty rare.” He explained. 

Lucy was still absorbing very little, so she made no reply. After a moment of silence she redid her signature low on the neck ponytail so it covered the tips of her ears, brushed the dirt out of her hair and pulled her jacket, which had been crumpled up in the bottom of her backpack all week, on over her wings. 

“I’m Vincent, by the way.” He added, clearing his throat. 

“Vincent?”

“Vincent Fry.” He nodded. 

Lucy smiled to herself. “I’m Lucy.”

“Well, Lucy, we’ve got a full day ahead of us. First, we have to kill you, and we’re gonna’ need a corpse.” Vincent said cheerfully. 

The car made a hard left. Lucy knew this road, Silent Creek, they were heading toward the graveyard. 

By the time they reached the cemetery the lifesaving cloud-cover had turned into storm clouds which promised rain, so, mercifully, there were no mourners. Near the back of the graveyard they began searching the newest, shiniest marble headstones. Fortunately, they quickly found a thirteen year old girl who had died a week and a half ago. Ramona Hover. Pressed for time, they dug without stopping. Lucy wasn’t much help, but Vincent was strong and they got to the bottom in a half hour. He used the tip of his shovel to pry the coffin open and Lucy flinched as he pulled the girl out of her grave. 

Again, in theory nothing about this scared Lucy. She had seen so many rubber corpses mangled and carved up, this one was in pristine condition, she looked like she was sleeping, but there was something revolting about the way she hung there in his hands. 

Lucy swallowed. “She looks so. . . Fresh.”

“She ought to be, she’s closer to being alive than I am.” He grinned, holding Ramona up next to Lucy. “You’re like sisters.”

Lucy shuddered. “Let’s just go.”

He threw the shovels and the corpse out of the hole and climbed out after them. He lifted Lucy out next and together they pushed the dirt back into the pit and went back to the car. 

Vincent tossed Ramona unceremoniously into the car and Lucy held her breath as she stepped in. 

“So there’s a groundskeeper’s shed on the grounds right?”

Lucy nodded, “In the south corner.”

“Okay, go get something out of it, something small, tell them someone left it in the yard and offer to go put it back. I’ll meet you in the shed.”

“Okay.” The car stopped down the road from the orphanage and Lucy looked out the window at the place where she grew up. 

Vincent cleared his throat. “You okay?”

Lucy just nodded, opened the door and walked to the orphanage. She followed Vincent’s instructions, getting a trowel and approaching Sister Josephine, who stood in the doorway of the mess hall like usual. 

“Where have you been, Lucy??” The nun demanded, standing over her and looking down disapprovingly. Lucy was frequently late for dinner, since the library closed at five on Tuesdays and Thursdays and she always walked home slowly.

“I was at the library.” Lucy fibbed, she stared down at the blurry floor-tiles, red eyes covered by her now obsolete glasses. 

“Well, run along now. You’ve only got twenty minutes to eat now.”

Lucy held up the trowel, still not making eye-contact. “I found this in the garden, can I go put it back?”

Sister Josephine sighed, “Fine. Go, hurry.”

Lucy turned and ran to the shed. Vincent was waiting inside as promised, in the darkness his eyes glowed strongly and Lucy’s new night vision kicked in. He handed her a piece of cloth. 

“What’s this?” Lucy asked, looking at the indistinct bundle of gray cloth in her hand. 

“Ramona’s dress. You have to switch clothes.”

Of course. Lucy took the dress. Vincent turned respectfully and began to fiddle with the lawn mower’s engine. Lucy faced the door, undressing quickly, although she was shaking. The dead girl’s dress almost fit, except for the wings. Lucy held it against herself, turning back toward Vincent. 

“Uhhhhm. . .”

He looked at her. “Oh,” He said, turning and tearing two holes in the dress on either side of the zipper, pulling her wings through them and zipping the dress closed. 

“Thank you.” Lucy said, getting to her knees to dress the corpse in her old clothes. It’s just like dressing a snowman, she thought to herself as she put her glasses on the dead girl. A limp, me-shaped snowman. 

As Lucy was slipping socks onto Ramona’s cold, pale feet Vincent made a spark under the lawn mower’s hood and pushed a metal shelf of fertilizer on top of the corpse. Lucy froze for a moment, then quickly crammed the girl’s feet into her old shoes and stood up. Vincent helped her over the shelf and together they kicked a hole in the wall big enough to crawl through and fled the scene. 

Lucy watched the smoke rise in the rearview mirror as they drove away from the orphanage.