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July 15, 2024

The Building 23

By Lydia Manx

As Tricia kept time to the music with her hand in her lap, Jerry Cooper tried to work out how he was going to get her to go see Celina. It was after midnight, closer to two a.m. than one and he imagined that she was done with her job at the news station. The last newscast usually was eleven or eleven-thirty, and he couldn't see normal humans staying there until dawn given the normal work ethic of humanity. Gone were the people who worked twelve and fourteen hour days without a word of complaint or threats of lawsuits. The humans had become pampered and soft. The fight had gone out of so many of the prey that it was hard to enjoy a good meal.

Tricia Sanborn had been tasty but she was starting to challenge him and was starting to push back mentally. If it had been three years ago up in Michigan he would have simply handed her off to one of his minion and begun the transformation into a vampire fledgling or let them slay her. How she'd been acting for the past hour pushed Jerry to think that he would have preferred her slain, because she wasn't up to his standards. She was far too modern for his fangs.

The CD in the car stereo hit a new track and for a blessed few seconds there was silence. Then he heard Tricia moaning softly as her fingers flew over her body. She let out a sigh and put her hand back on the wheel after adjusting her skirt a bit.

Laughing she said, "Hey imaginary lover, you know what one of the most commonly found items are at single car accidents involving women?"

He didn't bother replying since she was still under the mental command that he was just a part of her fantasy and basically she thought she was talking to herself. Not to mention she thought she was alone -- hence the foul language and constant masturbation. He definitely would've had her killed. Her kind wasn't worthy of becoming a vampire.

"Yep, the cops find personal massagers on the victims. Fuck knows how they explain that to the family. 'Mrs. Jones, sorry to tell you your daughter crashed into a tree and here are her personal effects.' Bagged wallet, watch and vibrator. Yeah, that has to be fun." She laughed, "Which is why I never use them!"

He could've gone another century without being told that little piece of information. Mentally he shuddered, and wondered how soon they'd get to Miami. She was driving fast enough that it shouldn't be more than another twenty or so minutes from his calculations.

"So what to do? What to do? I already feel better being out. It was a great idea. Need to celebrate my million dollar baby." She was talking about the million plus she'd stolen from someone earlier in the evening. And it wouldn't be hers for long, since he planned on liberating the monies from her accounts before dawn. By then he would have Celina, and Tricia would either be dead or locked next to Celina in a cage.

"Remember you're going to see if you can find celebrities." He put that notion out there.

She nodded distractedly while careening around a slow moving car and said, "I don't know why lately I am so fascinated by the news casters from the six o'clock program. There is something about them. And that one gal who works behind the scenes -- Celina Holston -- was actually on screen. I'd noticed her talents with the gals. She really makes them look stunning. Maybe she'll do me."

The double entendres were thick but then Tricia was still venting major sexual energy she had stockpiled from working too hard and Jerry's neglect. Jerry felt somewhat responsible for the human's problems -- but only somewhat. She wasn't his usual type of donor, but he couldn't afford to be as selective as he'd been when Master of the City in Detroit. Yet again reminding Jerry how much pain he owed Celina and her group of Council's pet vampires.

The music blared again, filling the car with the deep throbbing bass notes and some horrible vocals swearing and singing about how dark and nasty the world was and how bad they were because the world was so cruel. The self-indulgent lyrics irritated Jerry. He'd love to have ten minutes alone with the songwriter. He'd show the idiot what cruelty truly was.

A different discordant song started filling the car, then Tricia reached into the purse she'd dropped at her feet when she got into the car and pulled out a cell phone. To Jerry's amazement, she shut the music off and actually answered the call. In the years he'd known her she distained phones, saying that they were the biggest source of identity theft and she used them against her victims easily.

His ears were ringing from the music, but still he heard both sides of the conversation perfectly.

"I thought you'd never answer," a breathy voice on the other end answered Tricia after she said, "Hello?"

"Usually I don't, but I gave you your own ring tone." She laughed softly with a sultry under tone.

"Oh, really? What is it?" The male sounded older but playful. The pit of Jerry's stomach dropped as it dawned on him that he could be wrong about Tricia going without a human lover.

"That's for me to know and maybe you to find out," she was actually flirting. Jerry wanted to snatch the phone out of her hand and toss it out the car window. He remembered he was supposed to be a fantasy, so technically he wasn't even there and kept quiet. His opinion of Tricia plummeted even further as he grew aware of the fact that she really wasn't a very nice human. But then she wouldn't have been as tasty if she had been pure and innocent. Her blood was rich and complicated and once he got rid of her he'd miss her taste.

"So Georgia, when do I get to see you?" Jerry looked out of the corner of his eyes to see Tricia preening. And as for the unseen caller, he'd called her Georgia, and Jerry knew that certainly wasn't her name. He vaguely recalled that she'd lived in Georgia for a while before making her way down to Florida to fleece the rich.

"What, all my pictures aren't good enough to keep you distracted until I finish my business?" A feeling of relief flowed through Jerry as it dawned on him that she hadn't been with the man, but was toying with him online. He risked a peek into her mind since she was distracted by the call and the increasingly heavy traffic. The bars had started closing and the road was filled with inebriated morons trying to pretend they hadn't been over-served at their local watering holes. One white panel van was hitting the road buttons on both sides of the lane; the driver wasn't quite driving in the lane but more or less using the buttons to give a hint where the van was. He was correct. Tricia hadn't met the man yet, but fished online to find him in a 'meet a millionaire' website. She had sent a series of provocative outfits with slutty poses to the man and called herself Georgia Peaches. The name evoked memories of Edna's annoying little dog Mister Peaches. Jerry found humor in the idea that the computer hacker had the same name as a troll snack.

Who knew, maybe Mister Peaches and Georgia Peaches would meet inside the troll's belly before too much longer.

The man chuckled, "You are so naughty."

"You have no idea. So what are you going to do to me? Spank me?" She grinned as she heard him exhale deeply.

"Oh, yes. You need me to spank you. Tan your little white ass." His breathing was getting deeper and Jerry knew the man was turned on by Tricia's bantering and pictures. He wanted to be anywhere but trapped in the car listening to her. If he'd really been a figment of her imagination he'd already be gone. Then it dawned on him she was turned on by the idea of voyeurism. He thought he saw a way to use it to get Celina trapped.

"Baby, you really are turning me on. I can't handle you and driving right now." She actually was having no trouble from what Jerry could detect, but it was all part of the game she was playing with the caller.

"How turned on are you, Georgia?" From the sounds on the other side of the phone Jerry knew the human was very aroused by Tricia's sex play.

"I'm so wet." She panted slightly while licking her lips and grinning. She put her cell phone on the dashboard and hit the speakerphone key. She then looked at Jerry, fully aware that her fantasy man was still in the car and reached for him. He didn't see how he was going to pull away from what she was attempting to do to him without causing a major car wreck. Vampires could die in such mishaps and that was not the way he planned on going out.

The man groaned and made a slight sigh.

"How wet? Tell me. Let me hear you." He commanded. Jerry felt her fingers working his belt again while she moved a lane over since she was drifting to the right while she tried to get him in her hand.

She picked up speed as the man on the other end began breathing faster and making a groaning noise. Then she passed an exit just south of the airport and strayed a bit out of her lane. The entire vehicle lit up with blue flashing lights.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, cop is pulling me over. Got to go." She snapped the cell phone shut and put both hands on the wheel. Jerry tensed as she pulled to the side of the highway. His entire existence had been written off as a fantasy in her head. If the cop asked him any questions that would blow the entire scenario. She wasn't stupid, and if she found out that Jerry wasn't a figment of her overactive imagination he'd never be able to subdue her.

Not to mention he'd be on record as having been with her the night she disappeared.

"Why the hell does this crap happen to me? Fuck!" She growled while the car slowed and the cop car pulled in behind her. Just then two small foreign cars flew past them at eighty or ninety miles per hour. Two other police cars were hot on their trail. The highway patrol car that had pulled her over pulled right back into traffic and flew down the road after the chase. She clapped her hands and said, "Well, fuck me. It is my lucky night! No ticket. Go you punks! Go!"

She shrugged at her phone and said, "I wonder where Celina hangs out? I think she needs to give me a makeover if I want to land Morty. You know Morty, the guy who's busy jerking off to my pictures right now? I'd call him back but from the pictures he's sent me of his junk, I think his hands are quite full."

Still parked she looked over at Jerry and said, "Celina seems really approachable to me for some reason. Am I crazy talking to myself and going to look this woman up? Damn it, I have enough money to bail my ass out of jail if she calls the cops. But somehow I feel tied to her. Like she's my sister or something. I really do need a makeover. This trashy look is good for cyber crap, but I need to look classy when I go out to those posh restaurants."

That decided, she nodded and looked at the directions she'd printed out before they'd left her house. She glanced at the sign and said, "Hell, she's closer to Fort Lauderdale than Miami. This should work out fine."

Article © Lydia Manx. All rights reserved.
Published on 2011-07-11
1 Reader Comments
11:02:26 PM
Lydia, you can make some infinitely hate-able characters. Tricia is one of them. I can't decide if I want her to be Jerry's dinner or a troll's sandwich.
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