Saturday, June 28, 2008

The Collettes: Luna by Dahlia Rose

The letter arrived with no return address and the paper of the envelope seemed too old to be used as stationary these days. Georgina Matthews turned the envelope over and over in her hand as she stared out into the cool New York night. She stood on the fire escape of her tiny cramped apartment in the Village and let the noise of the city fill her head for a moment. Everyone called her George. Growing up, anyone who dared to call her Georgina found themselves with a broken nose or eating dirt. Her father had taught her how to fight, because he knew what was out there. Knew what lurked in the darkness of the alleys in New York. George knew her mother hated that she lived in the city.

Being a southern belle from Atlanta, Analisa Matthews felt George should be Georgina. Her daughter should be there, dressed in pastels, marrying a rich banker.

I would if the rich banker had long legs and liked stilettos.

A wicked smile curved her lips at the thought. Her mother still chose to believe she was going through a phase. Analisa had decided George was experimenting with her sexuality, that some day she'd like men.

This sure has been a long, fun-filled experiment. She laughed softly at her own joke.

George looked down at the low slung jeans she wore. A chain wrapped around her hips, connecting through the piercing at her navel. A black tank shirt that said "Bitches Rule!" fit tightly across her chest.

She gave a small smile. Yeah, Mom would hate to see how I'm dressed today.

Her thoughts went back to the envelope in her hand and she breathed out a long sigh. A letter showing up in her mailbox without even a stamp made her uneasy. Her instincts made her skin crawl—this could not be anything good. She hadn't heard from her father in weeks and now this. Not delaying the inevitable any longer, she ripped it open and began to read.



To the Daughter of David Creve;



It saddens me to my very core to have to write you this letter. I grieve now as I tell you of the loss of your father. He died doing the thing we all take pride in doing. Ridding the world of the undead and the demons that walk the streets. I only wish I could have fought by his side to the end, but my injuries prevented me from doing so. The only thing I can offer you is my condolences and the name of the three undead sisters that caused his untimely departure from this world. The Collette sisters, Sola, Luna, and Willa. Born of undead parents, they are a curse upon the world. They now seek the amulet pieces that will allow them to walk in the day and drink from our human blood. They must be stopped by any means necessary. Your father died trying to protect the world from them and their evil, now you must take up where he left off. For your father's sake, for all of our sakes, because we all depend on you now.



With each word George felt her body chill and turn to ice. The father who taught her that things really did go bump in the night was gone. She never even got to fight by his side. She wasn't given the chance to tell him goodbye. The note was left unsigned. It was obvious one of his men thought she should know how her father died. The battle he fought all his life now carried his blood.

The paper crumpled in her fingers and angry tears fell down her cheeks. She smoothed it back out slowly, folded it, and put it in the pocket of her tight jeans. Crawling through the window back into her apartment, she took a bag out of the closet. Throwing in a few articles of clothing, a bible, a wooden cross and all the wooden stakes she had, she zipped the bag and threw it over her shoulders.

Walking out of the studio, she locked the door and stepped into the city night. She would take up her father's last mission to stop the Collette sisters by any means necessary. Even if it meant her life; she would have her revenge.