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Angel May

by Shi Y, Arizona, USA, Age 16

It was dark, and I was alone. Afraid to go back, afraid to stay there, I pressed my shawl to my bones, against cold winds and dead fear. “Howard,” I whispered. “Please.” I wanted to scream his name and run to the echo, but even more I was scared—scared to move, breathe, live, lest the dead of the graves come rise. The wind howled around me as I stood against the countless rows of tombstones. My eyes searched the darkness indiscriminately, anxiously. “Howard,” I pleaded. “Where are you?”

I realized I was paralyzed. The wolves will come and I will not run, I thought; I will stand here until they have ravaged me whole, until my bones fall to the ground, barren and white. My heart will flee, uncaged then, beating against the gleaming sky as it beats now at the lining of my chest. “Howard,” I begged.

“Angel May,” he answered me. “Darling Angel May, why ever do you fret?” He was so near me, and yet I saw no one. The caress of his words lay damp on my neck even as I turned to receive him—but no; it was but a thought, for he was not there. Only the deathly still.
“So brave, my sweet. I saw you standing there, beautiful and tall for all to see. Now fear not, for I truly am here. No harm shall befall you in all eternity, love, for I am true to my word and this is indeed the game of games.”

I could hear the grin in his words, could see his canines glinting in the dim light, teasing me as always with a hint of danger and the promise of a safe return. “Howard.”

“Yes, love.”

“I wish to see you by my side.”
He stepped out of the darkness with the air of the occult, and graciously bowed to me. “Your demands are my desires, Angel. Shall we walk along the lake tonight?”

“I should like to very much,” I smiled, and took his arm. We walked in silence then, until I asked why he had left me for so long.
He grinned mischievously again at that. “But of course! The glorious wait on the moonlit shores of death—only half the fun, my dear, I assure you.”

“I did not find that much fun, Howard.”

“And it pains me more than you can even realize.” He paused, then asked, “Angel May, do you know why we are here tonight?” I said I did not. “Then I shall inform you forthwith. We are here to indulge ourselves in the game of truth. It isn’t often played these days, but the rules are very simple, and, I daresay, obvious. Do you agree?” I did. “Very well, then. I shall start with a question: Do you want to die?”
I looked up at him, startled. “Well, no,” I finally answered. “Of course not.”

“Of course; you wonder why I ask. Forgive me.” He sighed deeply. “The truth is, Angel, I can think of no eloquent or delicate way to express what I mean to say, so here I begin: you know that I love you.”
“Well, yes—” I began.

“Hush, Angel,” he whispered. He looked at me then for the first time that night. His eyes were cloaked in sorrow, and his gaze pierced my heart with through with despair. Quickly he glanced away, but I had already seen what he could not suppress.

Helplessly, he said, “I should like to marry you, Angel. And I can promise you such bridal gifts as you had never imagined possible, but they are for a price.” He inhaled, the air shuddering and rasping in his throat. “Would that I could pay it for you, or had never paid myself….but alas, the fact remains.” He turned to me then, with such intensity I gasped involuntarily. “You are tortured!” I exclaimed, shocked.
He grimaced. “Yes. Tortured by life, by love for the living. Oh, Angel…Can you not guess? Do you not know? I am undead, and yet not living.”

“Vampire,” I whispered.

Howard nodded miserably, his fate written into his every angle, his soulless eyes burning with the fires of Hell. “And you, with your dark hair and soft skin and strong, vibrant heart…,” he shook his head. “I wish for naught but my Angel of May.”

His skin was iridescently white in the moonlight; his cloak swirled around him and his black eyes bore into my skull brutally. “Vampire,” I repeated. My heart was flailing now, as it had before, and I could see him listening to the rhythm of it. “Vampire!” I screamed desperately, and ran. I fled past grave after grave, and still I felt his damned eyes, still I saw his glinting teeth, still he was there, in front of me.
“Do you want to die?” he cried. “Do you want to die? I can promise you…you’ll stay as beautiful, forever. Angel May! Sweet Angel May!” He caught me in his arms even as I passed him by. “Be my angel,” he whispered into my hair. “I promise you, I promise I will treat you well.” I struggled, but my heart was slowing, luring me back and into his embrace. I cried out but all was still; he owned the night; just as he now owned me.