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The Crimson Time (A Vampire Crawl)

The Crimson Time (A Vampire Crawl)

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The Crimson Time is a tale of consumption to gross excess, a vampire crawl if you will; a pub crawl in the company of vampires, with a treasure hunt to drive the plot on its lurching, sodden way. Magdalene our luscious heroine returns, now a vampire full-blown. Bask in her immortal radiance as we share a few tumblers of dark rum with Auntie, listen as baby Finn farts (loudly; blame the vegetables) and watch as husband Samuel makes a total ass of himself. The Crimson Time dishes up tales of wicked sex, basement grow-ops, police malfeasance, rampant bloodletting and more... all of it set on a single, late-winter's day in Canada's fair Capital. Visit www.patriciaKmccarthy.com to purchase the rest of the series as eBooks.
The Crimson Time is a tale of consumption to gross excess, a vampire crawl if you will; a pub crawl in the company of vampires, with a treasure hunt to drive the plot on its lurching, sodden way. Magdalene our luscious heroine returns, now a vampire full-blown. Bask in her immortal radiance as we share a few tumblers of dark rum with Auntie, listen as baby Finn farts (loudly; blame the vegetables) and watch as husband Samuel makes a total ass of himself. The Crimson Time dishes up tales of wicked sex, basement grow-ops, police malfeasance, rampant bloodletting and more... all of it set on a single, late-winter's day in Canada's fair Capital. Visit www.patriciaKmccarthy.com to purchase the rest of the series as eBooks.

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Published by: Patricia K. McCarthy on May 01, 2011
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Derek: I rolled up another twisty. Fucking awesome Rizzla
papers, the best damn papers, like Canadian beer; there are
no comparisons. I could smoke and smoke and smoke and
it’s never fucking enough. And Kevin, that beer-guzzling,
farting brother of mine always hogs the best buds. If I give
him the twisty and let him have the first puff he sucks so
damn hard he leaves runs by the time I get it, the bastard.
At least I trust him. Half of the motherfucking population
can't be trusted, that's for fucking sure…motherfuckers.
Fucking cops too are totally corrupt and the fucking
government is the last place you can go to for help. I'd like
to blow up the province of Quebec and end their fucking
endless griping about bilingualism. The government is
completely out of touch with reality. In Canada, English is
the number one language. Chinese is second, Arabic third
and finally French is fourth. Man, talk about a wild night
last night. I banged Pussy so hard I thought my dick was
going to fall off! Fucking awesome! That's got to be the best
fucking thing that has ever happened to me, becoming a
client of that fuck house, best fucking thing, that's for
bloody sure. And my buddy, V-man Sam, is a fucking
vampire! Those DVDs are totally whacked. I decided when
Kevin and I finish up with the day's runs, I'm going to
suggest watching all of those DVDs we swiped from the
fuck house. I can't believe we forgot to watch them all.
Maybe V-man is right that I've got the attention span of a
bumblebee. Well, it was time to spark up another twisty.

78

The Crimson Time (A Vampire Crawl) | 79

The secret to enjoying life, as far as I’m concerned, is
herb, pussy and beer. Once you have these ducks lined up
in a row, you can cope with just about fucking anything.
Kevin says he can't live without music. Yeah, banging a
chick to tunes is cool, I have to admit.

Kevin: There is a special kind of freedom that comes with
having a wad of bills in your back pocket. It's like going up
to the tree of gold and shaking its branches as solid coins
drop from the leaves into your hand. Maggie's set-up in the
basement will soon become our set-up when they move
next door. I can't wait to manage the plants. I just have to
watch D-boy. That bastard smokes like a factory stack. He's
a total glutton. It's no mystery why, either. Our depressed
mother slit her throat and dad, the bum, did absolutely
fucking nothing for us. At least D-boy and I have each other
and now we've got this totally wild set-up in Rockcliffe
Park. But that sex house has got to get more chicks because
after a while I'll get bored banging the same broads. I don't
know how married guys do it.
I said goodbye to the owner of the tattoo parlour and
returned to the car with D-boy flaked out in the front seat,
his feet up on the dashboard and an herbal treat stuck to his
lips. The windows were up and the smoke had filled up the
car. Moments like these are few and far between. I banged
hard on the window and yelled, “POLICE!”
“Fucking asshole!” screamed Derek. His herbal treat
detonated all over his shirt when he lurched forward and hit
his head on the dashboard. I laughed my ass off. It's good to
be the older brother. You get impunity for bullying your
baby brother.

“Oh, poor baby,” I said, getting into the car, “You
bored waiting, D-boy?”
“Fucking asshole,” he repeated, punching my shoulder

really hard.

“It’s snot my fault you're a loser,” I said.

80  | Patricia K McCarthy

“Well at least my dick is big, not some sorry-ass limp
sausage like yours.”
We insulted each other constantly. Truthfully, we
cared deeply for each other but would never show our true
feelings. Being brothers means not having to talk every
fucking minute of the day about your feelings and being
able to spend time in each other's company without all of
these past hurts rearing up.
“That's it, man,” I said.
“For real, man?” asked Derek.
“We is done,” I said in my best bastardized-English.
“Right fucking on!” Derek had concurred with
enthusiasm. “Let's hightail it to our place and kick back.
You know I was thinking,” he began, “that we never
finished watching those DVDs we scoffed from that fuck
house and maybe we should spend the afternoon and catch
up.”

“For sure,” I answered. “And if we get fucking horny,
which we will, because you're a horn-dog on crack, we can
drive over to the house and fuck.”
“I like your thinking,” agreed Derek.
“Let's celebrate,” I suggested, “Spark one up bro'.”
Derek needed zero prodding. The herbal treat was
freshly rolled, whipped out of his smoking pouch, and
sparked before I could insert the keys into the ignition.

Samuel: No one answered. We waited patiently. Sandrine
kept smiling at me; probably thinking her gift would be
wrapped in black velvet with a studded diamond on the
inside. I winked at her. The door opened.
“Samuel!” said Pussy excitedly, “We didn't pencil you in

for today.”

“An impromptu visit, Puss, I want you to meet a friend

of mine.”

Pussy gladly opened the door for me and my young

trollop.

The Crimson Time (A Vampire Crawl) | 81

Sandrine and I entered the front hallway of La Maison
Erotique; her neck craned upward and her head tilted back,
looking in wonder at the oval, arched ceiling and the fresco
painting. There never used to be a painting until Kitty hired
an up-and-coming artist from the Ottawa School of Art. After
Tina's departure, Kitty needed to leave her special mark on
the house.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Pussy to Sandrine.
“Like, talk about posh,” commented Sandrine, sticking
out her limp hand for Pussy to shake. It made me realize
Sandrine’s naiveté and inexperience, when compared to
Pussy and Kitty. Tina's eyes would have registered dollar
signs, just like in Bugs Bunny, if she had had occasion to set
eye on her. Sandrine possessed the qualities needed in a
house of ill repute, mainly long legs, blonde hair, a vacuous
young brain and big tits.
“Can you pour something for Sandrine, while Kitty and
I speak?” I asked Pussy.
The dejection on Pussy's face was obvious. I had to play
politics. Despite my desire to deal exclusively with Pussy, I
was fully aware of who held the reins of power and at
present they belonged to Kitty. Things change, of course.
One day it would be Pussy and no doubt I would quickly
discover she too had been changed by power. None of us is
exempt from that influence.
Pussy nodded with the kind of nod that said she
understood exactly why I had brought Sandrine to the
house.

“Kitty!” yelled Pussy. In a few moments, Kitty
appeared, ironically wearing the same silk kimono that Tina
always used.

“Good morning to you,” I said to Kitty, who smiled
upon seeing me. She, too, was taken with me and only
wanted me to want her and no one else.
“Lovely to see you again, Sammy,” said Kitty, almost
impersonating Tina.

82  | Patricia K McCarthy

“You look grand this morning,” I lied, “simply grand.”
“I see you've brought me a lovely gift,” said Kitty, as she

spied Sandrine.

Sandrine smiled stupidly in place. I don’t believe it
actually occurred to her why I had brought her to La Maison
Erotique.

“Why don't you go into the kitchen with Puss and have
a cup of coffee with her,” I suggested to Sandrine.
“But I don't like coffee,” answered Sandrine.
“How about juice then?” countered Kitty.
“OK,” said Sandrine, looking back at me. I smiled to
reassure her it was all right for her to be alone with Pussy.
Kitty and I watched as Pussy and Sandrine had walked
away, then down the long hallway, through another
corridor, past the tearoom, and into the large, rectangular
kitchen, large enough to fit two dining room tables.
“She's young and beautiful,” noted Kitty.
“Indeed,” I concurred. “Can you fix her up?”
“That all depends,” said Kitty, “What split you looking

for?”

“Not interested in a split but a finder's fee is not entirely
out of the question.” By not insisting on a split, I stood a
better chance of successfully pimping out my little
bimbette.

Kitty stuck out her breasts, barely covered by a thin

layer of kimono.

“You've caught me at an inconvenient time,” she said,
tightening her sash. “I'm just finishing with a client. I think
you know each other, Sammy.”
“Tina used to call me that,” I commented.
“Sammy...yup, I know,” said Kitty, turning away when
the name of Tina came up. “We don't hear from her any
more so you might as well forget mentioning her.”
“Agreed,” I replied. “Do you have to run back to your
client? I'm sorry for dropping by unannounced.”

The Crimson Time (A Vampire Crawl) | 83

“For you, Sammy, I make exceptions,” responded Kitty,
who looked at me with a special glint in her eyes. I had a
quick reminder of Kitty and the time she saw me in the
pillow room when I killed Jean-Pierre, after he stabbed me,
and how I made short work of his tasty blood. In the after
light, the event must have been romanticized in her mind.
Kitty should have been afraid of me, not moving toward
me. Women are foolish romantics. They confuse a bad boy
with a really bad man. I had four kills under my belt, the
first in Barcelona when I was a roving gypsy protecting the
life of a street prostitute; the second being Jean-Pierre who
attacked me to protest having brought him to the fuck
house (which I did to protect my business after discovering
he had been popped by the cops); the third was constable
Fagan, in his private interrogation house, while my father
Sir William watched and finally the fourth, Raven.
“Seriously, Kit, I know what it's like to be a client and
to have someone interrupt your session. How about I wait
in the living room?”
“He can fucking wait,” she reassured me, “besides I
want to discuss this new arrangement with little miss thing
here.”

She walked on incredibly high spiked heels that made
her legs look long and thin. Kitty was not in possession of
the robust posterior of Magdalene's. I had had her plenty of
times before but a woman with power gives off a different
energy. She looked sexier and in control, just the kind of
picture I like to distort, turning her into my personal
plaything on all fours.
“OK,” I answered. “This shouldn't hurt a bit,” I joked.

Magdalene: Finn gobbled up his bottle. Afterward, I fed
him soup, spooning in half portions. Nothing pleased Finn
more than to be able to spit out part of the food before he
swallowed.

84  | Patricia K McCarthy

“You know, Auntie, I always think of Mom. I wish she
was alive, to be able to talk to her, just to see her again but
a part of me is glad she does not know this kind of me.”
“Yes, child, my sister Patricia would have thought this
whole biting business to be a hoot. Mind you, it’s just as
well she probably wouldn't have believed a bloody word of
your fisherman’s tale. She always said we change when we
least expect change from ourselves and that no one is a girl
for too long. Once we become women we are forever a
mother to the end.”
“I do not believe I am following your train of thought,” I

said to Auntie.

“Time marches on, child, until the time left is nearer to
none and all you have left are memories of eating until your
belly burst and laughing until pee piddled in your pants. In
the end, child, you give up the best things in life that made
your heart leap and to be sure, dark chocolate will irritate
your anus no matter how much you tell yourself you can
still eat it.”

I laughed so hard Finn began laughing. Food dribbled
out of his mouth. I went to Finn and kissed his sloppy
mouth. He clapped his hands together. Auntie reached over
and wiped his chin.
“This boy, Cain, child, I wouldn't trust him as far as I

could throw him.”

“I know,” I agreed. “Sir William asked Cain to deliver a
letter to me but I am no fool. He carries hatred in his heart
for Samuel.”

“For you too, child, don't for a second be fooled by his

weak appearance.”

“True enough. He has reason to hate me. Nonetheless, I
decided to put him up in the Days Inn on Rideau Street. He
can remain there until I figure out what to do with him.
Thankfully, he left without incident which means I did not
have to take care of him.”
“Is that what this secret letter is all about, child?”

The Crimson Time (A Vampire Crawl) | 85

“I already know what Sir William's letter says but I am
going to wait until Samuel comes home and read it to him
personally.”

“Then you're going to discuss this Cain boy?” asked

Auntie.

“I figured I would slip it under Samuel’s nose when he is
distracted with the letter.”
“Smart girl,” agreed Auntie. “They're a tad light in the
rafters these boys, and only one thought can be processed at
a time and even then it's a wee bit of a stretch to fully grasp
the implications. After all, we're dealing with men and the
whole load of ‘em don't know what's good for ‘em unless a
women either cleans it, wears it or takes it off in front of
them.”

She was a prize, my Auntie.
“If I understand your meaning, Samuel will go along
with whatever I tell him providing I tell him at the right
moment.”

“Smart girl you are, child, a wicked girl but a smart

one, to be sure.”

Samuel: Kitty barely managed to take a seat on the leather
sofa when I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He was
fully dressed in a black suit, not tailored to his body, and
totally covered in lint. The man sported a stomach large
enough to cover with one full jar of Vaseline jelly. I only
had to imagine what it was like to engage in sex with a man
of his rotund nature. The thought made me shudder. Truly,
women are brave souls, able to shut off their senses to get
the job done.

“Kitty,” called the superintendent from the hallway.
She looked at me and smiled and held up one finger,
advising me to wait. As she walked back into the main
hallway, he came into the living room.
“Samuel Crimson,” said the infamous Mister Stevenson.
“Superintendent,” I stressed, offering my hand.

86  | Patricia K McCarthy

“We are well acquainted with one another,” he said
aloud, looking at Kitty.
“My apologies, Sir, for keeping you waiting, Samuel's
visit was unplanned.”
“No need to apologize,” he assured. “In fact, Samuel can
take a moment to speak with me in private. We’ll use this
room.”

“For you superintendent, my house is at your service.”
“For a moment I thought I was speaking with Tina,” the
superintendent replied.
I looked at my watch and figured I had time to spare
before needing to return home. I could have guessed about
which the superintendent needed to speak. The reason was
obvious. The newspapers had detailed everything about his
busy career of late, chasing down Ottawa’s first serial
killer, who was in fact my wife, Canada’s first homegrown
vampire. But the superintendent had not made that
connection. No doubt, he believed I was involved in all of
the recent deaths.

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