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My Night of Darkness

By Margaret DraperPublished 2 years ago 3 min read
Photo by Roxy Aln on Unsplash

Sitting languidly in the esthetican's chair, I try my best to muster some interest in the small talk of the woman doing my nails. Worthless, stupid humans; their short meaningless lives and pointless endeavors always repulse me. Unfortunately, I've learned I have to do at least a few daily activities like them to blend in. As well as there's the small matter of sustaining one's self, ie grocery shopping, paying bills, and other day to day matters. Living as long as I have, money isn't an issue. But do I want to spend my day hilling potatoes in a garden? Decidedly not! I considered having house staff, but things are just a little different than they were three hundred years ago. Not only are humans smarter and more well-informed thanks to technology, there tends to be a large outcry when one is found dead in an alley. Disposing of the maid when she's seen or heard something she shouldn't have poses all kinds of headaches. Much as I detest it, I take one day a week and look after my penthouse myself.

Giving the last finishing buff to my long, elegant nails, the woman beams at me. Fighting down my revulsion, I smile and tip her handsomely. I guess I have a few small vanities, my hair and my nails being at the top of the list. As I said, money isn't an issue, so I use only the best beauticians the city has to offer. Besides that, my favorite night of the year is just around the corner; a girl has to look her best you know.

Stepping outside, I listen to the now familiar urban sounds; traffic, street vendors, pedestrians. It's unfortunate that soon I'll have to move yet again. Remaining beautiful and ageless while the people around you grow older everyday does have its drawbacks. I'll miss living here. There is anonymity in living in a large urban center. No one really notices what you do, or when you come and go. A few personal quirks, such as being a bit of a recluse, nobody even bats an eyelash.

Arriving home, I park my Mercedes and step into the elevator. Late evenings are quiet here. I unlock the door, and step into my apartment. Wretched heels! Slipping them off, I take my long, black glossy hair down out of its bun. Fitting in requires a bit of personal discomfort on my part. After I put on my favorite dressing gown, I pour a Scotch and take a moment to survey my place. Everything is expensive, but tasteful. The living room has Italian white leather furniture. My baby grand piano sits along the far wall. Settling into my favorite chair, I eye the bookcase. Behind it, is my workshop, books, and everything else that I don't wish nosy human eyes to see. Packing it up will be a chore, but I can hardly hire a moving company to help with that! Renaissance paintings have always been my favorite. Unfortunately, I have had to have a few people from work over on a couple of occasions. Hence, my artwork is a bit more demure than what I'd like to display. My favorites hang in my workshop. I smile as I contemplate that Halloween draws close. The night of the year when what is depicted in these paintings comes true.

Science and knowledge have enlightened humans, but it has also made them lax and forget the old ways. Magic isn't as strong as what it once was, but its still very real. Thinking about Halloween and the one night of the year when the veils parts, sends delicious goosebumps down my spine. Ah, I so miss the days when demons and spirits walked in this world with the freedom the cursed humans do.

Pouring another Scotch, I eye my sound system. Nothing like a bit of music to get one in the mood.

Smiling, I finish the last of my Scotch, as the electric guitars hit a screaming crescendo. Soon now it will be the humans and not the music hitting those high notes. I can't wait.


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