Vultures

Vultures are the most romantic animals on the planet. Vultures mate for life. They find a fellow guy vulture or a fellow girl vulture and fall in love and have kid vultures together. They don’t care that they’re both the ugliest things known to man, and the only thing they eat is rotten flesh and garbage. They’re in love. And I’m proud to say that I found my vulture.

Although my vulture is a lot cuter.

And human.

I wait patiently by the curb, the light from the street lamps making everything glow a soft yellow. The night is crisp and foggy; the perfect setting for an Edgar Allan Poe poem. I smooth the skirt of my butter-yellow sundress and flatten my voluminous brunette curls against my head. Behind me, the windows of my cookie-cutter suburban house are dark. I snuck out again (and Father would be greatly displeased to find me out of bed).

The sight of an old, average-looking car careening around the corner excites me. I recognize the caved in bumper, the rust creeping along the edge of the tire well like shadowy vines. The car comes to an abrupt stop in front of me, and the window rolls down to reveal a toothy grin shining from the murk.

“Luke.”

“Hey, kitten.”

I blush and climb into the passenger seat. Luke winds his arms around my waist and pulls me into a long kiss that can only be described as breath-stealing and passionate. When we finally part, I notice a distracted look in Luke’s eyes.

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” I pout.

“Nothing,” he says quickly, his grip on the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are paling.

I frown. “You can tell me anything.” I place a hand on his shoulder.

Luke flinches. “Don’t fucking touch me, Charlotte,” he snaps.

My hand falls limply on my lap. “What did you just say?”

Luke sighs and runs a hand through his spiky blonde hair. “I’m sorry, kitten. Forgive me?”

I force a smile and kiss him on the cheek. “Of course.”

Luke wraps his hand around mine and pulls away from the curb. Carrie Underwood’s "Before He Cheats" starts playing, and I turn up the volume. I don’t usually care for country, but this song speaks to me.

We pull up to the curb of a large, brick mansion. Fluorescent lights strobe from the windows, and I can feel the pounding bass resonate through my feet as I step onto the asphalt.

“What’re we doing here, pumpkin?” I ask.

“The football team is having a party to celebrate the season,” Luke explains. He wraps his arms around my waist and leads me up the drive. On the front porch, a scantily clad woman is perched on the lap of a half-conscious boy. “Welcome to the party,” she preens, tracing her long, red fingernails along the boy’s throat. My eyes flash with understanding, and Luke frowns. “Who are you staring at?”

“Nobody,” I mutter as Luke opens the front door, and I’m instantly bombarded by a barrage of different sensations. The music is so loud I can feel the rhythm take control of my heartbeat and run with it. The smell of body odor, alcohol, and weed assaults my nose as Luke pushes me further into the melee.

I feel hands grab for me, and suddenly I’m torn from my boyfriend’s grip. I glance up, my green eyes fearful, and see Luke’s best friend, Zack.

“Zack!” I exclaim, relieved.

“Hey, Charlotte!” Zack says. He grabs my elbow and leads me off the dance floor and into the quieter recesses of the kitchen. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Luke said you were sick and wouldn’t be able to make it.”

“I’m not sick,” I mutter.

“I meant sick, as in sick of parties. Not sick as in physically,” Luke replies quickly, suddenly appearing out of thin air.

Zack and Luke exchange knowing looks, but I’m too jumbled to notice. “Do you have any juice?” I ask.

A smile breaks across Luke’s face, and he walks over to the bar. “Would you like cherry, grape, or apple juice?”

“Apple.”

Luke hums cheerfully as he pours my apple juice into a champagne flute. It’s fizzing and sparkling when he gives it to me. “What’s wrong with it?” I demand.

“It’s sparkling apple cider,” Zack explains dryly.

I sniff it once, then shrug and down the contents in one gulp. A warmth begins to spread from my stomach to the other parts of my body. A grin spreads across my face. “Zack, you always have the best apple juice.”

Zack laughs easily. “Thanks, Charlotte.”

Luke pours me two more, and we make our way to the living room. We find a place on the couch and sit down.

“I love you,” I sing.

Luke snorts.

“Don’t you love me back?” I demand haughtily.

Luke forces a smile and kisses me on the cheek. “I’m going to find Ava.”

“Ava Coleman?” I hiss. She’s been crushing on my boyfriend for months now. I hate her. She’s ruining my chances of being with my vulture. I hate her.

Luke rolls his eyes. “We just need to talk about some presidential business,” he says impatiently. “Don’t be so fucking clingy.”

I flinch, and watch with forlorn eyes as Luke disappears into the pulsating crowd. He’s the student body president, and Ava Coleman is the vice-president. Luke’s so dedicated to his job, that he’ll sneak off at parties, games, and school functions just to discuss political matters with Ava. I love how dedicated he is to his job. I hate her.

I finish off the other two glasses and shakily stand up. The world is swimming before me in a lethargic, dreamy haze. I saunter up to Zack, who’s busy grinding up against a girl wearing a blood-red cheerleading uniform, and tap him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me,” I hiccup. “But do you know where Ava and and Luke went?”

An alarmed expression contorts Zack’s features. “Charlotte? What’re you doing up still?”

I frown, “Where’s my vulture?” I whine.

“Your... vulture?” Zack pushes the cheerleader away from him and turns toward me. “Aren’t you feeling tired, Charlotte? Don’t you want to take a nap?”

“It is hard for me to walk normal,” I mutter. “I don’t understand why I’m so groggy; I was just fine a few minutes ago.”

“Why don’t I take you home? It looks like you need some rest. Luke will check on you tomorrow.” Zack grabs my wrists and guides me out of the living room and into the main foyer. I start to tug against his grip, panic creeping down my spine. Where is my vulture? Where is my vulture?

Where. Is. My. Vulture.

Zack’s pulling me toward the door when we hear a crash upstairs.

“What was that?” I gasp, but my mouth is so heavy that it comes out sounding like a different language.

“Nothing. I’ll check on it later. Let’s go,” Zack says quickly.

“Is my vulture up there? Luke!” I force my hand out of Zack’s grip and start fumbling up the staircase.

“Charlotte, wait.” Zack climbs after me and grabs onto my ankle. Reflexively, I kick back and slam my foot directly into his nose. I hear a "crack!" and glance down to see him tumble head over heels down the steps. He lands with a thud on the floor, blood pooling around his unconscious form. I blink, then continue my way up the stairs, unscathed.

I finally reach the second floor, and start jiggling the doorknobs. My movements become robotic and frantic, like the Tin Man when he found out his heart was stolen. I reach the very last door and hear voices. A hopeful smile breaks across my face, and I open the door.

To Ava and Luke on the bed.

Naked.

My smile freezes in place, and suddenly everything becomes crystal clear.

“Holy shit, Charlotte?” Luke exclaims. He jumps off the bed and starts shimmying his clothes back on. Ava gasps, her face fearful, and wraps the comforter around her pale body protectively.

“How’s the meeting going?” I ask, still smiling.

“Charlotte, I’m sorry. Please forgive me,” Luke begs.

My smile widens, almost as if it went through a taffy stretcher. “Oh dear, it’s fine. Can you give Ava and I moment, please?”

“Where’s Zack?” Luke asks. His eyes widen in terror. “What happened to Zack?”

“Nothing that couldn’t have been prevented,” I answer gleefully. “Now, will you please excuse us?”

“Charlotte, please. Don’t do anything,” Luke whispers.

“Maybe next time you’ll think before you cheat.” My smile’s so wide and cheerful my eyes are starting to squint.

Luke glances at Ava, and they exchange a look that I’d never seen before. One of forgiveness. “Kiss?” I say, winking at Luke.

Luke swallows hard, his face the sickly green color of death, and kisses me firmly on the cheek before I shove him out of the room. I lock the door, and turn on Ava, still smiling.

“How are you? Feeling okay?”

“Y-Yes,” Ava stammers.

I pace the length of the room. The floral theme is nauseating at best, with its daisy-patterned wallpaper, tulip-covered curtains, and thorny rose sculptures. I pick one of the sculptures up.

“No need to be frightened. I don’t know why people are so frightened of me,” I say reassuringly, examining the sculpture.

“Luke told me what you do to people,” Ava says feebly.

“What I do to people? Luke is a manipulative asshole who cheats on me every second he gets. Sometimes I wonder why I’m still with him.”

“Why can’t you just let him go free?” Ava whimpers, tears falling down her face.

“Of course, you’re on his side; you fucked him.” My smile immediately falls from my face and I turn around, glaring at Ava. “You manipulated him, didn’t you? You coerced him into cheating on me. It’s the only reason why he’s ever mean to me; because girls like you tell him he can. I’m just going to have to fix this, aren’t I?”

“No, please don’t. I won’t tell anyone, and I’ll leave Luke alone. Please,” Ava sobs.

I step forward; I’m so close I can faintly smell her peppermint perfume. “You’re ruining my chances of being with my vulture. Don’t you know that? Luke and I are each other’s vultures. We belong together. And I can’t let you threaten that any longer.”

I plunge the thorny rose sculpture down Ava’s throat.

She fights me at first, like they all try to do. She wraps her frail hands around mine and gags against the force of the thorns scraping against her esophagus. I smile widely as she chokes. She gasps and grips for air one last time before falling limp, her eyes already clouded with lifelessness.

I remove the bloodied rose from her throat and place it next to her black hair. I place her arms across her chest and close her eyes. Before I leave, I notice that some of her blood is still on my fingers. Getting a sudden idea, I turn back and draw a V on the wall above her head.

Luke is cowering on the floor outside when I exit. “Shh, it’s alright,” I coo. “Let’s go home now. It’s done.”

I grab his hands and help him to his feet, then wrap his arms around my waist as we walk down the stairs. I hear Luke’s breath hitch in his throat when he sees Zack’s body on the ground. I step over him delicately. “Kiss?” I ask Luke, and we kiss passionately above his friend’s unconscious body.

As we’re leaving, I notice the same scarcely clothed woman from before, only this time she’s sitting on a porch swing, alone. She smiles flirtatiously, and I notice that her hands are dripping red. “Did you have fun at the party?”

I tug on Luke’s sweatshirt sleeve, and he stops and gives me an anxious look.

“Oh yes.” I said, smiling merrily. “We did.”

“Who are you talking to, Charlotte?” he asks tiredly, his eyelids fluttering with the weight of emotional exhaustion.

“You, silly,” I insist, patting Luke’s hand and leading him down the porch steps.

“Your day of reckoning is upon us, girl,” the woman screeches. I glance over my shoulder and see her standing on the porch railing, her teeth bared. I shudder inwardly at the flecks of dried blood decorating her unusually sharp canines. She smiles wickedly, smelling my fear. “You were reckless this time. Prepare for retribution.” She points a long, blood-coated finger at me, and that’s when I notice the wings spreading behind her like a large, sinewy shadow. “You’ve been warned.”

And with a final scream, she vanishes.