Cherry Pink

I was all set to write down more of the adventures of my vampire killers, especially now that Amanda is fully on board. However, I am on the verge of becoming ill, so about the only thing I can do is stare at the television from under piles of warm, fuzzy blankets.

If you'll indulge me, I'd like to present a little idea I got from a dream I had about some haunted lands and an unsettling house. This is the first bit of the backstory that I wrote a while back. I'm not sure if any thing will come from this bit of it, but the characters will continue on in a larger story arc. Everything has a way of connecting to everything else. Who knows who will turn up later on. I hope you'll stick around to see.





“The Fontaines used to be the most influential family in the area. We owned damn near every square inch of the county.” Granddad Augustus paused only to light the pipe that he had owned since he was a boy. “Now, though, we barely have two cents to rub together. The only evidence of our glory is our name in every cemetery from the river to the hills; and in family plots at every manor house along the way.”


Granddad puffed wistfully at his pipe; he was old enough to remember “those days”, as he put it. First the depression and then the war effectively put an end to the Fontaine family reign in southern Virginia. The younger generations indulged Granddad in his stories, but secretly despised his nostalgic ramblings. They were living simply and comfortably and were quite happy to be mundane.

While the fragrant pipe smoke curled around Granddad’s rocking chair, Savina sat quietly by his side and twirled her hair nervously around her finger. She was the grandchild that Granddad Augustus treasured above the others. Her large brown eyes and chocolate tresses tied up in tiny pink bows were so reminiscent of his wife’s that his melancholy memories stood no chance against her smile.

Gathering her courage, Savina tugged on her grandfather’s sleeve. “Apa,” she said tentatively, “you mean we have nothing left?” She was only seven, and had been told little of the family history. Being naturally curious, Savina risked her grandfather’s temper.

“Nothing of any value, little baby.” The smoke swirled as he exhaled, creating little curly cues in the air.

“What about the land across the hill, Apa?” Even the summer insects seemed to stop as everyone nearby held their breath for his answer. This was a subject no one mentioned to Granddad.

“Hmm.” Granddad said nothing but worked the end of his pipe around in his mouth.

“Apa?” Savina’s voice was shaky, but she wanted to know so badly why no one ever mentioned that land.

“Listen little baby. I’m only going to tell you this once.” Granddad looked her straight in the eyes, his tone quiet but strong. “That land has no worth, nothing good ever came off it. No one used it much, not even in our heyday. It just doesn’t suit people, never has and never will. We couldn’t give that land away much less make a profit from it.” He grabbed Savina’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Don’t worry yourself about that land, little baby. As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t even exist.”

Savina smiled at her grandfather, but what he had said only intrigued her more. That night she dreamed about the land across the hill.