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“I tell you Nate, you should go. It would do you good. The United Hotel only holds one Halloween Ball a year. Music, food and beautiful girls. Best there are masks, so even if you do dance with an ugly girl you wouldn’t know it.”

“It’s not right, Jack,” Nathan said locking the door of the general store, “trying to drown out the funeral organs with waltzes and laughter.”

“Did you clean out the feed bins like your father asked?” Nathan nodded. “Nate, your Lucy’s not coming back, it’s just not possible.”

“I’m not thinking just of her.”

“Yes you are, you always are.”

“I’m not. What about those poor widows, Mrs. Henderson and Mrs. Manners?” Nathan asked.

“Their husbands were sick and old to begin with, it was only a matter of time,” Jack said.

“What of the Kramer’s youngest daughter, she was barely four, was it ‘just a matter of time’ with her as well?”

“Doctor Hooper says that these diseases tend to strike the old and the very young, so in a way, yes. Please at least tell me you will consider the ball, it’s still a few days away.”

“For your sake I will,” Nathan said, his mind already made, and at last the two friends parted ways.

Nathan trudged through the mud, an orchestra of crickets sounded under the bridge as he approached, then went silent until he had crossed. The crickets were joined by a chorus of bullfrogs as he passed by Miller’s pond. A twilight symphony, Lucy used to call it. They had come to this park many times at night. They would spend an hour or two lounging in the downy grass waiting for the sun to set so they could watch the stars and the fireflies, sometimes it was hard to tell one from the other.

The little church was dark. Nathan wondered what the Reverend was doing out so late on a Wednesday. The gate squeaked as Nathan entered the little cemetery in the churchyard. He went straight to Lucy, careful to avoid the loose earth covering the three most recent graves.

“Hello Lucy,” he said dusting off her marker with his palm. Her tombstone was so plain, just a gray chunk of flint with Lucy Aberdeen 1849-1869 chiseled into it’s face. She deserved so much better, but it was all that their father could afford. “Sorry I don’t have any flowers for you tonight, we had a frost last night and it killed the mums in our garden. Don’t worry though because I have a surprise for you. I’ve been saving up to buy you a proper memorial. I’m having Willie Granger carve you an angel statue, just as soon as I can afford to buy a block of marble from the quarry. I know you would be kind of embarrassed about having the fanciest tombstone around.” Most of the dead in the cemetery were buried with similarly utilitarian headstones, a few were decorated with stone crosses. “I think if anyone deserves an angel it’s you.”

The church bells rang nine. He must have been wrong about the Reverend being out. “I better be getting home or father will have a fit. I’ll bring flowers tomorrow night, even if I have to swipe some dried ones from the store.” Nathan blew a kiss toward the heavens before following the gibbous moon back to the main road.

Nathan walked alone through the muddy streets of Nightshade. He followed familiar trails of ruts that led to he and his father’s home. Along the way he found Doctor Hooper and the good Reverend Blake outside of the Kramer’s house. The two men appeared to be sharing a solemn council on the front porch.

“Dr. Hooper, Reverend,” Nathan called out as he dashed across the street. “Is something the matter?”

Reverend Blake placed a hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “Ernie Kramer has passed.”

“The plague,” the night doctor added. Nathan knew all about the plague. A month’s worth of fevers, shakes, then watching the color and life slowly drain from the victim’s body. Then expiration. That is how it was with his younger sister Lucy, that is how it had been with all of the others. “Nightshade’s fifth death in nearly a year.”

Cruel fate had seen that Lucy died on the eve of her twentieth birthday. Her beloved older brother had squeezed her hand as the final agonized breaths of life passed her violet lips. The church bell had barely tolled nine o’ clock that evening when it rang again to invade the silence of the night. The death knell.

The people in the little town of Nightshade had known for whom this bell tolled. The evening before All Saints Day, Nathan Aberdeen lost the thing he loved most.

The undertaker stalked out of the doorway, he had been prepared for this night, behind him the Kramer’s two oldest sons and Willie the cemetery’s caretaker carried a small black casket. Nathan couldn’t bare to watch.

His own house was illuminated by a few gas lamps, his father was still up. Nathan pushed open the door to find Frank Aberdeen and Baroness Latos playing cards in the parlor. “Good evening father, evening Ms. Latos.” His father was a widower, Nathan’s mother having died in childbirth with Lucy. The two were laughing as Frank Aberdeen threw down his cards and folded.

“That’s eight straight hands you’ve beaten me. çatalca escort Oh, hello son. Care to join us for a game?”

“No father, I’m not in the mood tonight.” He considered reporting the news about little Ernie but did not have the heart to spoil their cheerful mood. He would tell his father in the morning.

Nathan climbed the staircase and trod to his room. He removed his coat and eased open the old window. He breathed deeply the crisp air pouring in through the cracked window before gazing at the Kramer’s darkened house. After some time of turning in his sheets he fell asleep thinking about the terrible plague and who would be it’s next victim.

A fitful night of sleep finally ended when Nathan hit the wooden floorboards. Had he fallen out of bed? He hadn’t done that since childhood. His neck was sore, he stumbled to his dresser where he lit the lamp and examined himself in the mirror. There were two red bumps close together on his throat. Mosquitoes. He cursed himself as he shut and latched the window.

The sun was just beginning to rise, he glanced at his watch and cursed the fact that he would have to get up in another hour. Nathan fell back on his pillow, breathing in the sweet scent of rosewater. He instantly drifted to sleep.


“Why do you keep scratching?” Jack asked the next day at the general store.

“These damned mosquito bites,” Nathan said raking his fingers over the swollen red bumps.

“How long have you had those?” Jack asked. Nathan told him he had woken up with them. “Funny, I’d think the freeze would have killed them all off.”

“Must have had a couple of the bloodsuckers in the house.”

“Must have,” Jack echoed. “Have you thought about who you are asking to the ball?” Jack Mercy was a master at changing subjects.

“I’m not asking because I’m not going,” Nathan said unambiguously.

“I know you’re in no mood for parties and no mood for dancing, but you will be some day,” Jack said, “I know you miss her terribly, but you need to forget this guilt you’re carrying around. You did all you could, you stayed at her bedside for a month. Besides it’s not like a little dancing ever killed anyone.”

Nathan Aberdeen knew it was true, every bit of it. He had made the same argument to himself repeatedly the last year.


Nathan closed the door to his room and turned the lock. He struck a match to light the kerosene lamp on his dresser. He cracked open the window a bit enjoying the rush of crisp autumn air. Outside owls hooted and crickets chorused. He listened for a moment, then remembering the sores on his neck, lowered the pane and latched it tight. Nathan tossed his coat onto the bedside chair, he unbuttoned his shirt and slid out of his britches to change into a nightshirt. He folded his clothes and laid them gently on his dresser right beside his most cherished possession.

There had been a photographer at the county fair two summers ago. Nathan had spent two dollars for the portrait of his sister. It was the best investment he ever made. She looked so beautiful in the silver frame. She always looked beautiful, even after she got sick. The man who took the photograph had asked her not to smile but she did anyhow. Nathan was grateful that she never took direction well. He wished his sister goodnight before dousing the lamp, he then collapsed into the warmth of his featherbed. Pulling the blanket over his chest he sank into the downy pillow, eyes falling shut.

He glanced at his clock, eleven. Cursing as he crawled out of bed he ambled over to the gas lamp on his dresser. He could have sworn he put out the light before he went to sleep. He doused the flame bathing his room in a primordial darkness. His muscles were stiff from the icy wind that poured in through the open window, he thought he had closed that too. Was he growing senile at twenty-six?

The church bells rang their death knell for another unfortunate victim, the sudden noise caused Nathan’s startled heart to jump. He grasped the pane and was about to pull it shut when he spotted a figure on the front lawn gliding about gracefully to the tone of the church bells.

Nathan could see that it was a young woman dressed in a white gown. Was she crazy to be outside in the middle of the night? He threw on his coat and some slippers and scurried down the stairs to the street outside. The bells of Nightshade’s little chapel were joined by others, unseen, their horribly beautiful waltz was carried by the icy October wind. The scent of rosewater tickled his nose, but no sign of the girl.

“Have you come to ask me to dance?” Her question nearly stopped Nathan’s heart. He spun around to find her leaning against the garden fence, plucking dried, dead mum blossoms. Mouth agape he could not answer.

He had never seen anything like her. She was dressed in a thin white gown, it was a sleeping gown but upon her figure it looked more elegant than the finest dresses in Europe. Her long raven’s hair hung in curly rivulets all the way down to her backside. esenyurt escort Her arms and face glowed like the moonlight She smiled with the side of her mouth.

“Lucy what are you doing out here? Are you trying to catch your death of cold?” he asked. Something was amiss.

“Dear brother, there is little danger of that.” She flashed the same grin, her green eyes narrowing like a cat’s.

“You died.” He remembered the funeral, the cemetery and the headstone.

Her shrill laugh pierced the night air. “My dear Nathan, with so many ways one can die, it should come as no surprise that some are less permanent than others.”

She approached, the scent of rosewater became stronger. “You aren’t making any sense Lucy.” Then it occurred to Nathan that he was dreaming. He had had many dreams about Lucy the past year.

The church bells intensified their haunted waltz as Lucy held out a small hand for her brother. What a peculiar dream, he thought as he found himself in the middle of the streets of Nightshade, in his nightclothes no less, dancing with his dead sister. She was graceful as an angel, gliding through the muddy streets clasping her brothers hand.

They stopped so he could rest on a bench in the garden. He studied every feature of the beautiful young woman. Her pale skin and dark and tired eyes looked exactly as they did before her death. He ran a trembling hand along her soft cheek. “Lucy your cold as stone,” Nathan said as the music faded in the wind. Come inside and warm up a bit.”

“My brother, do you insist?” she asked. A strange question since it was her house, or at least in life it was.

“I do,” he said taking her icy hand.

“Sit down and I’ll start a fire,” he led her to the couch where their father had entertained his own female companion.

“No,” she nearly shouted. “No,” more quietly, “take me to your bedroom.”

Nathan blushed and nodded. They sat on his bed, she did not take her eyes off of him, nor could he her. “Even though this is only a dream I am glad that you’re here. I’ve been so alone without you.”

“You’ve had father.”

He huffed. “Father, please! He’s been far more interested in the affairs of his little Baroness than those of his own son.”

“You mustn’t be so hard on father, after raising two children alone he’s entitled to some happiness.”

“I know that,” Nathan said, “it’s just I’ve had so little happiness since…”

Lucy snuggled into his shoulder. She was still cold. He pulled his blanket over her chilled body and held her in his arms. She looked up through dark and hungry eyes and planted a sweet kiss on his mouth. Nathan pulled away slightly to give his sister a questioning look. “Nate, you’re entitled to some happiness too.” She kissed him again only longer this time. He accepted her kiss and returned it, he lacked the will to fight it. He helped Lucy unfasten her silken nightgown. She peeled it over her head slowly, revealing her tantalizing body an inch at a time until she was completely naked. Her perfect body was on his bed, dark curly hair spilled onto his pillow, her creamy legs were tangled in his blanket. His eyes were instantly drawn to the ebony triangle of hair where her feminine treasure lay ready for him to claim.

On all fours he hovered over his beloved sister lowering his head near her crotch. He breathed her musky aroma. His nostrils were immediately enchanted. He extended his tongue to taste her unique spice, sliding it slowly along the length of the little furrow. For a long while he supped between her legs like a starving man, earning muffled cries of delight from his younger sister. He had just discovered her erect clitoris when he drove the girl to stiffen and shudder. Lucy moaned his name, a bit loudly, as she reached orgasm, and bathed his feasting mouth with even more of her liquids.

“Thank you Nate,” she pulled him up even with her for another kiss. She could probably still taste herself on his lips. His penis was hard, almost painfully so when she took it in her frigid hand. Nathan reclined on his pillow as her hand rocked his dick. In moments he felt a stirring deep within his loins as warm wetness spurted forth. Her stroking slowed as the torrents of sperm subsided, he had never felt so satisfied in his life.

Lucy cuddled into him resting her cool cheek on his stomach as she idly traced her finger in a pool of semen on his stomach. Nathan had closed his weary eyelids when she softly called his name. “Nathan.”

“Would you give me something if I asked?”

“Anything Lucy, I would give you anything you ask.”

“I know you would,” she twirled her fingers in his brown hair, her cool breath falling on his neck. Nathan Aberdeen drifted to sleep.


The next morning he awoke much later than usual. He stumbled over to shut his window, using some effort to turn the rusty latch. A cold front must have moved in overnight, he was positively frozen. He glanced at his clock, he had slept through most of the day.

When he went down to find etiler escort something for his raging hunger he found his father was already back from the store.

“A little warm for a coat today don’t you think son?”

“Warm? I’m frozen solid.” Nathan said using gloved hands to rub his neck. Sometime during the night two more mosquitoes had managed to make a meal out of his throat.

Frank Aberdeen placed his palm on Nate’s forehead. “You’re not running a fever, it must be from leaving your window open in the middle of October, like a madman.”

“Yes, I suppose.” Nathan pulled his leather gloves off and stuffed them in the pocket of his coat. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I figured you were having trouble sleeping again. I had Jack come in.” This was supposed to be Jack’s day off. “Don’t worry, that’s what friends are supposed to do. He said you knew how to pay him back.”

“Unfortunately I do,” Nathan said scratching the bumps on his throat until they were red and raw.

“I couldn’t be happier,” his father said, “the Ball will do you good. Maybe you’ll even meet a nice girl.”

Nathan shivered as a chill racked his body, he remembered the dream from last night. The waltz of the church bells, the lingering scent of rosewater upon the wind and Lucy. He bundled up his coat and on shaking legs made for the door.

“Where are you off to all of a sudden?”

“I have to see Jack.”


Jack was rocking on his porch reading the day’s paper and enjoying the warm weather when he saw his friend Nathan. “Good to see you up and about Nate,” he said. “Judging by the way you’re bundled up it looks as if you planned to hibernate through Indian summer.”

“I saw her last night,” Nathan said. His breath was deep and ragged. “She came to me.”

“Saw who?,” Jack’s eyes lit up. “What are you talking about?”

“It was Lucy she came back to me.”

Jack grasped his friend by the arm and led him under the porch and out of the sun.

“I danced with her last night.” Nathan’s knees buckled and he almost went down. Jack guided his friend into the rocker.

Jack Mercy examined his pale, sweating friend a moment. “You’re burning up beneath that thing.” He pulled his friend’s heavy coat off.

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me, no one would.” Nathan Aberdeen blinked black ringed eyes. “But it was her.”

“You were only dreaming—“

“It was no dream!” Nathan bounded from the chair. “I held her in my arms. I can still smell her rose perfume.” He pulled the coat back on, buttoning it tight and trembling with cold.

“You don’t look well.” Jack latched on to Nathan’s shoulder. Nathan tore free from his friend’s grasp. “Where are you going?”

“My Lucy is here, somewhere in Nightshade. I have to find her.” Jack made no attempt to follow, there was nothing he could do for his friend.


Nathan Aberdeen stumbled into the graveyard just as dusk settled. “Lucy, why did you leave me?” he said dropping before her simple tombstone.

“Didn’t you listen to the doctor? I was sick.” A young woman was reclining in the grass behind his sister’s grave. She patted the soft grass at her side. “Join me dear brother.”

Nate squinted into the dimness. Lucy had come back to him again. He fell to his knees beside her. She grabbed his coat, tugging it off. He shivered as a night wind blew across his back. Lucy embraced her brother, she was still cold to the touch, but he would gladly be frozen to the bone if it meant being close to her.

“Be still,” she whispered trying to calm his trembling body. Lucy kissed his pale cheek. “I am so sorry Nate,” she whispered.

“Sorry?” he asked. “What reason have you to be sorry?”

“I would never harm you,” she replied in a whisper. Lucy trailed soft kisses across his frigid cheek down to his neck. She stopped near his mosquito bites. She rubbed the four red lumps with soothing fingertips. She kissed him on the mouth, momentarily stealing the breath from him. “Never.”

She kissed him again with much more force, stilling his tremors for the moment. Just as she had last night, Lucy reawakened very old feelings that he had managed to repress during her lifetime. He felt a rush of blood and new life wash over his sick body. She molded her soft body into his, willingly receiving his returned kisses.

He had always felt this way about Lucy. He had supposed these feelings were not abnormal for young men with sisters as beautiful as his. He wanted Lucy, he had always wanted her.

Nathan reached behind her to unfasten the nightdress. He slid the silken material up her perfect figure and over her slender shoulders. She was nude before him again, her skin still pale as moonlight, her hair still dark as the shadows. He took her hand and raised it to his lips, planting tiny kisses starting on her fingertips. He stopped at her wrist, pausing a moment to breathe deeply of her scent. Her bare arm smelled of rosewater and something more earthy.

Nathan stopped abruptly. That she was his own sister was bad enough, but making love to a corpse would seal his damnation. But she did not look dead. Her body, though pale, slinked and slithered with feminine life. Her eyes, far removed from the glassy stare of death, bore into his own. Lucy Aberdeen may have no longer been counted among the living, but she was anything but dead.

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