Greensbury Street
She wanders down the pothole infested road, dragging a heavy, ragged sack. The wind whips against her frail figure, but she trudges forward, determination in her eyes. Her petticoat, red speckled, protects her as she moves from the damaged concrete road to a muddy dirt path. The pointed black iron gates come into view and she shudders. The sign overhead reads Greensbury Street Cemetery. Water droplets drip like tears from the slick, ivy covered gates. She ventures into the sylvan landscape, the large maple trees guarding her from the pounding rain. Finally, she sees the familiar worn grey stone that reads Arthur Cunningham, 1774-1817.
“Hurry Alice,” the stone seems to whisper. She drops the sack and pulls out a blood stained knife. She runs her left ring finger over the blade, unfazed by the pain. “Hurry Alice,” the voice commands. She obeys and carefully traces her finger over the inscription, leaving her blood to mix with the words. A deafening screech echoes through the cemetery as the gravestone slides across the earth to reveal a rotting wooden spiral staircase leading into a dark cavern. Alice grunts as she slings the sack over her shoulder and carefully steps down. The stairs creak with every step as she ventures deeper into the darkness.
“Alice, Alice,” the voice calls. “I’m hungry Alice.” She quickens her pace until her foot finally hits the soft dirt she has grown so accustomed to. A faint light guides her to a baroque wooden door. She whispers the incantation messily carved into the top of the door: Omnem dimittite spem, o vos intrantes. The door swings open with a bang to reveal a desolate chamber with a flickering chandelier swinging from a rusty chain. Granite walls covered with moss encase the room. A musk almost too powerful to bear permeates through the air.
“Come in,” the voice rasps hungrily. She enters the threshold and turns to see her husband, tightly shackled to the wall with clamps around his wrists and ankles. “Hello, Alice,” he croons. “You’re just in time.” She can’t will herself to look away as his hands start twitching, every vein and bone becoming more defined. He lets out a choked cackle as his body is suddenly taken over by violent convulsions. His hands jerk back and forth across the stone wall, cracking as his fingers expand and sharp yellow claws form. He rakes his claws across the iron, screaming for release as his skull bubbles and stretches. His skin sheds and is replaced with a transparent blue-grey mucus covering. He arches his back as much as he can as his vertebrae pop and crack to form a spinal ridge. Suddenly, his body goes limp with exhaustion. He is quiet, except for his labored breaths echoing through the room. Slowly, he raises his head to reveal two glassy orbs where his eyes once were.
He pants, staring at Alice and growls, “Well? Where is it?” She kneels to the ground and pulls the sack open. Carefully, she slides a pallid young girl out of the bag and lays her on her right side, facing the creature.
“She’s on the verge of death, very weak, just like you asked for,” Alice mutters, regret on the tip of her tongue. For a moment, she sorrowfully looks upon the defenseless child, thinking of setting her free and killing the beast; but instead, she turns her eyes towards Arthur and nods submissively.
“Thank you dearest,” he coos lovingly. His breathing becomes even more labored as he gazes intently upon his weak prey. He runs his black forked tongue across his upper lip as a yellow drool escapes from his mouth. Suddenly, his tongue snaps out toward the girl and enters her navel. Alice turns away and covers her ears as Arthur sucks the life out of the girl. When the slurping stops, Alice turns back to see a shriveled corpse lying in front of her. She cries for the child as she takes her shovel out of the bag and starts to dig a new grave in the dirt. “Don’t cry darling, that was the best one yet,” Arthur laughs as he licks his lips once more. “You did so well my pet, so very very well. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Alice whispers between tears, wondering if her words have truth to them anymore.

722 Oldham Road
Alice locks her door and sinks into her ancient flowered armchair, closing her weary eyes. How did I get myself into this, she thinks as she fades off to sleep. “Why me…”
                                     ????
“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest declared. She looked into Arthur’s peaceful, smiling blue eyes, closed her own, and leaned in to kiss him.
         
“Open your eyes, sweetie!” Arthur exclaimed. Alice’s eyes shot open and before her lay a small cottage. “It’s just big enough for the two of us,” he exclaimed. “And a baby.” Alice squealed and hugged Arthur tightly. “A baby…” she breathed.
          
“What do you think the baby's name should be?” Alice asked hopefully, rubbing her rounded stomach. Arthur replied with a pained grimace.
“Honey, are you okay? Was it the chicken?” Alice asked, putting her hand on his back.
“Get away from me,” he spat. Doubled over, he stumbled out of the room.
“Arthur, where are you going?”
“Out,” he yelled. The door slammed and Alice was left in stunned silence.
                                     ????
“Arthur, we have to talk about what happened,” Alice declared sternly. Arthur sat in his ancient flowered armchair, distracted by something. His eyes were distant, cold, almost black. Alice bent down and put her hand gently on his arm. “Arthur, come back to me. Listen. We need to talk, my love.”
“Quiet my pet, you can’t understand. Just let me be, please. I’m begging you. For your own safety,” Arthur whispered, hand rubbing the ridge of his nose in frustration.
“My safety? Arthur what the h-” Alice was interrupted by a thunderous roar. Arthur began to twitch wildly, his bones cracking. “ARTHUR!” Alice cried, “I-I’ll g-go get the doctor!”
“NO,” he roared. “Stay here!” Alice backed into a corner, watching in terror as Arthur’s skin fell to the ground. His bones cracked as his vertebrae extended. He turned, towering over her, glassy eyes fixed on her stomach. The creature barred it’s pointy teeth, as if it were smiling. She screamed as the creature’s black, slimy tongue shot out of the its mouth and penetrated her navel.

Alice woke up in Arthur’s arms. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I couldn’t control myself. I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” he blubbered. She looked down to see her baby bump had disappeared and in it’s place was a small red incision on her naval. She yelped and scrambled out of his grasp. She ran towards the door, desperate to escape, but Arthur tackled her to the ground.
“Please don’t go. Give me a chance to explain myself. Please, my love, don’t leave me,” he begged desperately. She stopped struggling against him, and slowly, he released his tight grip on her torso.
“W-what are you?” she asked as she turned to face him.
“My dearest, I am a monster,” he sobbed. “I- I’ve been this way since I can remember.” “And how l-long is t-that?” she stammered.
“Well.. s-since the 1500s,” he stated. “I lived in the Philippines, until 1897, when they found out what I truly am. I thought I was not welcome anywhere, until I found you Alice… you welcomed me into this town, into your life. I love you, Alice. And you love me, I know you do. And if you truly love me, you will not speak a word of this to anyone. I can’t lose you Alice, I can’t give up the life we built because of one moment of weakness,” Arthur pleaded, tears welling in his eyes.
“I will always love you,” Alice whispered, “but not what you have become.” Arthur let out a low mournful sob, tears falling to his knees.
“Please Alice, please,” he repeated over and over.
“Arthur,” she breathed, “what did you do to our baby?”
“Alice, I couldn’t control the urge anymore. I tried, you saw me, I tried, but I couldn’t stop myself.”
“WHAT DID YOU DO TO OUR BABY?” Alice bellowed, jumping to her feet. Arthur collapsed onto the floor, sobbing violently.
“I ate it, Alice. It’s gone, I ate it.” Alice’s vision blurred as she collapsed in a heap. Tears flowed across the ridge of her nose and down her cheeks as she lay helpless on the ground.
“My baby,” she wailed, “my baby, how could you, how could you?” Arthur just lay on the ground weeping. Suddenly, there was a rap at the door.
“Everything alright in there?” a voice called. “We heard yelling,” called another. Arthur looked at Alice, eyes begging for mercy that she could not provide.
“HELP!” she shrieked through tears. “MONSTER, A MONSTER ATE MY BABY!”
                                    ????
Alice trudged silently behind her husband down the pothole infested road, torches from the mob of villagers lighting their way. Village woman tried to comfort Alice’s aching heart as the mob led Arthur to his doom.
“Eternal damnation,” Arthur chuckled, just loud enough so Alice could hear. “What a fitting punishment.” Alice didn’t say a word, she just kept walking through the cemetery gates. The mob chanted a prayer as they maneuvered through the tree infested graveyard. After what seemed like an eternity, the group finally came to a new granite gravestone. A fresh inscription read Arthur Cunningham, 1774-1817.
“Only the blood of the lover can move the stone!” one of the men called. Someone tugged Alice’s left hand and swiftly sliced a small incision into her ring finger.
“Go,” a woman whispered, voice trembling. “Open it.” Alice willed herself to step forward and forced her finger roughly over the stone. With a deafening crack, the stone moved to the side to reveal a beautiful wooden staircase.
“Move,” a man growled, pushing Arthur toward the grave. Arthur stepped to the top of the stairs and turned to Alice.
“I love you, my pet. I will always love you. Please, don’t leave me here to suffer,” Arthur breathed into her ear. He looked at her with his pleading eyes, and she knew that she couldn’t abandon him.
“Somehow… I-I love you, despite all you’ve done. I will be there for you dearest. I-I promise,” Alice stammered, letting a tear fall down her cheek.
“Don’t cry, oh please don’t cry,” Arthur wailed. He moved his bound hands toward her cheek, but before he could wipe the pain away, he was ripped from her and thrown down the stairs. Alice sobbed as the village women led her away from the grave. ”Arthur,” she wailed, “Arthur, I won’t leave you! Wait for me!”
“Like I have a choice,” a faltering voice echoed from the opening.
                                     ????
Alice shoots up out of her chair, breathing heavily. She brings a hand to her face and wipes away the tears that clouded her vision.
“He did this to me,” she stammers angrily. “He broke my heart, he tricked me. He never loved me, he loved the prey I could bear for him,” she rages, clenching her jaw in disgust. “My love is a monster… and my love is going to pay.”

Greensbury Street
“Arthur,” Alice calls as she enters his prison. She turns to see Arthur in his human form, a bewildered look plastered on his face.
“Alice,” Arthur exclaims, “my love, what are you doing here? Feeding time isn’t for another week.”
“Oh Arthur, I’ve missed you,” Alice croons, batting her eyes. She drops her shovel and takes off her petticoat to reveal only a white nightgown underneath. She glides forward, eyes locked in on her prey.
“I long for your touch, Arthur. I long to hear you scream my name,” she says seductively, caressing his face. “I long for you Arthur,” she whispers into his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.
“My pet, I wish I could touch you, I wish I could satisfy your needs, b-but my bonds, t-they do not allow it,” Arthur stammers, tantalized by his stunning wife.
“Then kiss me Arthur,” she begs, biting her lower lip in anticipation.
Arthur closes his eyes and leans down, stretching his neck as far as he can. He waits for her soft lips to touch his, waits for the familiar intimacy of her kiss. He waits for the rest of his life. Alice pulls her blood stained knife from the bosom of her nightgown and swings it horizontally, cutting into Arthur’s vertebrae. Arthur goes limp as blood spurts from the wound, darkening Alice’s nightgown. She forcefully pulls the blade out and hacks again and again, her movements becoming more violent and convulsive with every slice; until finally, Arthur’s head falls to the floor with a satisfying thump.
Alice smiles down at her husband and takes a deep, freeing breath. She begins to spin around, arms outstretched, and yells “My soul is free! I am free!” over and over until she collapses in a heap of giddy laughter.
“One last grave to dig,” she chuckles to the inert head beside her. She picks up her shovel and stabs it forcefully into the ground. She works tirelessly, adrenaline pumping as she moves past Arthur’s former prey, digging deeper and deeper into the earth.
“You deserve to be as close to hell as possible, you bastard,” she growls as her shovel cuts into the soft mulch. Soon, she drops her shovel and looks over at Arthur. “It’s time,” she mutters, a huge grin plastered on her face. She hoists herself out of the hole and gingerly picks up Arthur’s head. She caresses his face one last time and then lobs it into the pit. Then, she takes her knife and saws tirelessly at his hands and legs until they are released him from his chains. She drags his body to the pit and throws it in a heap on top of his lifeless head. She begins to cover the grave, feeling happier with every shovelfull of dirt she throws on his remains.
When she finishes, she drops the shovel on top of the grave and runs out of the room, door slamming behind her. She hurries up the rotting wooden spiral staircase for the last time. She turns to close the grave, but she lingers, remembering all of the trauma and horror that unfurled in the chamber below her. The memories flash until she bundles them together in her mind and breathes out heavily, as if she was releasing them into the grave. The gravestone slides across the earth, locking in her memories. She turns to look at the fresh new world in front of her. She never looks back.