Eyes Are The Windows To The Soul, so Time To Window Dress

Published July 23, 2012 by marindaliza♥

Hello my darling followers!

Hope you’re all doing well this Monday afternoon!

So I’m not sure if I’ve told you this before, but I am currently studying to be a makeup artist and my favourite part of making up any face is doing the eyes. To me eyes are the most important part of a person’s face.

I’m personally not a huge fan of lipstick because nothing suits me very much. I wouldn’t have minded to be one of those blonde, fair-skinned girls who pull a red lippy off like Marilyn Monroe or Scarlette Johanson, but alas, I was born with a yellow undertone and uneven lips, so it just won’t work.

Anyway back to my point.

Your eyes are the windows to your soul and should speak volumes about who you are right? Well I’ve compiled a whole bunch of different eye makeup I find absolutely breathtaking!

Here they are:

Hope you found that as visually stimulating as I found it!

Monday’s almost over ♥

Happy week peeps

♥Marinda Liza ♥

Friday the 13th – And a lucky day it will be!

Published July 13, 2012 by marindaliza♥

Hello my darling followers!

Hope you’re all doing fantastically!

Soooo as you all know I’m not exactly normal (and if you didn’t know that then I guess you know it now) and basically I see Friday the 13th as a sort of Christmas day.

Maybe it’s my mindset giving off the placebo effect making me think that the day of bad luck actually has the exact opposite on me, but whatever, I’m not complaining! I’ve met some amazing people on this day before, partied till I was sick the next day (read: the NEXT day lol) and generally I always just seem to be in the brightest of moods.

Anyway today is pretty awesome because in South Africa (where I live), it’s a moody and cold day and apparently there’s a chance of rain, so YAY me!

Back to business though, have you ever actually had any BAD luck on Friday the 13th? I have yet to find anyone I know who might have gotten stabbed, mugged, hit by a car or bitten by some dangerous and poisonous spider, so my guess is that you’re all pretty damn lucky already!

Anyway to brighten the day for those dreaded and pesky non-believers, here are some cool fact I’ve compiled of the day, so enjoy!

  • On Friday the 13th, 1979, a black cat crossed the path of Houston football player Tony Frisch and was accidentally kicked 67 yards for a world record.
  • On Friday the 13th in 1962 a Colorado couple, while watching Channel 13 in the honeymoon suite of a Las Vegas motel, were crushed to death by a falling mirror.
  • On Friday the 13th in 1957 a duck hunter, wearing a rabbit’s foot around his neck while hunting near 12-Gauge, Texas, was kicked to death by a giant 3-legged jack rabbit.
  • This year is a special one for Friday the 13ths: There are three of them: Jan. 13, April 13 and July 13. The freaky thing? The dates fall exactly 13 weeks apart. That hasn’t happened since 1984.
  • The next year in which we’ll have three Friday the 13ths is 2015. They’ll fall in February, March and November.
  •  President Franklin D. Roosevelt is said to have avoided travel on the 13th day of any month, and would never host 13 guests at a meal. Napoleon and President Herbert Hoover were also triskaidekaphobic, with an abnormal fear of the number 13.
  • Fear of Friday the 13th dates back to Nordic Mythology.  Many of their thirteenth Gods met with violent deaths, such as Loki, the trickster.
  • A witches coven consists of 13 members.
  • Triskaidekaphobia is the technical name for fear of Friday the 13th.
  • The Chinese, Pagans and others in ancient times marked time by the lunar cycle and calendar, thus 13 was considered a very lucky number.
  • A baker’s dozen consists of 13 for a reason! So the story goes a
    witch near Albany, NY demanded 13 items every time she came in to a particular bakery, and one day the old baker could not afford her extra biscuit. She sneered some strange words at the man, and he suffered terrible luck from then on, until he brought her another 13 rolls. After that life was once again easy for the baker and word spread around town. The custom is still sometimes practiced today.

    Have a happy and lucky day further peeps!

    ♥Marinda Liza♥

A New Post – About F*cking Time Too

Published May 23, 2012 by marindaliza♥

Hey peeps!

So, I AM still alive!

If you were wondering where I’ve been, check out my blog on poutperfection.com here: http://poutperfection.com/2012/05/14/a-fresh-return-after-an-ugly-breakup/

Basically, I needed a little R&R after a messy breakup, but I’m back, so hope you’re ready to see more of your favourite party girl again!

I’m going to be posting a lot on what I’ve been up to this past while, where I’ve partied, what I’ve seen, music I like, movies I’ve seen, etc etc… So keep your eyes on this space.

On a total different topic, I’ve finally decided on a hair colour that suits me and now I’m a bright shade of red, which is an awesome colour to stick to in winter (yes it’s winter in South Africa now) as it doesn’t fade as easily.

So yea Redheads have more fun, I’ve decided.

Left: Robyn (my bestie) Right: Yours Truly

You like?

I have a lot of people telling me I should go back to the black, others say I should stick to a chocolate brown. Blegh. I don’t want to be normal. I mean, I’m NOT normal. If I had the time and patience for it I’d be sporting pink and purple hair with one side shaved off a la Cindy Lauper 1985… just saying!

Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your work now…

Cheerio for now!

♥Marinda Liza♥

From Black hair to… ginger?

Published November 29, 2011 by marindaliza♥

Hey peeps, hope you’re all doing well!

 So this is my first ever attempt at doing my own blog, so bear with me here…

Last week was also my very first attempt at doing the whole “blonde” thing after having black hair for almost 3 years. Yea, stupid move, I know, but I’m a terribly impulsive person and, well, as usual, doing something on impulse is a risk I took that nearly cost me losing my hair.

THANK GOSH I didn’t because somehow I don’t think the Sinead O’Connor look would have suited me much…

Anyway, so my sister helped me strip it, but to my horror, the top came out platinum blonde and the tips came out, uh… red. So I looked like a skunk. SO not a good look for me and the chemist where I had bought the stripper (teehee stripper…) had already closed! Luckily I had some Aubyn hair dye lying around, so we then dyed it over my hair… which made me a ginger.

So there you have my excuse. Hopefully I’ll be getting more stripper (teehee!) soon and the blonde will actually show all over my hair, but in the meantime this is what I will look like…


Have a kick-ass Tuesday!


Scottburgh Mermaid

Published August 9, 2011 by marindaliza♥

Dear Journal

 September 27 – A Day of the unexpected

I arrived with my parents in Scottburgh in the early hours of yesterday morning. It was odd, waking up to the humidity the ocean brought to the air thatJohannesburgdidn’t have. My mom kept calling my name – which is Steven, by the way – waking me up even though I was clutching my pillow, hoping if I pull it over my ears she would disappear and let me sleep longer.

Belinda is a stubborn woman though and turned the radio up loud so I would wake up frustrated. “You can’t sleep now, Steven, we’re here and we need you to help us unpack.” She said. Of course my dad, Christian nodded in agreement and as we parked at the rented cottage, I got up and helped unpack.

When I was finally done, my parents decided to go buy take-out. I decided I might as well go check out the beach. I realised quickly that the little cottage was basically on the shore, with the exception of a mini-forest growing between the cottage and the crashing waves on the other side. I walked among the trees with fear pulsing in my veins, because this was Kwazulu Natal – a place well known for their poisonous snakes.

I reached the other side to find rocks the size of caravans sticking out among the smooth sea-sand on the shore and peered around them to see the calm ocean and for a split second I thought I saw a massive fin plop into the water. I shrugged. I knew I must have been imagining it. To my far left there was nothing to be seen for kilometres, except for the elderly person sunbathing. To my far right, there was a place with restaurants, little shops and people swarming the sea. It was definitely an easy walking distance for me, so I went back to the cottage, phoned my mom and let her know where I was going and changed into my swimming shorts before rushing down to the more “happening” side of the beach.

Hours went by and nothing interesting happened. A young girl with two braids got attacked by a bluebottle, but that was about my only entertainment for the day until a teenage girl came to stand by me and started talking. Alisha was her name and she was 16 years old, same as me. She asked me where I was from and how long I was staying. At first I thought she was being flirtatious, especially when she asked me to meet her friends, but there was a guy named Brandt that she introduced as her boyfriend. Among them were two other guys named Jason and Phillip and a girl called Nadine.

Nadine was really attractive with long braided blonde hair and a smile that shyly peeped out every now and then during the conversation, although she wasn’t talking much at all. They had asked me where I was from and what school I went to. It was all small talk until I told them about imagining a fin plop into the water and Brandt told me a story about a mermaid that lived among the Scottburgh waves. “Humour me.” I said, holding back a grin. “I’m actually serious.” He said. “There’s a story about her among the locals. We call her Silvia; she has bright shiny silver hair and caramel coloured skin, but she’s only been properly spotted by sailors who’ve died at sea.”“How would you know what she looked like, if the only ones who’ve seen her are dead?” Nadine said suddenly, laughing. Brandt pursed his lips and shrugged. “Those are the stories anyway.”

The rest of the day was spent that way and I noticed Nadine coming more and more out of her shell. She also seemed ecstatic when Phillip (who I now knew was her brother), insisted that she teach me how to surf. We went up to the shore and she taught me a few tricks, her beautiful smile breaking though her milky-pink lips every time I fell, making me want to fall more often. My pride got the better of me though, and eventually I managed to stay on the board at least long enough to see her smile triumphantly, which, I decided, was a much prettier sight. When we got back to her friends it was already late and they decided to pack up. “Will I see you again tomorrow?” Nadine asked and I felt a strange sensation in my stomach that made me blush. I looked away quickly before she thought I was weird – after all, guys don’t blush! I cleared my throat. “Sure, same time and place? Maybe I’ll be able to stay on the board a full minute?” I joked awkwardly. “We’ll see.” She teased and then went off to join her friends.

The next day was also fun and I actually did manage to stay on the board longer. Nadine bought me an ice-cream to celebrate and made a big fuss about it to her friends. “Well done dude!” Jason said and I realised it was the only thing he’d said since I met him – the rest of the time he was either in the water or stuffing his face with “boerie” rolls that were extremely cheap at a stand close by.

Although we had a great day, the fun was spoilt soon when the lifeguards warned everyone that there was a shark hazard at around 17:00. I saluted my friends –including Nadine who looked upset about my leaving – and walked home.

When the beach was almost clear and there was nothing but the crashing waves to hear, I decided to sit on the beach between to the rocks near the cottage. I knew the lifeguards would complain and shoo me away if they saw me there, so I squeezed myself in a tight space, so that even my shadow was invisible to anyone if they passed by. I sat there and stared out at the ocean. The smell of the sand and water was hypnotising and after a few minutes I was asleep.

*     *     *     *     *     *

I was woken when I heard a scraping noise on the rocks above me. I woke suddenly, alarmed at the noise and jerked my head up, but the rocks were too big and blocked my view. I heard a loud thump and then a splash. I pulled myself higher to glimpse at what had made the noise, but all I saw was a bright green fin disappearing into the water. I hopped onto the rock to get a better look when impulse got the better of me and I found myself jumping into the water fully-clothed, only to see the fin rush away faster with a cloth of silver floating beside it. Were the rumours true? I had no choice but to chase after her and find out.

I swam and swam, coming up for air when I needed it and quickly rushed back down, making sure I didn’t take my eyes off of her. I could have sworn I saw a face of a woman when I went back in for the third time; she was looking for me, checking if I’d given up. I hadn’t and the deeper she went now, the deeper I did. When I was about to go up for my sixth or seventh breath, something stopped me dead where I was. I could feel the blood wash away from my face and I was curtain white. Three massive shark fins surrounded me and I was too afraid to go back in and see. I looked around me and I realised that I was probably 150 kilometres away from the rocks I had been standing at not too long ago. I remember swearing at my incredible ability to swim and started laughing manically at my sarcastic inner joke, but also because I knew there was no way I was going to survive. I was getting hysterical.

Just then, one shark jumped up out of the water like I’d seen so many times on The Discovery Channel and I winced. I trembled all over my body as I realised that it had jumped straight over me. I suddenly grasped with sheer terror that it hadn’t been one of the three terrifying monsters surrounding me, it was one that came up from far below and its jump made the rest more eager to get at me. I was the prize in this tug of war now. I had the image of Jack Russell puppies fighting for a piece of chicken meat in my mind now, not seeming as cute, as I thought about being the piece of chicken. I knew this was the end, so I closed my eyes and suddenly as I was drained of all energy. Then I felt warm skin grabbing hold of my ice-cold flesh and smelt someone’s breath that smelt strongly of cinnamon pancakes before I drifted off sleepily.

When I woke, I was on a massive rock, not too far away from the small one across the strip of forest I’d recognise was in front of our cottage. The air was warm and humid, I could feel the slight breeze of the night air brushing my hair as I lay staring at the stars in the sky. It felt like I had just gotten the best sleep of my life, not that I’d just been scared half to death. I wondered how long I’d been lying there. I wondered how I’d gotten there in the first place. Was it the silver-haired mermaid?

I sat up slowly, letting my mind form the pictures slowly. Then I saw her. The silhouette of her would always stay with me. She sat facing the ocean, her long and full silvery hair was being blown by the breeze, her long arms out at her sides as she held on to the rock like she was about to sprint back down at any minute. The skin on her back and arms was the colour of caramel and the texture looked like it had been carved from porcelain. Her fins were the most incredible of all though; long and green, but it didn’t look slimy like fish fins, more like a scaly reptiles’. She sat on her fins like a human would sit on their haunches and the end of the fin was tapping the rock in front of me, like a human would tap their fingers if they were impatient.

Then she turned. Her face was the colour of caramel, just as the rest of her skin was, just as Brandt had described it. Her eyes were so light that it was hard to tell whether they were an icy blue or a pearl white and they were very big. Her nose was perfectly sculpted into a tiny form, almost pinched at the end and her lips were surprisingly thin considering she was actually a fish. She fluttered her eyelashes for a fraction of a second and turned to lie down on her stomach. I thought she was going to flinch away and maybe even dash into the water when she saw me wake, but she did the opposite and in her massive light eyes, I could sense a hint of worry. She stretched out her right arm to touch my hair and I felt my heart racing a million times faster. Her hands weren’t normal. They were the same cinnamon colour as the rest of her body and almost looked like human hands until it came close to my face and I could see that her fingers were webbed together. I sucked in a breath of surprise and she smiled at me before brushing my hair out of my face. Her lips stretched across her face to reveal her perfect white pearly teeth and suddenly she turned back the way she was and jumped off the high rock. Then, she was gone.

Was I going to tell Nadine and Brandt and the others that Silvia was real?

I’ll think about it, but for now I’m just enjoying being alive after a mermaid saved my life.

The Immerti Possessions

Published August 4, 2011 by marindaliza♥

Valerie wiped the sweat off of her forehead with a handkerchief. The 13 year old boy who had been possessed with a demon had clawed the armrests of the wooden office chair so bad that you could see the deep scratch marks on the chair and deep red cuts on his arms from the rope holding him stationary. Right now though, he looked exhausted as he sat huffing and puffing with his eyes closed and his head tilted back. “Donavon,” whispered the boy’s mother, her bright blue eyes wide with worry, “Are you there boy?” She moved closer and he groaned before opening his eyes. “Is it…gone?” he asked as he looked at Valerie with concern.
Val nodded once. The mother of the boy shot up and grabbed her in her arms and started crying on Valerie’s shoulder. “Thank you! Thank you!” she cried.

Valerie assured the boy and his mother that the exorcism was not a guarantee that the demon wouldn’t come back, they nodded and acknowledged this before Val got on her blue Vespa scooter and drove off to her small hotel room in the heart of Italy.

She put the kettle on and made herself a cup of coffee before sitting at her desk with the writing lamp fixed upon her paperwork. She looked over at the digital clock that said it was 1pm, despite the blackness of the sunless day. It wasn’t the first black day they had experienced in Italy either. It had easily been a week and a half that the sun had not come up. The news proclaimed it was some form of global warming, but those who knew something of it had said nothing.

Valerie Ackerman was one of them. She was a born and bred British exorcist who had moved to Italy when she had heard about the coming darkness. She was a student of The Magical Arts College in London and had studied Exorcism for 3 years. One of her assignments involved moving to a city where demons were attacking most and monitor their behaviour and it was just her –if you can say it like that – luck that Italy was having one of the grossest amounts of demon-possession they had had in over 200 years.

Val’s cellphone rang. “Hello?”
“Val, Jonathon here. How did the exorcism go?” Jonathon Small was Valerie’s best friend. He was studying Herbology at the same school and decided it would be a great opportunity to explore Italy, so he accompanied her on her trip. “I can’t be sure,” she said, staring at the paperwork she was supposed to report her last exorcism on. It stood blank except for the questions that were pre-printed that she needed to answer. “The boy seemed fine, the mother was ecstatic, but the demon made it sound like the boy had been possessed by a demon before it got there. It kept telling me ‘Salavor’ had been right and that ‘Salavor’ saw that this boy was special. The mother told me symptoms only started occurring about 3 months ago and he hadn’t been possessed before.”
“You don’t think the demon was just talking about itself in the third person?”
“Maybe,” she said, “It never mentioned its name.”
“Did you look at the home surroundings?” he asked.
“Yes. It’s an old hotel actually.”
There was a long silence as Jonathon thought. “Any strange plants?” Valerie rolled her eyes. “Are you actually suggesting that plant-demons are toying with the boy?”
“Yes.” he said simply. “There are demons called Immerti who possess plants. They make turns in possessing a person; it’s almost like a hobby for them. I’m surprised you didn’t know this Miss Exorcism.” Jonathon mocked.
She thought for a second and she had to admit to herself that it had been stupid of her not to think of it. Then a terrible thought occurred to her, Immerti demons multiplied like cockroaches and fed off of the young, leaving behind a dark cloud over the house of the children whenever they were done.
“I think we know what’s causing the darkness then.” said Jonathon.

* * * * *

That evening Jonathon and Valerie decided to go out for a drink with Marian Ranger, who was also studying exorcism with Val. It hadn’t been a great idea on Jonathon’s part as it was pouring quite heavily with rain. They met up in a secluded jazz café and Valerie had taken her notes with her. They found a quiet spot in the corner and Marian went over Val’s notes about the boy and the two other exorcism cases she had worked on.

“All these kids are under 18.” she said.
Valerie nodded. “All three were blonde boys too. Do you think there’s a connection?”
Marian frowned and looked at the notes she had scribbled. “I never noticed before, but I’ve also only exercised blonde teens between the ages of 13 and 18. All boys.”
“Immerti?” Jonathon asked, taking a sip from his rum and raisin.
“Sounds about right,” said Marian, “but why would they only attack boys?”
“Who knows?” Jonathon said, “Does anyone know why they only attack teens?”
“Actually yes,” said Val, “They catch on with teenage depression and make teens hallucinate and hear voices.”
“Yes, they’re normally comforting. They tell the teen what they want to hear and convince them not to tell anyone about the voice until it’s too late. Whereas kids unwillingly tell people about an imaginary friend and adults will confide in somebody like a doctor or a therapist.”
“Which takes us back to the question,” said Marian, before ordering a pizza to share and a long-island ice tea. “Why only blonde teenage boys?”

* * * * *

After a few days of research and two more exorcisms involving blonde teenage boys under her belt, Valerie received a phone call from Jonathon. “No forgetting my birthday now.” he said. Valerie felt her face go warm with embarrassment; she’d totally forgotten the date was the 17th of November, Jonathon’s 22nd birthday. “How are we celebrating?” she asked. “My place tonight, a white wine party.”

Valerie laughed at the idea of her, Jonathon and Marian dressing up for a white wine party at Jonathon’s hotel room. She imagined how silly it would look when they add the drunken photos on Facebook with the caption; “Apparently 3’s a party”. Nonetheless, she dressed in a beige halter neck dress, black waistcoat, black pumps and she tied her long brown hair back and knocked on Jonathon’s hotel room door, which was about 5 doors down from hers.

To her surprise Jonathon answered the door in a red bathrobe that would put Hugh Hefner’s to shame. She laughed, “You look ridiculous Jonathon!”
“I think you look amazing.”
Valerie had to do a double take. Her best friend was looking at her like she was the most incredible creature he’d ever laid his eyes on, the music exiting his room sounded like R&B and from what she could see Marian wasn’t there.
“Jonathon, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice uneasy. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Valerie shook her head and just walked in. A table was set up with a red tablecloth and red roses in the centre and roast chicken was served on two plates.
”Yummy!” she said in an exaggerated tone to lighten the mood, but it didn’t work. Valerie quickly realised that she was the only awkward one.
“Um,” she said and sat down, taking her notes out of her handbag. “I realised something abut the exorcisms.”
Jonathon wasn’t paying attention and walked to the kitchen. He came back holding a bottle of Merlot in his hands.
“The teens, they all had German parents. Most of their grandfathers were Nazi’s. I take it it’s like the demon’s way of being ‘righteous’.” she said and made hyphens in the air, “Their parents ran away from the grandparents years ago and immigrated here. Do you think there’s a connection?”

Jonathon finished pouring their glasses and looked at Valerie. “Val, why must you be so nosy?” he asked and set the bottle down. Valerie frowned. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked.
Suddenly Jonathon’s eyes became crimson, his glare focussed on Val and she dropped her notes. “This is all an illusion,” said a deep, dark voice that escaped Jonathon’s lips. “Jonathon’s not possessed. You are.”

Suddenly the room went black. Valerie felt the blood drain from her body and cold sweat dripped down her arms as she sat in a wooden armchair, tied with ropes. She shook and shuddered uncontrollably and next thing she knew she was facing Marian who was holding a bible in her hands, reading a verse from it she knew well.

“…for he had an only daughter, about twelve years old, and she was dying. As Jesus went, the people pressed around him…”

It was Luke 8:7 – the one she knew was used for exorcism.

Then it all went white. Valerie knew she wasn’t going to be a survivor and she knew it wasn’t just teenage boys the demon was attacking. It was teenagers with a liking for the supernatural, with German descendants, and 18 year old Valerie Ackerman was no exception.

The Vampire’s Midnight Snack

Published July 22, 2011 by marindaliza♥

I remember waking up feeling bewildered, scared and completely paralyzed as I stared up at the moon and the stars straight above me. I remember the hard stones and dirt that dug into my back and legs and the cold breeze that tickled against my naked skin as I lay there. If I could have frowned, it would probably have been the first thing I did, but all I could do was stare, with my eyes being the only part of me that was able to move at all.

Automatically I took in the scene, but it startled me so much more to come to the realization that the grey rocks that towered above me were not mere boulders, but gravestones.

I looked around, pulling my eyes as far to each side as possible, taking in a scene that just consisted of gravestones. I half expected a crazy murderer with an axe to walk my way, but nobody appeared. I listened carefully too, but all I could hear was the swooshing of the wind. What was I doing in a graveyard, paralyzed of all my senses? Clearly there was no logical explanation for something like that?

But not a second after my thought, I felt a burst of pain like a bolt of lightning shoot through my body, causing all of my limbs to lock me in a fetal position. I howled like a wild animal as my body suddenly contorted backward, almost snapping my back in half like it had a mind of its own. I screamed hysterically and my screams echoed against the darkness. Suddenly the pain stopped and I was rammed hard against the ground, the stones and dirt digging even more heavily into my naked skin, but not a second later my back suddenly rose on its own into midair, my limbs hung down and so did my head, lifeless.

“Ain’t she lovely Valentine?” I would have jumped at the sudden sound of the voice if I could, but instead I felt more scared than I thought was humanly possible. The voice was that of a man’s with a thick, rough Scottish accent. My eyes darted around frantically, but I couldn’t find the owner of the voice. “Hmm… She could do with a bit of extra meat on her bones, but I think she would make for an appetizing snack.” said another voice. This one was calmer and more sophisticated, also spoken by a man. If I thought I was scared before, it was nothing compared to what I had felt now. My body was probably numb, but my heart definitely wasn’t as it raced against my chest, sounding more and more like a stampede. There was no doubt these men were talking about me, because I definitely didn’t notice anyone else in sight and I was positive that nobody else was hovering in midair.

“Lower the girl Sullivan.” the man with the sophisticated voice said. “It’s, um, it’s Sully.” said the other. “What?” “That’s my name, Valentine. Call me Sully.” I heard the man called Valentine sigh loud and I wondered if his eyes rolled at the same time. “Lower the girl, Sully.” he said. I heard a loud bang when I dropped to the ground and I wasn’t sure if it was my back, but my paralysis had suddenly disappeared and I could feel every bruise on and in my frail body and I screamed like a banshee.

Sully laughed. “She’s a screamer too, eh?” he said excitedly and nudged Valentine when I finally caught sight of them from the ground. Sully wasn’t exactly what I was expecting. He was a thin young man with attractive boyish features and long blonde hair tied at the nape of his neck and looked pretty much like every other rebellious teenager in town. Valentine, on the other hand, had a strange look about him. He was tall and even more attractive than the young boy standing next to him with short, coiffed dark hair, but he was standing extraordinarily still in a suit that looked like it was made in the 18th century with frilly cuffs at the end of both sleeves and an old waistcoat that looked like it was bought at a party shop.

Valentine ignored Sully’s comment and waved a hand in the air in my direction as he stared at me. My pain seemed to vanish instantly. I gasped as the relief of it washed through my body. Then I remembered that I was naked and I quickly sat up and covered myself with my hands, arms and legs and stared down at the ground.

“No need to cover ‘em bits mitten, you ain’t got anything to show anyway.” Sully joked and handed me a blanket as he laughed. I looked up then, only to see a gold tooth of his glinting in the moonlight. I swallowed hard. Valentine suddenly smiled at me and my eyes nearly popped out my head as I looked up. Two of his top teeth were long and fanged like that of a lion’s. I screamed at the top of my lungs and jumped up, forgetting all about the blanket, not caring who saw me naked as I ran as fast as I could to what looked like the entrance of the cemetery.

I heard a crack and crunch and this time I was positive it was my back breaking as I was knocked off my feet and my back pushed completely forward into my chest on its own will again, puncturing my lungs and cutting off all air I was unable to breathe. Then, like I was some puppet being controlled by a sadistic puppeteer, I was spun around wildly and met Valentine and Sully’s glares. This time Sully was holding a long wooden stick that resembled something of a wand and was pointing it at me.

I wondered in my wake if anyone had heard my screaming. What did it matter now? I knew I was going to die.

“Enough Sullivan. I don’t play with my food.”

When I looked again, Valentine was next to me, pulling my hair and his mouth was at the nape of my neck.

“Geraldine Pollock,” he whispered my name “Tonight, you are given the honour of being a vampire’s midnight snack.”

Then it all went black.