Lair of the Carter Brothers

Sequel to QB MURDERED CHEERLEADER MISSING. Vampires keep Katie naked and alive to feed on her.

*

Author's note: The Carter brothers' legend is a well-known piece of "fakelore" in the New Orleans French Quarter. Tour guides who tell a good story can get a larger tip by pointing out the home of the vampires who cheated death in Louisiana's electric chair and escaped from their family crypt in St. Louis Cemetery. I have taken great liberties to move the tale from the 1930s to more contemporary 1990s and give victims a back story. Beginning in the first installment (QB Murdered Cheerleader Missing) I focused on the eighteen year old girl who later ... Well, let's not spoil the story for those who've never heard it, we will pick up where we left off. All characters in this story are eighteen years old or older. Enjoy the story flavored with my Creole seasoning.

*

"B-bbb-Bobb, Bobby!" she stammered as consciousness returned. Before she opened her eyes she screamed again, remembering the twisted body of her dying lover on the ground beside his car as she was carried into the air by...

"Don't do no good t' scream, child'." The voice was feminine, African and calm, the calm of hopelessness and defeat. The accent was unmistakably New Orleans.

Katie's eyes opened to a world of dark brown. It took several seconds for her to realize the room was illuminated only by a candle. Directly before her and on each side were the other people: Two white men, two white women and a black woman, all naked and tied in heavy wooden chairs. Wrapped around the black woman's arm was a bloody bandage.

"Don't do no good t' scream, child'," the black woman repeated. "Cain't no body hea' you. You remember you' name?"

"K, k, Katie."

"I's Molly. These gi'ls here are Julie and Beatty, the boys are Philippe and Bruce."

The nearest male nodded his head. Katie noticed that all of them had bandages wrapped around their forearms, some fresh, some bloody. Julie and Beatty had tubes in their nostrils; Feeding tubes, Katie realized, just like Grandpa had had in the hospital. But this was no hospital.

"Where are we?" Katie whispered.

Philippe looked at Molly before answering, "Hell, or somewhere near it. What do you remember?" His accent marked him as a New Orleanian also, but from the Garden District, probably a "private-school-and-trust-fund" family.

"My boyfriend..." Katie stammered. "He was... oh my God! It killed him!" She began to cry uncontrollably.

"Dey kille' my husban' too," Molly said, doing her best to sound calm. "But child', we still alive, an' we gots to keep ou' wits abou' us if we's gonna ge' outa here alive."

"They? Who are "they" and what's happening?" Katie begged.

Before anyone could answer Katie heard a door open behind her and tried to turn towards it. For the first time she realized that she too was tied in a sturdy wooden chair, her arms tied at the wrist to the arms of the chair and more ropes around her legs and waist.

The figures stepped into her view: Two young men, or so they appeared at first. They had the faces of young men, but their hair was white as snow. Candle light revealed them to be thin, gaunt, pale and almost corpse-like and dressed from the neck down in black. One of them roughly touched her forehead, bending her neck back to look at her eyes. His hand was icy, like meat from a refrigerator.

"Is she enough for both of us?" the other figure growled. Her eyes moved to focus on him. He was almost identical to the man touching her, but a good half foot taller.

"I think so" said the first, holding a razor blade to her arm. Katie was too scared to scream as it slit her flesh. The man handed the blade to his brother and fixed his lips over the cut.

It felt like the blood was being sucked out of her from head to toe, and Katie felt the room spin around her. Or was she spinning? She felt the blade slice into her other arm and another set of lips fasten over the cut. Blackness again swallowed her as she lost consciousness.

"Katie Boudreau!" snapped Sister Elizabeth. "Stop daydreaming and answer the question!"

"Mmm, mmm, Macbeth!" Katie stammered. Everyone in the classroom was looking at her.

"Very good. Stand up please," the old nun replied. She wasn't wearing the dark gray habit of her order: She was dressed in the white dress and headpiece of a novice in spite of her forty-nine years in the service of God.

Katie looked down at her desk and realized that she was naked except for the athletic shoes and pompom socks on her feet. I must be dreaming she thought.

"Katie, please stand up." All the students stared in silence. Hesitating, she complied.

Sister Elizabeth extended her left hand toward Katie's pubic area. Katie tried to look away as the aged fingers touched her labia then drew back. The silence of her classmates was positively audible.

"Look at me, dear," said the nun, in a tone of sad kindness. Katie looked at the blood on the nun's fingers as Elizabeth held it next to her face. "Have you given your purity to Bobby?"

"No, Ma'am, they..." It occurred to Katie that Bobby had been killed before he could penetrate her. She wondered why there was blood if she was still a virgin. I must be dreaming she reminded herself.

"They what, dear?" Katie's eyes fixed directly on the cool blue eyes of her teacher.

"They killed Bobby before he could take me, Sister."

"Who or what are 'they,' dear?"

"I don't know, Sister."

"Go back and find out, Katie. Go now." The room went dark.

*

Katie moaned and opened her eyes to the sight of Philippe leaning as close as his own bonds would allow. "Welcome back to the lair," he growled.

She tried to move and found she had been tied even more tightly than before. Leaning forward and trying to straighten her knees she was able to see that her feet were bare and her ankles bound to the legs of her chair somewhat more loosely than her wrists were to the arms.

"I dreamed of Sister Elizabeth..."

"Of St. Genesius High?" Philippe asked.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"She was my teacher ten years ago. I'm Philippe Trufont. How'd you do in her English Lit class?" Katie had heard her parents talk about the Trufont family: Old money and lots of it. How did he wind up here?

"B plus for the first semester," Katie said looking around. Molly seemed to be asleep, as was Bruce. One of the other women was also slumped forward in her bonds, the other was missing. Philippe anticipated the question.

"They fed on you first. By the time they got to me I guess they were full."

"Who... What... what are they?"

"They're vampires."

Her mind tried to wrap itself around the idea. "There's no such thing."

"I used to think that. Imagine my surprise when they brought me here."

"How long..."

"Have I been here? Don't know. They've fed on me more than anyone here, seven times. I don't know why I'm still alive either. I think Beatty died when they drank her today; they untied her and carried her out after they felt her neck."

"Where did they take her?"

"Don't know. There were three guys here when I was brought in, and they went out just like Beatty."

It dawned on Katie that everyone in the room was bare-assed naked. There was nothing sensual about it, nor was there any way to cover herself. She thought she might be blushing, but was too weak to be sure. Then she noticed that not only was she cold but soaking wet from her hair to her feet.

"Why do they keep us naked?" she asked.

"Same reason we don't dress cows and pigs on their way to slaughter I guess. They must have noticed the smell 'cause they came in and poured water over us after they fed." Philippe squirmed in his bonds "I guess I should be grateful for small favors. The urine smell was getting pretty bad."

"You mean..."

"We live in our own filth. They alternate: First they cut us, then they come in and pour some kind of goop down our throats and occasionally they wash us. Julie and Beatty fought it so they came back and put nasal gastric tubes in them and fed them with a syringe." He paused then continued "I haven't seen anyone shit since I've been here, so I guess the 'food' is designed to digest easy and keep us hydrated so they can keep drinking our blood. Beatty died after that last feeding so they must have dumped her somewhere by now."

"Philippe?" asked Katie.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think we'll ever... I mean... could we... could we try to escape?"

"Bruce and I tried to break these chairs and to untie each other's wrists. Didn't work."

Katie bowed her head.

"Don't give up, girl!" Philippe ordered. "As long as we're alive there's hope."

"Thank you, Philippe" Katie mumbled as she turned her head toward him. Without meaning to her eyes fixed on his limp penis lying on his left thigh and she started to giggle.

"What's funny?" he asked.

"I was just thinking that I've only seen one other dick and..." the image of Bobby mouthing "Katie... I love..." flashed into her mind and her smile disappeared. "And he's dead. These monsters killed him." She gave herself over to sobbing and tears. Philippe made no further effort to speak to her until the brothers returned.

*

The next time "the brothers" fed they started with Philippe and skipped Molly after examining her eyes. Katie had to watch as they saved her for last. When she woke again Molly engaged her in conversation until Bruce and Philippe came around.

Molly had been taken off her own doorstep and her husband killed in a manner not too different from Bobby's death. Bruce had accepted a drink from a stranger in a gay bar and awoke in the lair. Philippe had dropped his step brother off after a Saints game just before something reached out of the back seat to seize him. If Julie ever regained consciousness she never said a word, but Molly had spoken to her and told Katie about Julie's capture on a late night jog through the Garden District.

Sitting around naked was uncomfortable, but "the brothers" never seemed to be aroused by the nudity. Bruce and Philippe were too weak to get erections. Molly didn't make any comments about it even when Katie rested her eyes on her large breasts and pot belly. Katie thought Molly must be a "big beautiful black woman" in real life, maybe a size sixteen with triple-D breasts.

Katie also thought Philippe must be right, that these monsters viewed them as nothing more than cattle. She lapsed in and out of consciousness after each cutting, and sometimes she dreamed.

"Katie," she heard Sister Elizabeth again.

"Yes, ma'am," Katie replied, looking up to see her mentor in a white habit again. Katie was also aware of her own nakedness, but this time she felt no shame.

"Do not loose hope, dear," said the vision. "I am praying for you."

"Sister?"

"Yes, child?"

"Bobby..."

"His sins were forgiven, child. Your sins are forgiven. Be strong. You will escape." The old nun took both of Katie's hands and pulled her body closer as if she were going to hug...

The brothers woke her to examine her eyes again.

"Well?" said the tall one.

"Save her for last again," said the other moving on to Julie.

*

Katie woke after the fourth cutting. Something felt different about her right wrist. She looked to see the knots were not as tight as usual. She began to work her arm back and fourth. It became obvious that one hand was never going to undo the knots. She looked to Philippe who was beginning to move.

"Philippe!" she hissed. He opened his eyes.

"Help me!" she whispered.

Philippe extended his fingers. He was close enough to barely touch the knot as Katie struggled, but it was enough to hold one strand steady as she worked the other. In seconds her hand was free.

With one hand free she was able to work the knots off her left wrist and bend forward to untie her feet.

"Can you walk, Philippe?" she whispered as she reached for his ropes.

"No."

She tugged and started working the knot anyway. "No" he repeated. "Too weak. Go get help."

For a second she transfixed her eyes on his. Then, realizing he was right she stood up only to be overwhelmed by dizziness as the floor rose up to hit her face. She felt the blood erupt from her nose but managed to raise herself up on her hands and knees to crawl to the door. She glanced back over her naked hips at her others, of whom only Philippe was conscious. "Go!" he snapped and she raised her hand to the door knob.

The door swung open almost despite her feeble effort, not because of it. She crawled through it into a narrow, dark hall. Daylight trickled in from a stairwell to her right and she crawled toward it. The stairs led down to another door.

Grabbing the handrail she pulled herself to her feet and stepped onto the first step, lost her balance and her grip. She rolled head over naked ass down what seemed like a hundred steps landing in a heap against the door. Without touching the knob it gave way and she fell out onto a cement step.

"Wow!" a male voice called. "Wow! Oh, uh..."

Katie lolled on her bruised back, blood running from her nose as she looked up at the young man in an LSU sweat shirt with a beer in his hand and a blond woman in an LSU sweater under his other arm. Behind them Katie read a sign that said "Bourbon St."

The couple dropped to their knees beside her, realizing simultaneously how hurt she was. "Be calm lady," said the man as he pulled out a cell phone. "I'm calling 911 now. Just lie still."

"Dave! Look at her arms!" snapped the blond woman.

"Hello, operator I'm on Bourbon Street and a woman just fell down a flight of stairs at..." as he turned to read the house number Katie saw Sister Elizabeth standing behind him in her white habit. The thought flashed through Katie's mind that she was dreaming. The smell of spilled beer was new to any dream she'd ever had and she decided she was awake.

"The others, Katie," said the glowing nun.

"The others!" Katie shouted, grabbing the blond around the neck with both arms. The woman wrapped her arms around Katie and lifted her into a seated position, cradling her like a crying child. Katie felt the rough fibers of the sweater against her sensitive breasts and hugged tighter.

"Upstairs!" she shouted at the man. "Help them! They're in worse shape than I am!"

The man spoke into his cell phone. "Did you hear her, operator? I don't know. Stay with me, I'm going in to check." He turned to his companion: "Stay with her! The cops are coming, but I'm gonna see what's up there!"

"Be careful!" snapped the blond, almost shouting over Katie's sobs. Through her tears Katie saw a crowd gathering and Sister Elizabeth turning her back and walking away.

The next few minutes were a blur of blue police uniforms and shouting paramedics, a stretcher and ambulance ride, bright lights and people in scrubs shouting, poking and probing her. A needle went into her right arm and a cold intravenous fluid moved through it. Morphine brought a merciful sleep.

*

"Hail Mary, full of grace, pray for us, sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Hail Mary, full of grace, pray for us, sinners, now and at ... She's awake!"

Katie's father's voice rang out and echoed in the hospital room as her mother dropped to her knees next to him. They both grabbed her left arm. Katie became aware of others moving around the room, men and women in scrubs and lab coats.

"Hi mom. I'm sorry..."

"We know, Baby. It's all OK." Her mother was holding back tears.

"Philippe and the others... are they safe?"

"One of the women didn't survive. The other one is in the bed next to you" said her father. Katie turned to see Molly, with another black woman, apparently a relative from the resemblance to Molly, sitting next to her. Molly was still unconscious but the other woman smiled.

Katie turned back to her parents. "Bruce and Philippe?"

"In the next room, they're gonna be fine" her mother replied.

Katie looked around. "Where is Sister Elizabeth?"

"Sister Elizabeth?" her mother queried.

"She was behind the couple that found me on Bourbon Street. And she was wearing a white habit, not her gray one."

"Katie..." her mom choked and her father finished the sentence. "Sister Elizabeth died the day the police found Bobby's body. Father O'Flaherty found her in the St. Genesius chapel when she didn't meet him for lunch. She was kneeling in front of the altar with her rosary in her hand. Apparently she went there as soon as she was told about Bobby..."

Whatever else her dad said Katie didn't hear. It was drowned out by Bobby's voice. "Katie... I love you." Standing at the door were two figures. One was Bobby; no longer broken and dying but tall and glowing in a blue St. Genesius jersey. Beside him was a glowing white Sister Elizabeth, no longer old but still recognizable.

"It will be a while before you join us, Katie," Bobby said. Sister Elizabeth tugged at his arm then looked at Katie. "But we'll never be far away. Goodbye dear" she said. Both of them turned and disappeared into a white light.

Definitely NOT the end