High Moon

Foreword: The Indian Girl is of course a Native American girl, it just didn't feel right to use the modern terminology when talking about her.

Also I would love to get your comments on this piece or any other piece I posted around here.

1.

The town's name has no importance; it's just another new settlement in the middle of the Wild West.

The single dusty main street, burnt by the relentless sun, is bordered by the typical saloon, the typical church and the typical sheriff's office. Surrounding these essential commodities the regular shops of hardware have grown like weed to fix the needs of the wilderness. The moon is high in the sky but the town hasn't fallen asleep yet.

The saloon is pretty crowded tonight as the miners just got their pay. Behind the bar, Gertrud Weber observes her little dominion. She's happy as she usually makes most of her profits on nights like this one. She smiles.

Five of the eight tables are occupied by poker games. A very large trapper, which goes by the nickname of The Grizzly, is sitting at one of them. Gertrud can feel that the small professional player that is slowly taking the upper hand won't make it through the night. The Grizzly doesn't like to lose. But the Grizzly hasn't noticed yet that the small man is skimming him and he has already drank his fair share of liquor, so The Grizzly is happy. He smiles.

In the most remote corner of the saloon, below the small staircase, the largest table of the house is occupied by the greasy carcass of old Sean O'Connor. In front of him stands his bottle of twelve years old whiskey imported directly from the dark valleys of Scotland. O'Connor owns the mine, he also owns the large ranch in the outskirts of town, in a way or another everyone works for old O'Connor. He technically owns the town. His wealth makes him happy. He smiles too.

By the crumbling piano a small Indian girl is sitting on a high stool. She has no family, no tribe, she doesn't speak but she observes. She observes how the so called civilization has taken everything from her and she is angry, she doesn't smile. She waits; she waits for the balance to be restored. And if her short life has taught her anything, it's patience.

The other tables are occupied by the usual crowd, miners, trappers, gunslingers. The cheap grain alcohol Gertrud brews at the back of the saloon has been pouring all night. The tension in the air is palpable but as long as the money comes out of the pockets of the workers and into Gertrud's, the old German whore doesn't care if a few men decide to have a bit of a fist play. It's part of the trade.

The rooms in the first floor are all occupied and there's a long line of dirty, smelly and filthy men waiting in line on the stairs to get a moment of ecstasy in the arms of one of the girls.

Yet tonight, one girl is missing.

Many men wonder where sweet little Dixie has gone.

Sweet little Dixie; youngest daughter of the McCrery family was left orphan after the bloody Indian raid last spring.

To the old hag's usual customers' delight the young girl was been greeted by Gertrud into her flock.

Dixie's tender manners and smooth skin made her one of the jewels of Gertrud's selection. The miners wouldn't hesitate to pay a little extra to have the privilege of sharing her bed.

But tonight, on this busy night, many are disappointed.

Gertrud doesn't seem to care...

***

Not so far from away from the town, there's an unmarked grave in the middle of the plain.

A coyote attracted to it by the prospect of an easy meal, wanders around the disturbed soil. The proud animal sniffs it, turns around it for a while and soon, feeling the presence of some unnatural force, runs away. The coyote is a wise creature in contact with the very soul of the wild. The coyote knows when it is a good time to leave. Humans on the other hand have long lost this ability to feel the disturbance in the natural order of things...

At first, under the full moon, nothing happens. But soon the dirt starts to tremble, something is trying to dig its way out, something is trying to leave the cold embrace of the earth. Suddenly, three fingers rise above the ground, they are followed by a full hand, an arm, a shoulder and finally a face covered in the red dirt of the plain. The face is one of a young woman, a young beautiful woman. But the woman's traits are altered by fear and hate. Her eyes, blue as the clear water of a bursting spring just a few days before, are now burning with the fires of hell.

This is what she has brought back with her, Hell...

***

The head resting on the large pile of pelts he plans on selling tomorrow in town, Eli is asleep by a small pond. By his side the remnants of his dinner, a small rabbit, are slowly combusting in the dying fire. The flask of homemade liquor is empty by his side. Just by his hand, a beautiful peacemaker rests, full of deadly promises. A bit further away, his old and clever horse is unsettled.

There's something wrong coming this way, the animal thinks. He tries to pull on its leash but Eli is always careful when it comes to his horse and the knot will not come off. The horse complains but his master is far too drunk tonight to hear the warning.

On the other side of the clearing a ghostly figure enters the pond. The water around it turns red with the dirt. The figure dives into the freezing water. Soon it resurfaces a bit further away. The face, now cleaned of the dirt and confusion, rises towards the pale light of the moon. She seems to sniff the wind. She turns towards the fading circle of light at the center of Eli's camp.

She gets out of the water and approaches the nervous horse. As she has done it many times before with her father's animals, she lays a hand on the front of the animal and grabs his large nostrils. She bends forward, pressing her cheek against the warm coat of the horse's head and whispers to his hear.

"Help me, help me do right," she repeats.

The sweet and tender voice of the women slowly subjugates the animal. There's now an unbreakable bond between the two creatures.

She then kneels by the fire to dry her wet naked body at the heat of the still red embers. For a long time she observes her pale fingers. Finally she grabs one of the half chewed rabbit bones and sniffs it. She's so hungry. She sticks the bone in her mouth but the taste repulses her. She spits it out. She looks at the bone. She used to love rabbit.

Eli has finally woken up. In a reflex he has grabbed his revolver but the sight in front of him has taken all his wits away. A beautiful naked woman kneeling by his fire in the middle of nowhere, he has fantasized about it a thousand times, but it has never happened, it can't happen. This must be a dream.

The woman turns around. He knows her; she works for that old German hag that runs the brothel in the town downriver.

"Dixie?"

The woman recognizes the name.

"Dixie, what are you doing here?"

But the woman doesn't answer; she looks at him. The fog of the alcohol is still all over his mind. Is he dreaming?

"Dixie, what happened to you?"

The young woman crawls towards him, she lays by his side passing an arm around his chest.

"I'm cold," she whispers.

Eli puts his gun back in its holster, he grabs the blanket that has rolled on his feet and covers the naked girl. The girl curls up even more against him as if she wanted to take all the warmth from him. Her tiny cold hand slips below his shirt. Her fingers are cold. He can't help himself from having an erection.

"I'm hungry," she continues.

Her hand is now slowly moving down Eli's belly. It slips inside his pants, gently wraps the turgescent manhood. Eli jumps. She starts slowly stroking him, up and down, and up, and down again. Eli who, for the last eight months, has been holed up in the mountains far, far away from the touch of a woman quickly shrugs and comes. The woman looks at her fingers covered in the man's offering and licks them. She closes her eyes, as the thick liquid explodes against her taste buds and fills her with the most extreme delight.

She pushes the blanket away and rising above the trapper, she tears the shirt open. She wraps her hands around the man's belt and shreds the thick fabric of his pants. In the light of the moon, Eli's organ is flask, slowly dripping cum. The woman looks at it with hunger. She lowers herself between his legs and takes the dick between her lips. Cupping his balls with her fingers, she laps at the remnant seed with avidity. The tip of her tongue searches around the recesses of the head to get every drop of it. Eli is ready again. She crawls back on his chest and impales herself. Her cold dripping pussy absorbs every inch of Eli's Manhood.

"Will you help me?" she growls.

Their faces are so close right now that Eli can finally see her clearly. He can see the madness hidden behind her eye, her oversized canines, her hunger, her lust. Eli knows he should be running, but something stops him. Maybe it is the will to help the poor girl, maybe it's his need for affection. He knows his life will soon end but he doesn't really care.

"Yes," he answers, "I will help you."

At the acceptance of the sacrifice the woman howls in the night. And she starts feeding, biting the strong trapper on the mouth, on the cheeks, on the neck, on the chest. She draws blood and drinks it. She indulges her unnatural needs. She accepts herself for what she has become, a terrible creature of madness, a blunt instrument of revenge. As the monster feeds, Dixie enjoys freedom for the first time in a long while...

2.

Three weeks have passed and life has moved on in the small valley surrounding the town. A loner has arrived with a bunch of pelts. The travelling dealer has bought the load and has waited three more days for Eli to arrive but the trapper has never shown up. With the unexpected shipment of pelts the travelling dealer has moved on back to the mountains to bring the pelts to be transformed in his factory and sent back east.

The burial of the professional player has been quick and the sheriff has looked the other way. The Grizzly being one of old O'Connor most trusted men, the law wouldn't dare to make a move against him. It's the law of the strongest, the law of the west.

The miners have gone back to the mine and the streets have become safe again for the hard working and god fearing flock of Reverend Fulton. A herd has crossed the plain and has moved down south towards the big spring cattle market.

Gertrud has beaten two of her girls, The Grizzly has been gone for a week to do no good somewhere else and O'Connor has appropriated the old McCrery's lands, but no one has asked about the disappearance of poor little Dixie.

The Indian girl in the saloon has stayed on her stool, patiently waiting for the return of the balance.

***

Mary Ann Fulton should know better than to be out alone so late in the prairie. She has spent the afternoon at the Jeffrey's helping out Mrs. Jeffrey with her sewing and she hasn't seen the night falling outside. Now she has to walk through the valley back to town under the light of the moon. Her white dress reflecting the dim light makes her stand out. Despite the fact that she's a girl from the country, she's also used to be home by nightfall and the howling coyotes in the background don't make her comfortable. Suddenly she stops. Has she heard the footsteps of a horse? She turns around but there's no one in sight. She ducks among the high herbs and waits for a while. Nothing around but the usual sounds of the night. She stands again and turns towards town.

There it is again: the horse's footsteps. She stops for the second time but there's still no one in sight. She starts walking again when suddenly she spots it: a man on a horse on the top of small hill ahead of her. The rider is looking at her. She knows she can't run, pedestrians will never outrun a horse, so she waits. For a very long time the silhouette stands on the hill looking down at her. In the night she's unable to see its features but it looks like a small man wearing a poncho and a large hat. Finally the man kicks his horse and leads it towards her. He stops the horse just a few yards away from her.

"Good evening sir," she says in the firmest tone she can manage.

"Good evening to you Mary Ann."

The rider is actually a woman and Mary Ann recognizes her voice.

"Dixie?"

"Dixie? You're not the first one to call me that..."

"Dixie? Are you all right?"

The rider doesn't answer, she unmounts the horse. Mary Ann spots the shiny peacemaker hanging from her friend's belt. She shrugs. The rider approaches the daughter of the Reverend; she passes by her and turns around her friend.

"Dixie... For a moment there you had me terrified."

"I know."

"You know that father doesn't want me to hang around you anymore."

"I know."

"He says that you're doomed and that we shouldn't mingle with you."

"Oh my sweet Mary Ann," the rider is now behind her, so close that she can feel her cold breath, "you don't know how right he is."

The arms of the rider wrap around the waist of the girl. Mary Ann shivers. Something weird is happening to her.

"But don't you remember? Don't you remember the time before? The time when I was just another peasant's daughter? The time when we were simple friends?"

"Yes..." Mary Ann answers, "Yes I remember that time."

"And don't you miss that time, my sweet Mary Ann?" whispers the rider to Mary Ann's hear.

The rider's mouth is now slowly moving up and down the young woman's neck. Her cold tongue playing with her hear lobe.

"Yes... I mean no... Not like that..."

The rider forces Mary Ann to face her. The large hat has fallen on the rider's back held by the leather lace around her neck. Mary Ann can finally see the face of her friend. She shivers again. Dixie's eyes are burning with a terrible fire. The rider plants a chaste kiss on her friend's lips and releases her. The reverend's daughter caught off guard falls on her ass. Dixie lets out quick cruel laugh.

"Mary Ann, always so clumsy."

She seats by her friend's side. She then slowly lies back in the middle of the tall grass of the prairie looking at the full moon above her.

"Dixie... I should be going now, my parents will..."

"Shhh, lay by my side, enjoy the night, look at the beautiful moon, forget about the rest..."

There's something compelling about the rider's voice, something alluring, something wrong. Mary Ann hesitates.

"I should really..."

"Should you? I don't remember everything but I do remember a time when you were the one to have the bad ideas. You were the one who wanted to go and watch the boys swim by the river. You were the one that wanted to steal the money from the church's trunk to buy that nail varnish at the drug store; and I was the one preventing you from getting in trouble."

"What happened to you?" Mary Ann asks suddenly.

The rider looks at the sky for a long time before answering.

"I don't know, I think I died..."she finally says in a whisper.

Mary Ann doesn't know what to answer so she lies back in the grass and starts admiring the stars.

"So you're of ghost or something?" she finally asks.

The rider stands on her elbow looking at her friend. She finally bends forward and presses her lips against her friends. Her tongue parts Mary Ann's lips.

The kiss finally breaks.

"Could a ghost do that?" she says licking her friend's warm saliva from her lips.

Mary Ann giggles.

"I don't know... let's try it again." She says putting a hand around her friend's neck and forcing her into a second longer kiss.

"Dixie? Why are you so cold?" she asks after taking her breath.

"I don't know maybe I brought back some of the cold of the tomb with me..."

The rider's hand has found its way below her friends dress. She starts playing through the rough fabric of Mary Ann, with the now moist intimacy of her friend.

"Take it off," she orders.

"Give me a hand then," Mary Ann says offering her back to the rider.

The rider's hands free her friend from her tight dress. They face again.

But as the rider is about to dive in for a third kiss the light of the moon catches the shiny metal of Mary Ann's cross. The rider jumps back.

"I don't know what is happening, it hurts so much." The rider screams.

Mary Ann closes in on her friends and takes her in her arms. The cross brushes against the rider's cheek leaving a dark stain of burnt flesh. The rider jumps again holding her face. She falls to her knees, crying.

"What have I done?" Mary Ann pleads.

"The cross... take it off... Please!"

The reverend's daughter looks at the trinket around her neck and looks at her friend. She stops, for the first time she sees her for the demon she is. Her eyes full of hate, her mouth full of threatening fangs, her thick eyebrows, her protruding forehead, her devilish ears. Slowly she lifts the cross.

"Be gone..." she starts, "be gone you fool creature of darkness..."

"If this is how you want it to unfold..." growls the creature.

The rider unwraps the poncho from her shoulders revealing her bare pale chest to the light of the moon. In a swift movement she closes the distance between Mary Ann and her and she wraps the reverend's daughter arms with the thick cloth. She pulls on the mantle breaking the chain and throws away the poncho with the cross mingled in it. Her hand wraps smoothly around her victim's neck. She tilts Mary Ann's head and sinks her fangs into the pulsating carotid artery. The warm blood starts pouring down the monster's throat.

The girl's scream of terror turns to a loud moan of pleasure. The reverend's daughter experiences a ravaging orgasm and starts crying. The rider releases her victim and pushes her back to the ground.

"I'm so sorry," Mary Ann says.

The rider, towering above her in all her devilish majesty, licks the blood from her lips.

"I'm so sorry," the girl repeats, "had I known..."

"Had you known, you would have gone with the wind, you puritan fuck. It could have been much more pleasant, it could have been easy, but you had to listen to your stinking father and his worthless God. You should know that there are no such things as good and evil, there's only freedom and submission, you could have gotten freedom from me but now you'll only get slavery!"

In the distance the rumbling of a searching party is approaching. The rider cuts her wrist and sticks it under the girl's mouth forcing her to drink her blood. She finally kneels by her friends' side and says:

"You will remember nothing of tonight and you will wait for my return, is that clear?"

Mary Ann can only answer:

"Yes, I will wait for you ... Mistress."

3.

And for the next two months life in the valley has gone on. The sickness of Mary Ann Fulton is soon on everybody's mind. The poor girl has been locked in a closed room of her family's room refusing to feed. She looks pale and the barber hasn't been unable to do anything for her.

The miners pay has come and gone into the pockets of the hag Gertrud. The Grizzly has come back and killed a man with his bare hands over a petty dispute. O'Connor has the Sheriff removed and replaced by one of his own men, a mean fellow named Freddy. The good people of town have started worrying about the future but did nothing. The same herd has passed through the prairie again returning to their winter pastures.

The Indian girl in the Saloon has stayed on her stool, listening to the music and waiting, once again patiently.

***

The night has fallen on the small cabin behind the saloon. This afternoon Gertrud has beaten Suzie to a pulp because of a customer complaint, that is why the blond girl is asleep in one of the bug infested beds and not working the higher floor of the saloon.