Gabrella was tired of being single. She hated the idea of looking online for prospective dates, but she was tired of lonely nights of dinner for one and watching TV. Gabrella turned on her laptop and with slight hesitation she Googled sites for connecting singles. She looked at several and read the overly glossy profiles of the guys. It reminded Gabrella of that song from the 70’s she always hated, the Escape Song, (aka Pina Colada song), about the couple who take out ads to meet other people only to end up together. They supposedly didn’t know they liked the same things. “What a load of bull shit!” She muttered as she thought about that song.

She felt it was all superficial. No one was really honest about themselves.

Gabrella finally found one that piqued her interest. SUCK IT UP DATING. “The dating site that lets you be yourself.” That would be great to have a date with someone who laid it right on the line. She looked at some of the guys. Some were heavyset, some not particularly attractive, some too thin, some just ugly. Although, Gabrella wanted honest, she realized she probably wasn’t quite ready to accept the real thing.
      And then she came across one profile that sounded intriguing.  Tall, dark-haired, pale, ageless, eastern European man looking for a red-blooded American girl.

He looked pretty handsome in a general sense, but very pale. Kind of goth looking Gabrella thought, but she was cool with that. After all, her favorite movies were horror. Perhaps he would be the kind that could laugh at himself. Gabrella made a mental note to take this guy to the beach to get some color if they did end up dating regularly.

On the night of the date this prospect, whose name was Lucas d’Alucare told Gabrella he would meet her at a Romanian restaurant in town called Diavolului.

Gabrella wore a red silk dress that clung seductively to her body and put her hair up. She had been told by Lucas that when he saw her on the dating site, he noticed her beautiful, swan like neck. She decided an up-do would show it off quite well. Gabrella didn’t know why she was trying so hard to pretty herself up for this stranger. He probably is a complete loser, but she will know when she starts talking to him. However, something told her to look her best.

When Gabrella entered the restaurant, she was surprised that not many people were there. She hoped the reason for the low turnout on a Friday night was not the food. She was starving!

The host looked her squarely in the eyes and asked if Gabrella was meeting anyone there? She gave him Luca’s name. The host’s pale lips curved into sly smile.

“Ah, Count d’Alucare, I see. Fine gentlemen! Follow me my dear.”

“A Count?” She said. “I had no idea.”

“He comes from a well-respected family in the old country,” said the host. He motioned with the menu for her to follow him.

Gabrella followed the gaunt figure to an isolated, curtained booth with a window overlooking a cemetery.

He pushed back the heavy, red curtain and pulled it back with a gold cord. He ushered with his hand for her to sit. “Count d’Alucare’s private table madam.”

Gabrella wondered if Lucas met a lot of dates here? She still did not see him, but he did tell her he might be a little late.

Gabrella noticed the last of the sunlight streaming through the window and was wistful. The sun was setting earlier now. It was now fully dark by 6:30 in mid-October.

People starting coming into the restaurant now. Groups of them. Several of them looked about as pale as Lucas, but still no Lucas.

Gabrella looked at the menu and unfortunately it was all in Romanian, Gabrella sighed. She almost felt like walking out. But she remembered Lucas’s hypnotic blue eyes staring out from his photo and resolved to stay.  

“Gabrella?” she turned to see Lucas sitting at the table. “Sorry, I was late.”

Gabrella thought that was odd, she didn’t see him come in the door and she had been watching, “I didn’t see you come in. Why, um, hello Lucas.”

“Good evening!” He grinned. “I came in the back. I know the staff quite well you see. They are good friends, plus you were engrossed in looking at the menu,” he replied.

“Yes, I guess I was.” Gabrella pointed to the host. Lurch over there seems to know you well.”

“Lurch? No, his name is Vladamar,” Lucas said. “Why do you call him Lurch?”

“You know the Adams Family, Lurch the butler?” Gabrella said.

“No, I don’t know a Lurch Adams or his family,” her date said.

“Never mind,” said Gabrella. “It was a TV show from a long time ago. I thought everyone knew the show.”

“Oh, American humor! Ha-H!.” His laughter was staggered, as though it took lots of effort.
      A waiter came to their table.

“Oh, I’m sorry, she said to Lucas. I don’t know what to order, it’s all in Romanian. Can you please translate this for me please? Are there any vegetarian entrees?”

Both Lucas and the waiter said “No” at the same time.

“Oh, ok. “I guess I will have some wine, do you have bread?” asked the Gabrella.

The waiter nodded. “Yes, madam.”

He grinned at Lucas, “The same as usual, my lord?”

Lucas nodded. “Please.”

The waiter retreated to the kitchen.

Lucas stared directly into her eyes. “Will that be enough food for you?”

“Plenty, I’m not really that hungry.” This was a bold face lie, she knew she should have suggested another place. His stare had her spellbound, and nervous. Her stomach protested with a growl.

Lucas smirked. “Ah, I disagree, you are quite obviously hungry. No worries. I know of another place just down the street where you can have a nice salad. I should have asked what you like…”

The waiter returned with a glass filled with a red fluid, it looked too bright and thick to be wine.

Gabrella was taken aback. She stared at the glass.

“Ah, I realize this must look strange to a vegetarian,” Lucas smiled. “It is a blood wine made from a Kestrel, it is a bird of prey in Romania. Excuse me, I just want to finish this if you don’t mind. It is a delicacy in my country. Then we will go to Salvadore’s Salad Heaven.”

He gulped it down what looked to Gabrella like pure blood.

Gabrella lost her appetite.

“You know, I think I am good We don’t need to go to another restaurant.” Gabrella was beginning to get spooked. He couldn’t be, no, no, there are no such things, she thought to herself. Lucas couldn’t be a vampire? She looked around, everyone there looked like they could have walked out of Carfax Abbey.
      “Are you alright Gabrella?” Asked Lucas.

She picked up her phone and looked at it. “You know, I realized that I had to meet a friend of mine tonight, I didn’t think about how close our date was the time I was due to meet her. I will have to leave a little early, perhaps we could meet down at the beach tomorrow morning for breakfast?” Gabrella suggested.

“No, no, sorry, I am not a morning person.” Lucas replied. A hurt look crossed his face. “You know, I don’t believe you are meeting a friend. I think you are not attracted to my kind.”

“What kind is that?” Gabrella asked.

“Carnivore,” Lucas replied.

“Well, um. Yeah, that’s it, yes, as a true vegetarian, I don’t think we would be compatible. I’m sorry. Goodbye. It was, um, nice meeting you Lucas.” Gabrella walked quickly to the door and exited, leaving him alone in the booth.

Lucas waved goodbye as she left.

Vladamar walked over to the rejected Lucas. Shaking his head. “I told you that you shouldn’t order the Kestrel blood. It always spooks them.”

“Hey, it is supposed to be an honest dating site. What is wrong with a little Kestrel blood? Who does she think I am? Dracula?” Asked Lucas.

Vladamar looked him in the eyes and gave him a slow nod yes.

A beautiful woman lives in the top floor apartment. She has a black longed hair cat. There's something a bit familiar about the pair.

Of - course I am attracted to them. Drawn to them.

Both of them have emerald eyes that are identically flecked with shards of gold.

Without a doubt they are a bewitching duo.

My brain burns with the blood they are boiling inside me.

I must go to them.

How can I get the door open? It's locked.

I share the middle floor apartment with a pathetic human who is scared of them. His stale skin reeks of fright. If I stay in view of the front door, I'll escape the next time he leaves. The human is too scared to be swift enough to catch me.

I will go to them.

I will join them.

I will love them.

To me, both of these witches are becoming more than a bit familiar.

“Why Why is it always vampires? I'm so tired of vampires,” Sheila said with a sigh, which blossomed into a misty cloud in the night air.

“I don't know. I'm pretty tired of them too. Couldn't it be witches once in a while? I like witches,” Steve said as he looked around. They appeared to be alone now.

“You only like pretty witches,” Sheila said as she rolled her eyes. She could read Steve like the steely nerved, muscle bound, pulp novel character type, that he so aspired to become.

“It's more fun if the witches are pretty,” Steve said. He accidentally kicked the head of one of the vampire corpses. The head rolled freely away from the neck.

“That's another thing I hate about vampires. They're gross,” Sheila said. The rolling head dripped strange goo that moved oddly.

“Yeah, even the pretty vampires can be pretty gross. You know, I barely remember what my life was like before,” Steve said.

Sheila knew the feeling, but she couldn't really say anything. How could she reveal that the dark night that stretched across New England was most likely her fault? If only she hadn't painted her vision. Shelia sensed something menacing about the idea, but she couldn't give up the challenge. She awoke from a vivid dream to paint what came to her from the subconscious sea.

Or, so she thought at the time. Most likely, the twisted vision came from Hell.

When the painting was done Sheila knew it was the greatest painting of her career yet it scared her, terrified her. That very night the storm came. So did the vampires, witches, shapeless monsters, and so many fiends that hadn't existed until she painted them.

The unreal rendered real.

Sheila felt sure the painting welcomed the monsters into the world. Eventually she had burned the painting, but it hadn't made a difference.

Maybe she was wrong. Sheila tried to comfort herself with that translucent belief.

Sheila and Steve were the last living members of Sheila's Writers Group. When members of the group, Deb and Paul, became undead, Sheila destroyed them herself. They were always writing about vampires.

Even then, Sheila was sick of vampires.

Steve pointed his axe towards the house. “Should we go in and get it over with? You know there's got to be a few more in there.”

Sheila hefted the large golden cross in her slender hands. “Let's get it over with. I want to get home and have some tea. I'm so sick of vampires.”

Jan and Tessa were at Tessa's apartment. Late Saturday afternoon light seeps in through the windows. A humid summer afternoon in the city.

Something was on the TV. Jan and Tessa ignored it.

“Do you think cat's smell bad memories?” Jan asked.

“Well, that's an interesting, but very... odd ball question. I'm really not sure how to answer it,” Tessa replied with a far, farther away look in her eyes.

“I asked that question, because I've done terrible things. Sometimes I feel as though my mother's cat smells these things that I've done,” Jan said.

Tessa sat on the green beanbag chair looking over at her friend, Jan. “We've all done things we're not proud of, cats still like me. I've never had a problem with a cat even though I cheated on all my high school senior exams.” Confessing that to Jan was a relief to Tessa.

Jan furiously wiped her own face. “My terrible thing tops that,” Jan said with a venom reserved purely for herself.

“Do you want a drink?” Tessa asked.

Jan shook her head no. Tessa remembered the TV was on, so she shut it off.

“Are ghosts just memories that we can't quite believe? Maybe they're memories that won't die,” Jan mused.

“You're being really weird. Did you take anything before you came over? If you did, don't take it again, whatever it was,” Tessa said.

Jan shook her head. “I wish I had. This is bad.”

Tessa wanted to ask about the secret Jan kept. She knew it would be useless. Jan had changed a few months ago. Why? What had happened? Jan wouldn't say.

“I only ask all these odd things, because, I think when I go home tonight, my mother's cat is going to be staring at me from a high space, not letting me near her, hissing if I get too close. Then I'll see the worst part of what I saw last night. The wrong that I did, will come walking down the stairs. Then the cat and... they'll both look at me. I'm not sure if I can stand seeing them stare at me again,” Jan said. The strained face Jan made, caused Tessa to pull back in fear.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” Tessa asked.

“Sure. That's a good idea. Thanks,” Jan said.

A little over an hour later, Jan went to sleep curled up on the bean bag. Tessa went to her bed.
            Later in the night, Tessa woke up from a dead sleep to hear cats hissing. Tessa didn't have a cat. What was happening? Dozens of cats were in the alley under Tessa's bedroom window, all of them were yowling in a frenzy.

Tessa went to check on Jan.

Jan was gone.

Mari and Josh walked along the trail bordering the shoreline swatting at insects. A deep purple bruise of a sunset streaked the skyline as they slowed down after a long day of hiking. 

“This isn’t right. We should turn back. I’m tired,” Mari complained, scratching her ankle. “We need to find the main trail leading to the parking lot.”

“No!” Josh declared loudly, veering off the narrow dirt path into the grassy dunes. “It’s here, at Jones Cove. Look,” he gestured for her to follow the short distance to the water. “That’s Blood Bay. We found it.”

Mari stepped into the soft sand, dropped her backpack and plopped down on a nearby rock. The beach was small, the water calm. It looked so peaceful. How could anything so evil happen here? She found her water bottle and downed the remains. “Your father said we should leave before nightfall.”

Josh sighed. “He only said that so we wouldn’t get lost.”

“Dah! That’s the point. He said we could get disoriented. It’s the curse of Blood Bay.”  

“That’s a myth. Besides, I have GPS on my phone.”

“Yeah, and we still went off the trail.”

Josh said nothing. He just stood looking out at the bay where a few boats dotted the opposite shoreline. 

Mari knew the story of the sunken pirate ship off the rocky eastern coastline. It was a doomed vessel, according to legend. The Black Seal crew had returned to claim their buried treasure from the year before, after ditching it at the cove. Only they never made it to shore. The small ship hit the rocks when a sudden storm came up in April of 1721. Few survived the wreck and were met by a surprise attack from the villagers who knew of the gold. The bloody battle earned its name when the murderous villagers killed the survivors of the wreck when they did not disclose the location of the loot.

Legend was they stole everything onboard the Black Seal and killed the crew, including a woman pirate. She claimed there was no buried treasure and was shot for her lie, but not before she cursed the village and the bay area. Later, the sunken ship vanished.     

“So, how did the ship disappear? “Mari asked. “And what exactly is the curse?” She gazed out at the darkening skyline, her mind losing connection with reality. Something or someone was trying to reach her. She had a sudden urge to run. A cold shiver raced through her veins as she jumped up and grabbed her things. “Never mind. “You can tell me on the way OUTTA here.” She yelled.

Josh reluctantly stepped back onto the path. “Oh, alright, we’ll come back during the day, now that we know where it is. Although, we don’t know where the treasure is. No one does. All because of Abigail DeWitt, the woman pirate,” he began, falling in quick step with Mari. “She cursed the villagers before they killed her. Said they would never find the gold and cursed Jones Cove itself and anyone who came looking for the gold. Forever. Dad said that’s why people get lost. They walk in circles, never finding the treasure.”

Mari hurried, glancing back at the bay. She saw the water rippling. Was it turning red? Again, she connected with something dark as her head began buzzing with weird thoughts. Murderous thoughts. She looked around in confusion, stumbling back onto the main trail, Josh at her heels. She needed to turn back and tried to, but he wouldn’t let her. “Let me go,” she shouted. But Josh grabbed her arm, pulling her forward.

“No. I think the curse is real. We can’t wander off. We’ve gotta stick to the main trail.”

“No,” Mari shouted. Suddenly, she wanted to hurt Josh. Blind rage filled her vision and before she knew it, she’d grabbed a rock and threw it at his head. “I hate you.” She spewed. “You won’t get my gold. You’ll never find it.” She hissed like an angry cat as he hit the ground. She knew she was in Abigail’s head now. Mari was helpless to fight the vengeful pirate. She understood the curse dooms anyone from discovering the treasure. Yet, she knew exactly where to find it. Abigail was guiding her.
She turned from Josh, whose body lay sprawled on the ground with blood oozing from his head. He was still alive, but his life no longer mattered. All that mattered was the treasure.

Mari stepped over Josh’s limp body and ran back to Blood Bay. The loot wasn’t far from shore, the bloody shore, but it was on the other side of the water.

The next morning Mari’s body washed up on the beach, along with a handful of gold coins. Josh was nowhere in sight.

“'I put a spell on you because your mine.'” Vera sang, letting her slender fingers caress the crystal ball. Her long raven hair fell about her shoulders as she leaned in and kissed the glowing globe. Red stains marked the spot as the large globe swirled in shades of purple and black then turned blood orange before it flickered and went dark.

“That should do it,” the witch girl said, covering the ball with her scarlet scarf. “Frankie, you’re mine now.” She confirmed with a knowing nod to her familiar. Max, her tuxedo cat, was perched on a shabby couch near the round table where Vera conducted her daily gazing and spells. Frankie had been gone too long this time. She didn’t like it whenever her hunky boyfriend left, often for days at a time.

Sometimes he’d go off camping with the guys. Other times his plans involved other women. One woman in particular, Shelby. Vera’s nemesis. Shelby and Vera were long - time rivals for Frankie’s affections. Vera had worked hard to bring her stray man back home. She’d tried spell after spell. Nothing worked. But this spell was different. It involved a song. A song with meaning. A powerful song to cast a spell. A spell to end all her troubles. “This one should stick,” she declared, jumping up and gazing over to Max.

Max lifted his head and opened his eyes. “I don’t think it will work the way you think. Frankie is gone. Gone for good this time. You can’t bring him back with a spell song.”

 “Oh, what do you know, you snarly cat. Frankie will return. He has to, he’s mine and I can’t live without him.”

“You got the wrong song.”

“What? I got it right. That old song by Creedence adds flavor to my spell. It enhances it. The lyrics along with my spell should work. It has too.”

“Hmm.” Max lifted a paw and started washing his face. “The lyrics are somewhat different in CCR’s version than the original by Screamin’ Jay Hawkins. And I should know. I’ve been around longer than you.” He winked at her and continued his grooming.

“So, it’s close enough. Besides, it’s more about the spell and chanting. I’m right. You’ll see.” Vera huffed.
 “Whatever,” Max whispered, giving up his daily bath in exchange for a good nap on his favorite shredded couch. The one he so loved to scratch.

Vera ignored him and made a hot cup of tea in her tiny trailer. She’d shared the space with Frankie for a time, back when he’d promised to buy her a house. But that dream never came true. Nothing ever did with him. Maybe Max was right, she’d be better off without him. Vera had obsessed over him too long. She promised herself if he didn’t come back this time, if the spell didn’t work, she would just forget about him. But she didn’t want Shelby to have him either. And that irked the hell out of her.

Vera sat comfortably next to Max sipping her drug induced tea. It wasn’t a hallucinogenic like the others, but it did offer a calming, reflective state. She was starting to doze when loud screaming music came blaring from her crystal ball, nearly giving her a heart attack. Even Max jumped, and nothing scared him. "'I put a spell on you,'" by Screamin’ Jay Hawkins echoed throughout the trailer, shaking the entire structure. Vera listened to the lyrics. Max was right, it was slightly different. But that shouldn’t affect the spell. Should it? Was it her spell? Or something Max told her to add at the end. She’d have to check.

“Answer the door,” Max purred sarcastically. “It’s him. Frankie’s back to haunt you.”

Vera heaved herself off the couch, her heart finally settling after the sudden eruption from her crystal ball. She opened the door before the knock. In front of her stood Frankie. Behind him was Shelby. Blonde, petite, teeth brighter than the sun, perky Shelby.

Frankie stood tall, gazing at her with blank dark eyes.

“Go away Frankie. I’ve decided I don’t want you anymore.”

“Good for you,” came an unwanted comment from behind. Max now stood at her feet looking up at the man who darkened Vera’s doorway.

“I. . .I.. . neeeed he h . . . elp.” He muttered.

“You look rather pale,” Vera said, glancing at Shelby.

Shelby stepped up behind Frankie. “I decided I don’t want him either. 'I ain’t gonna take any more of his fooling around. Ha, I ain’t lying.'” Shelby smiled. “I put a spell on him too. He’s all yours. Or was,” she cackled before she pushed him forward and vanished.

Frankie fell face first into the trailer, a knife sticking out of his back. Blood trickling down his white shirt.
“I’m so soor sorry, honey,” he said, eyes fixed on Max. Vera’s familiar was the only one who saw the regret on his face as Frankie uttered his last, sorry.   

“I told ya so,” Max said under his whiskers. “Now maybe we can live in peace.” He meowed, then softly sang, “‘I put a spell on you because your mine.’”

Max made his way back to the couch, a glint in his green eyes.

Vera looked down at Frankie. Funny how she didn’t feel a thing. But she did wonder if Max had anything to do with the spell.