The Magician's Assistant

I looked to him and shrugged. "Monday?"

"No. The date."

I glanced to the newspaper. "The thirty-first."

"It's Halloween!"

I shrugged again. "Are we handing out candy?"

"Oh, no," he said. "Far from it. You won't even think of opening that door tonight."

The magician once again departed after supper. I went and dressed, then sat on the sofa and read. And read. It was much closer to midnight than dusk when I heard the rattle of the door handle.

I set my book aside and stood. "Welcome home. Can I..."

"Come. We're going for a walk on the beach."

A half-hour later we strolled along the darkened beach on the southern edge of Coney Island.

"It's a full moon tonight," Gino noted. "And a blue moon as well. Conditions couldn't be better! Won't be this good again this century."

I looked to the luminescent disc in the sky. "It is pretty," I agreed. "But it doesn't look blue."

"You're right." Gino chortled his amusement. "It's not blue in color, but a full moon on Samhain is always a lovely sight."

Minutes later, I was still wondering what he meant when I encountered the same invisible barrier that prevented me leaving the apartment or walking onto the balcony. My head wheeled, but Gino was behind me. I'm not leaving his sight, I reasoned. What rule am I breaking?

"Come," he said, grasping my hand.

Together we passed into a layer of warmth; just as if we had walked into a heated room. Except there was no room. The beach ahead wavered, much like a highway seen in the distance on a hot day. A blurry light came into view. At first I thought it was just a candle, but it grew. Then another light. And another. Five in all, huge wavering fires, torches sticking up from the sand. How had I missed them before?

Soon I could make out a form, nearly the color of the sand, lying between the lights just above the tide. Two steps later, I could discern that it was a young lady without a stitch of clothing. She was spread eagle, each of her limbs and her head pointed toward one of the torches.

With a gasp, I stopped in my tracks. "Who's that?"

"She's some prostitute," Gino said. "A runaway, probably. Who cares?"

"I care!"

"Well, that is your mistake. No one else will miss her."

"Miss her?"

"Your rules about others are suspended for this woman."

"What?"

"You'll see. For now, take off your clothes. Quickly. We don't want any stains."

"Stains?"

"Shut up and do it!"

Gino walked to stand over the prone figure, looking down and smiling while I all but threw my clothes unto the sand.

"Good," he noted when I was as naked as she. "Rub her body with the olive oil."

Against my will, my head moved, my eyes seeking the named liquid. "Where?"

"In the bowl," he said, pointing to a basin near her head. "Not another word until we're done."

I knelt beside the other woman and commenced my appointed task.

She was young, my age, but shorter, a bit on the skinny side. My eyes were drawn to her elf-like face. Her eyes looked back, wide, gleaming. I wondered for a moment why she just lay there, but then I saw it, about her neck; another necklace, just like mine.

"Her stomach," Gino said, kneeling across from me on the other side of her torso. "Oil her stomach first."

This I did. As my hand passed, his followed laying a dozen other necklaces over her greased midsection. When my hands neared her breastbone, I felt it, her heart, pounding within her chest. My eyes leapt to her face. Her beautiful, innocent face. Pudgy little cheeks with a dainty pug nose to match; all framed by a short crop of hair as black as her eyes. My hands slowed, but only for a moment.

"Hurry! The closer to midnight we do this, the better."

With the magician's command, my hands moved again. They did not stop until every exposed inch of the girl's form shimmered in the torchlight.

"Perfect," the magician said. "Now poor the last of the oil over her and put the necklaces in the bowl and the bowl under her neck."

These instructions too I performed. After I had wedged the basin into a hollow beneath her neck I looked up to see Gino's extended hand. Upon his open palm rested one of the blades from the set we used during our knife-throwing act.

"Take this," he said.

Without thought, my hand moved to his and clasped the knife's hilt.

"When I clap my hands," he continued. "you will kill her, cut her throat all the way to her spine. Get ready."

My mouth fell open. No! my brain screamed,Please, but my tongue could not form the words. I could only watch as my hand and the knife slid over her torso to hover above her throat.

Gino looked to the moon and began to chant, throwing flower petals into the air.

With my lips quivering in their attempt to protest, my eyes followed the fluttering bits of flower downward to where they landed upon the girl's oiled skin only to sizzle and melt, leaving the subtle fragrance of rose upon the air.

Gino's chanting grew louder. I looked up. He had closed his eyes and clasped his hands above him. Uttering something akin to a howl, his hands parted, his arms folding downward, much like a blossom opening.

With a gasp, I snapped my gaze to the girl's face. Her hair began to float. Her lips quivered just like mine. We lost a tear at the same moment. My chest shuddered with a sob. She began to weep in earnest.

I'm sorry, I mouthed.

I'm still not sure she heard or could have heard it, even had I spoke. In that moment Gino's hands slammed together, issuing a concussion that sounded more like a clap of thunder than a clap of palms.

I felt my hand move. Her eyes widened. A sickening gurgle reached my ears. I felt a spray of moisture strike my throat, chin, and cheeks. A splattering of crimson droplets shot across her face.

I screamed. Her body shuddered. Her eyes darted to the heavens. I threw my body atop hers. With my mouth to her ear, I whispered, "I'm sorry," over and over, praying she heard me. Not that it mattered. My sorrow changed nothing. Beneath our adjacent bosoms, the beating of her heart slowed, then stopped.

"Good, Christine."

My fist tightened about the knife. I brought the blade about, intent on stabbing Gino. Of course, the swing slowed in mid motion, but that didn't stop him jumping back just the same.

He recovered to laugh, "Silly girl. Look at the sand."

I did.

"Drop the knife," he continued.

My fingers relaxed at once. The blade did not so much fall as shoot from my grasp, striking the grains of sand beneath my gaze rather than those beneath my hand. My mouth flew open, and my eyes with it. I turned my gaze upward, intent on asking why the blade had behaved in such a manner.

I saw Gino's scowl, then the blur that was his moving hand. I felt the sting of the impact just in front of my ear. My head snapped sideways. I fell backward, even my teeth aching from the force of the blow.

"I see I have been remiss in my training," he said. "Too polite perhaps." His hand moved to the dead girl's feet. "Get the other foot. Do as I do."

I scrambled to follow his command. Together we lifted her feet until we stood, each of us clasping a heel to our sternum. Below, I heard a drip turn into a trickle. I closed my eyes, but there was no way I could close my ears.

The sound of the blood draining from the young girl's body assaulted my senses for but minutes I am sure, but how long a minute can be when you want it to end.

"That's enough," Gino said at last. He dropped her feet and then strode to her head, where he stooped and grasped her hair. Yanking her limp form to one side, he retrieved the bowl and knelt beside her.

I turned and looked about. Beyond the torches, I could see the lights of Brooklyn. Dozens of lights. Hundreds even. Why doesn't anyone see? I wondered. Why doesn't anyone help?

With a sigh, I looked back to Gino as he pulled the necklaces from the bowl and laid them again upon her abdomen. His grin sickened me, as did the flexing of his fingers and the rubbing of his palms. "Yes," he squealed. "Twelve. All twelve!"

"Why did you kill her?" I asked.

He looked to me. The fiendish grin broadened. "I didn't kill her. You did, but don't fret over it. You did her a favor, you know; she'd only have lived a couple dozen miserable years anyway. We'll probably each live that much longer for her sacrifice.

I shook my head. "I don't understand?"

"We killed her for these," he said, sweeping his hand over the necklaces still lying on her tummy. "And this." His eyes and hands both went the basin. My jaw fell and my eyes widened as I watched him lift the bowl to his mouth. Big gulping sounds reached my ear, each accompanied by the pulsing of his throat.

My nose wrinkled. A whimper resonated within my throat. I fell to my knees. "Oh, God," I gasped. "You're a vampire."

Gino pulled his mouth away from the basin. He threw his head back. A rivulet of red ran from the corner of his mouth over his cheek a moment before a hearty, villainous laugh rolled over the beach.

"No," he said, turning to me. "And lest the full moon lead you astray, I'm not a werewolf either; though my kind is the source of both legends."

"Your kind?"

He smiled. "The less you know, the better for both of us."

My skin tingled as I considered the extent of the evil before me. "Are you going to kill me too?" I wondered aloud.

Gino kicked his head backward and sent another howl of laughter at the moon. "Just the opposite," he said, bringing his eyes back to me. "Your turn." He thrust his hand and the bowl toward me. "Drink."

"No!" I gasped, but that single word was all I had time to speak before my hands had brought the basin to my lips. A moment later the warm, salty taste of blood filled my mouth.

"Her death is our life," Gino whispered as I drank. "You and I, Christine. We've been together for centuries." He chuckled through a grin. "Ever since you said I wasn't good enough for you."

With a metallic aftertaste lingering on my tongue, I dropped the empty bowl upon the sand. How old am I? I wondered, looking to my body. It doesn't matter, I concluded with a sigh, it won't be my body for long. My eyes narrowed as I brought them up. What if this body is the key? Maybe if I kill myself, he can't enchant...

Gino's brow dropped. "What are you smiling about?"

My brain scrambled. "Why don't you keep me?" I asked, hoping he thought I couldn't lie. "I can make you happy. You don't need anyone else."

His chest shuddered with yet another laugh. "Oh," he gasped. "That's rich. Now that you know you can live forever, you want to stay. You really are the perfect slut."

"If I'm perfect, keep me."

"No." He sighed and shook his head. "You'll be gone by Christmas."

"Christmas?"

"The winter solstice to be exact. After that, I've been thinking of going south. Maybe to that new Disneyland place. I could work..."

The magician continued to talk, but I wasn't listening. Inside my head I put two and two together. Literally. Two solstices and two equinoxes. Four girls per year. My eyes fell to the beach, and the dead girl's feet. No. Make that five. Five girls per years for hundreds of years. I shuddered, but a hint of the rage boiling within me.

Gino stood and brushed the sand from his clothes. "We best get going." He reached down and scooped up the necklaces. "Drag her out in the ocean while I gather the rest of our things."

With a sigh, I stood and dragged her by the hands into the water.

"Farther," Gino said as he hurled a torch into the ocean. "As far as you can. With any luck, they'll never find her. Oh, and that necklace on her neck, the magic's gone from those stones, take it off and leave it in the water too. Drop it anywhere."

I looked down at the shadows of her face and the water lapping over it. Her facade was a peaceful one, as if she slept. For a moment, I envied her that, but a moment later my eyes slipped from her face to the necklace still about her neck. His words echoed within my brain. The magic's gone from those stones. Leave it in the water. Drop it anywhere.

Trying to remain calm, I moved my shaking fingers to the clasp.

With the necklace firmly between my fingers, I dragged the girl until only my head was above the waves, then I turned and shoved her toward the sea. "I'm sorry," I whispered as she floated away.

With my lips set into a firm line, I spun and began to march back toward the shore. Below the waves my busy fingers fed another piece of the necklace into myself with every step. Yeah, I thought. I'm going to drop it in the water alright, just like you said.

* * *

My plan was almost over before it began.

"To the bed with you," Gino commanded the instant we were back in the apartment. "On your hands and knees."

With a gulp, I did his bidding; my eyes widening as he flipped my skirt upon my back.

"I have to pee," I protested.

"You always have to pee. It can wait."

I felt his fingers on my sex. My heart raced. I can't let him find the necklace!

His belt buckle rattled. I heard the rustle of his trousers, then the creak of his knees upon the mattress. He began to rub his cockhead among my folds. My anxiety became a panic.

I spun my head over my shoulder. "I thought you were going to teach me new stuff. Isn't that what you said at the beach?" Just from the corner of my vision, I saw his eyes wander and decided to press my point. "Why don't you put it in my butt? Or are you afraid it's so small I won't even notice?"

His inhale was more snarl than breath. Less than a second later his fingers wrapped themselves in my locks. He leaned, pushing me prone upon the bedding. "Stay there."

I wiggled, but found myself unable to move anything other than my head. This I turned to watch Gino walk down the hallway.

Seconds later he returned with an urn of olive oil. "How handy I left this out," he said, pouring some of the liquid into his cupped palm. With a wide grin breaking across his lips he moved his hand to his shaft and ran his fist up and down, lubricating the length.

I snapped my eyes to the pillow just beneath my nose. What have you done?

"You want it up your ass, little slut?" he asked, straddling my hips.

Imagining he didn't expect an answer, I remained silent and awaited the inevitable. I felt a hand on my ass cheek. Once again, he pulled my panties aside. His cockhead pushed into the valley of my ass, rubbing up and down, seeking the tender aperture therein. He found it in short order.

"Be sure and let me know if it's too small for you to feel!"

With that, he leaned, putting his weight upon his shaft, and through it upon my sensitive anal rings. At once, my little butthole became the source of a deep, stabbing pain. I issued a long, irregular grunt. My muscles clenched, a matter of instinct rather than will, as if to keep him out.

For a moment I feared I had done just that, but I found he had only withdrawn to gain momentum for a second assault. With another dose of misery, my tiny muscles absorbed the impact, surrendering to allow a pinch of his crown within. My subsequent exhale was more like a cough than a breath.

"Liking it yet, slut?" Gino snarled.

"No!" I cried, guessing this would only ensure he continued.

"You'll learn to like it," he said. "But not tonight. Tonight you learn what happens to wives who don't keep their mouths shut."

He pushed again. And again. Each time the rubbery head of his cock pried my anus a little wider until, a pair of long minutes later, my exhausted rings gave up their struggle. In that instant, his cock plunged several inches into me. The pain that had been confined to my sphincter surged inside with him.

My mouth flew open. My fingers clawed at the sheets. So intense was the hurt that I could barely feel his cock sliding out for another thrust, but when that thrust came it was like a hammer pounding my ass. My chest shuddered. An elongated moan passed through my still parted lips.

Gino yanked my head back and brought his lips near my ear. "Pity this isn't the first time for your body too, but don't worry, you'll learn what that's like. I'm going to find you a nice virgin body and a husband that likes sodomizing his woman."

My eyes widened, but not because of his threat; I realized the pain was such I couldn't feel anything else. Even though I expected it would only hurt more, I squeezed my muscles tight lest the necklace somehow slip from within me.

"Oh, yes," he gasped. "That's nice. Are you already liking it?"

"No," I gasped. "I hate it."

"Don't worry little slut," he snarled. "It'll feel better soon."

I didn't believe him, but his words proved true just the same. Within a matter of seconds, the pain abated. The sensation shifted form one of agony to something familiar, like a prolonged bowel movement. Picturing his cock plowing through my lower tract less than an inch from my smuggled band of jewels, I could not keep from smiling.

This respite lasted for but a few minutes before discomfort returned in a different form. My ass, my rings in particular, began to burn. I closed my eyes and prayed for it to end.

Soon enough, it did.

Gino plowed into my depths. His chest found my back. Even through several layers of clothing I could feel his heart pounding. A shallow grunting reached my ears, each tiny rumble timed with a tiny thrust from his cock.

Afterward he lay atop me, panting into my ear for half a minute before he spoke. "I know you're angry about the dead whore, but you must learn to control your temper no matter what your husband does. Even your holy book specifies the wife is to obey her husband, does it not?"

"It does," I admitted.

He stood. "Very well then, wife. Let that be the last disrespect you show me or any other husband. Go and draw me a bath while you're peeing."

Clutching my skirts to my privates I gained my feet and raced for the washroom. There I sat, but kept my muscles tight. I looked to the door; the door I wasn't allowed to close. My eyes wandered while my ears searched.

Hearing nothing, my fingers rushed to my loins and fished the necklace from within. With but a glance toward the corridor, I turned and put one hand to the reservoir lid, lifting it a hair. Into the crack the fingers of my other hand pushed the necklace. A moment later I heard the splash. Wearing a broad smile, I eased the lid back on the tank and looked back to the bedroom. I dropped it in the water, just like you said.

* * *

As if a murder was nothing unusual, Gino and I resumed our typical schedule the following day. Neither of us said a word about the girl and neither did the newspaper, yet this did not stop her from dominating my thoughts. It was not until Wednesday evening over supper that I was again able to refocus on my own dilemma, starting with an inquiry regarding our planned trip to the hardware store.

"When are we going to see Thomas?"

"Oh, that," Gino said, not even looking up from his meal. "It'll have to wait. We're going to see him at the wedding next week anyway."

"But I thought..." I stopped myself, hoping not to appear eager.

This time he did look. A second later, he laughed. "Don't look so disappointed. I'm going to find you a nice old man to fuck. What do you think I'm doing all day?"

Gino left me after breakfast, as had become his habit. With the wedding only four days away and my plans for getting my hands on a tool thwarted, I became frantic. I tried again to open the front door, to no avail. The balcony doors I could at least open, but when I attempted to throw myself through them, I came up short on the floor. Lying there, I pounded the wood with my fists and began to weep.

"Why?" I muttered between sobs. "Why me?"

Get a hold of yourself! I counseled. With a sigh, I sat upright and wiped my eyes. I sniffled back a tear and looked to the sunlight beyond the doors.