She stared at the blinds as she shoved open the window, her face 
nearly touching their dusty, sun-warmed aluminum. Just as her 
cats, these blinds were merely objects of her primary 
reality...that in which she had somehow chosen over all else to 
invest her soul. Her thoughts were of what could  and would 
eventually become of this city, this world, this reality. Not 
that she should care; her presence had never meant any 
consequence to the  throng here; none of its denizens had even 
considered she might be from somewhere else. As long as the rent 
got paid on time she would be secure in her anonymity and 
seclusion, quite free to do what she would...permission was never
important. Yet solitude no longer cheered her as it did in the 
past, her isolation from these people worked toward what she came
here for, but she did not feel so happy about being apart from 
everyone anymore. As she fought her need to be just a statistic 
here, her better judgment mercilessly kept calling her back to 
survival. So close she was to letting her soul slip away from 
this plane to find another. Better prey would be nice,  she could
believe that her aloneness was justified  for awhile if she went
somewhere she'd never been, until she got used to life there, 
then it would be back to the same...leaving. Or you could try, 
she reminded herself...or she could try.

	Clearly she had become the monster of her nightmares: the 
time-honored wraith inexorably lurking at perception's door. Odd 
to know that you once feared yourself...at one time she had 
screaming dreams concerning a force nearly omnipotent, though 
strangely heartless and all indifferent. She had been quite 
powerful herself at the time of her nightmares, but the wraith's 
extreme callousness seemed to threaten her authority�s existence.
She had grown into that ghost's power command, as well as its 
apathy. Now I have become that wraith.. And that was it. Wasn't 
it?  Enigma:  Less than a couple of nigmas. She laughed at the 
tired joke. To possess all power and have lost all desire, to 
have become insubstantial and bored and lay claim to the ability 
to create planes with the most simple thought. Her existence 
mocked existence itself now, and the bane of the hopeless was 
upon her. What dissipation will I seek?...although distraction 
was not the same as trying. 

	She scanned the leaves in the forest-like park as a parody of 
the minds that she was categorically drifting through in search 
of one. Ah yes, here it was. A poet, mid-metaphor, so to speak, 
though no one would hear if she spoke it. Seth Holmes: in 
perpetual adolescence from the moment of his first breath, 
fearing and secretly coveting the fear of his own future, yet 
heedless and guileless to the fact that he would most surely have
one; a solver of injustice through the power of fiction horror, 
casting light and doubt upon the severity and common malice of 
all men; the "bad guy" of the vivid reality he was forging. Here 
he would kill one who was his father; he has two fathers. 
Intentionally killing one to cause others to glean a piece of the
injustice. What injustice? A thing which was in its beginning. A 
job in Seth's story, something else, what else in the other 
reality of Seth's mind? An interesting psychology, this one....

	It was a dramatic scene, and Seth urged the tension on, pitching
his thoughts and feelings at the page, causing himself high 
emotion so to "emote" himself well. Maybe some of this will be 
caught by the astute reader, eh? It was cruel for her to consider
that no one would understand what he might be meaning to say; I 
am projecting my own difficulties onto this writer. Truly, she 
was jealous of his talent, this near-effortless drawing of 
interest from the ether of the half-expected.


	Enter Satan and Baalzebub, brother and sister from a litter of 
purebred Siamese. Siamese twin cats. Baalzebub who had proven 
herself female by dropping litter upon litter in rapid succession
off her brother, as if to spite her caregiver for ever judging 
her male. There are too many demons in this world to name your 
children after them. There could never be a need to encourage her
to breed further.

	Satan was by far the friendlier, though the two would do quite 
well as guard-cats given their active hostility to strangers. The
meowling oversized imp kissed her hand, vaping off some of the 
ambiance she received from Seth, then snitzed in righteous 
indignation. Satan's preference was stolen tongues-full of terror
and humiliation. Baalzebub saw her chance; she was more eager for
a sample of vitality than her brother. In pushing Satan aside, 
the mother of legions of evil knocked the cat-shaped fiend from 
the chair, then put its paws on the girl's shoulders and cleaned 
all the seeping residue of Seth's creativity from her face.

	Enough. She gently set Baalzebub onto the floor, and wondered 
will this essence be passed on to your children through your  
milk? The cat would not go. Baalzebub was back on her lap.

	Fine, then, and she went back to concentrating on Seth, where 
his story was going. It would seem that he sensed something 
amiss; his energies had slowed and were now held within a 
defensive shell. Not good enough, kid; it was no trouble to break
through. She'd known these people to be vampires of the most 
ordinary kind when she came here...she liked the irony of their 
being used as food for a change. Perhaps he can sense the 
drain...some of the others could.

	His story progressed in a logical fashion as Seth foreshadowed 
murder. Moving in for the kill? Had she not already known what 
his plans were for the story, she would definitely be getting a 
clue at this point. Seth seemed most personally enchanted with 
feeling what his reader should feel where he seemed reluctant to
feel what the people in his story should feel. This was lively 
stuff, what he gave her without knowing, and she almost regretted
having begun to vamp him as early as she had. No way would she 
need to take so much. Good pickings, this one. I'll remember you,
and she would. But now he was almost done, and she would have to 
draw back, else he might be harmed. Others she had harmed. She'd 
noticed their deaths were in the mind of this one, fueling the 
sense of horror he hoped to propel at his readership. Would they 
understand? They would not understand in the ways she could 
understand, given her vantage point. 

	As if in spite of his apparent penchant for the melancholy, she 
had got fond of Seth. It would be easy to survive on his 
qualities for awhile. Hell, he was young and willing... there was
alot of potential for her with him. Perhaps she need not be 
alone, and she could be nearer to sustenance, two birds, the same
stone--me. Such a relationship, should she choose it, could 
avenge the injustices breeding had done her. If  the indulgence 
were his own, he would appreciate it. And this gave her the first
genuine smile she�d had in a year or more. 

	The cats mewled their upset with the fact that she would not 
take Seth. They knew she had already decided, yet they did so 
enjoy the piquant qualities she took from others in those moments
of life just alongside death. Shush, little ones, this will be 
better than you could possibly imagine. 


	Her cry disregarded, Baalzebub became vexed and clawed the girl 
deeply for her insubordination. The girl threw the cat at the 
wall and wrapped her arm with a sheet, swearing in a language 
previously unheard on this plane. This hurt would be passed  
along the link she had with Seth as she automatically tried to 
compensate for her wound with his energy, potentially damaging 
him, but not killing him, you shit. He would have some serious 
trouble with his next bit of writing, possibly with writing 
anything at all for about two or three weeks, but he had not 
really noticed her. It would be necessary to find someone else to
drain until he recovered. Perhaps by the next time he wrote this 
well she could be near enough to him that she could forsake this 
lowly telepathic voyeurism and actually be touching him in order 
to snatch his essence. Perhaps next time, as punishment for his 
talents, she would kill him.

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