A Circling Vulture

by iridescentzen

I own nothing. It has been over four years since I've written a single piece of fan fic. This is my poor attempt at getting back into fandom and writing again.


It was in the fog of an Ambien and a glass of whiskey that Kirsty opened her eyes to her long dead stepmother sitting in the chair across from her.

"Hello, Kirsty. It's been a while, yes?" Julia said in her meticulous way as though every word was mulled over in her brain before she uttered it.

Kirsty's eyes narrowed dangerously, taking in everything about the woman she had only ever detested. The most noticeable feature was her skin: whole and pure like it was before Kirsty wore it like the world's worst costume.

"It has," Kirsty said coolly, eyeing the cigarette perched between the dead woman's fingers. "If you put that cigarette out on my hardwood floor I'm going to punch you in your icy fucking face."

Julia laughed the sound coming deep from her belly. She assumed her best "innocent" face. "I'll be good girl, Kirsty, just like you used to be. I promise." She stood up, the sleek silver dress she wore now looked dated, but she was perfectly preserved.

Walking to where Kirsty was sitting, she circled the woman until she came face to face.

"Daddy's brown eyed girl," Julia said, crouching to Kirsty's eye level. Her cool blue eyes studied Kirsty's face intently. "How old are you now, Kirsty? 40? 45? Time ceases in the labyrinth, but I can see the crinkling around your eyes and the deepness of the lines on your face."

"Do you have a point? I could be dreaming of better things right now than you."

Julia cocked an eyebrow. "You assume you are dreaming? How interesting."

Not knowing why, Kirsty indulged her by answering with her age, "I'm 44."

"Ah, so like a good little cockroach you have outlived us all," Julia replied, taking a drag from her cigarette. She made a circle of her lips rather dramatically before blowing the smoke in Kirsty's face. "Daddy would be so proud!" she said, deadpanned.

Kirsty barely reacted to the smoke in her face, but frowned at the word daddy.

"Except that he wouldn't be, because you killed your husband just like I killed mine," Julia put her finger on Kirsty's lips before any utterances could be made. "Shush now. No excuses, darling. No comments about how we're nothing alike. We are the same. It's what fuels us that make us different. I loved a man so much I was willing to kill to bring him back to life. You loved a man that wanted you to kill yourself so he could have all your money. You killed your husband because of rage and spite."

Julia's finger was lingering much too long on Kirsty's lips.

Kirsty shrugged. "We are nothing alike, Julia."

"Oh, how the fallen angel lies," Julia said, smirking. "One day you are going to close your eyes and not wake up, and when you do – Uncle Frank and I will be here waiting for you. Who will you run to then, Kirsty? The demon lover you tell yourself doesn't exist even as he thrusts inside you?"

Kirsty startled awake, happy that the dream didn't have a shred of reality in it. That is, until she turned her head and noticed a still lit cigarette burning a mark into her hardwood floor.

Julia.

Kirsty scowled.

What a bitch.

End.