Six unearthly figures made their way slowly across the parched earth that stretched ahead of them. Occasional sprouts of thin wiry grass caused them to wend their course slightly. Their black vestiges contrasted sharply with the harsh glare of the late morning sun as they glided supernaturally over the sand-dunes. All six wore sunglasses, as though the bright light would blind them if they were exposed to it, their white skin reflected the sunlight in harsh flashes. An unearthly sound, like all the demons of hell screeching at once, announced their arrival. Like six little Deaths they steadily continued their journey down the beach until, without warning, one of them stumbled and fell flat on its face. It tumbled down the side of the dune, it’s sunglasses flying off into the air, and its black garment flailing high into the air. It looked like a crow trapped in a washing machine.
“Oh, nice one Suspiria,” barked the lead figure, with barely concealed venom. “How to blow our mystique in one easy step. Stupid bitch!”
“Sorry, Vamp,” whimpered Suspiria, through a mouthful of sand. She got unsteadily to her feet and replaced her sunglasses. Brushing the sand from her dress she looked around at her companions for support, but none looked in her direction. She put her head down and cursed the sand.
Vamp turned to look at the other figures and gestured for them to stop their procession. Knee high velvet boots with six-inch heels are not ideal for walking on sand, so although the command was heeded, it took a little while and a lot of falling over until it was carried out.
Vamp waited huffily, her hands on her hips and a finger tapping impatiently. When the procession had finally steadied itself she began to talk, but after trying to shout over the music for a sentence or two, she waved her arms frantically and gestured to Lucretia to turn off the ghetto blaster. Lucretia, not fully understanding, turned it up and the music became ever more deafening. Vamp, now absolutely furious, stumbled over to Lucretia and grabbed the ghetto-blaster from her, stabbed the off button and with obvious fury she turned on the girl and shouted, “I said turn the fucking thing off, you stupid little cow!”
Lucretia, absolutely crestfallen, looked silently at the floor. A single tear appeared behind her sunglasses and rolled down her powdered white cheek.
“Right,” said Vamp, “unless I have to repeat myself for the twentieth time, you don’t need me to tell you how important it is that we appear to totally aloof of everything but ourselves. We are a clique! And we are a clique on very, very important business. If anyone else wants to make us look ridiculous then I suggest you do it now and get it over with so we can continue our hellish journey over the parched white desert to where our dark destiny awaits us.” On this last part Vamp drew herself up to her full height and twirled her arms dramatically.
“But Vamp, I just trip…” tried Suspiria.
“Shut up, you! You don’t want me to notice you again today!” shouted Vamp, shooting Suspiria a look so cold it could have put out the Sun.
“Anyone else want to test me?” she waited a few seconds, the other girls looked uncomfortable and all tried to avoid Vamp’s gaze. “No? Good. Music please.” Lucretia picked up the ghetto-blaster from the floor, pressed the play button and the six started on their way again, Suspiria stumbling slightly as they went. Vamp just shook her head in disgust, “Idiots,” she mumbled under her breath.
•
After three centuries under the seabed, The Demon Glib was becoming a touch bored. There was only so long one could listen to the sound of the tide coming in, then going out again. If he heard another conversation between seagulls about ‘how it were all fish round here when we were young,’ he swore he would forget the ancient lore and climb up out of his sandy prison of his own accord.
During his time under the sand, ‘resting’ was how he liked to think of it, rather like an actor – just ready to come back for his greatest, most acclaimed role, The Demon Glib had been gifted rather a lot of time to think. Too much bloody time to think and he’d come to the conclusion that it had been quite stupid, in fact almost suicidally stupid, to allow himself to be buried here for a drunken laugh. If he ever got hold of Easty and Clive he was certain they would pay for their dire treatment of him with their blood. “We’ll come back for you in a couple of hours,” Clive had shouted as the pair giggled off drunkenly down the beach. Well, three hundred years later and he was still here.
The Demon Glib was pulled away from his musings by a very loud and very consistent banging. Over the next couple of minutes the sound became louder and bangier. After another couple of minutes, The Demon Glib had decided that it was quite possibly the most horrible sound he’d ever heard. The banging was soon joined by a terrible screeching. The cacophony went on for about five minutes; getting steadily louder until it was unbearable then, all of a sudden, it stopped.
‘Thank God for that!” thought The Demon Glib. He listened carefully and when he heard no more he decided that it was probably a boat or some such aquatic device. He was just drifting off into a contented sleep when he heard a female voice speaking an almost familiar phrase, it sounded like…yes, it was his incantation, someone was trying to raise him. Thank Christ for that. He grimaced at the butchered Latin that made a mockery of his beautifully crafted spell – the spell that would bring him back. Mangled phrases limped down to him through the sand. ‘Oh well, better than nothing and about time too,’ he thought and waited expectantly to be up and about again.
•
Vamp stood in the middle of the circle formed by the other five girls, all holding candles in front of them at arms length. She had her arms raised dramatically and was reciting what sounded like total gibberish from a crumpled bit of paper laying at her feet.
She was midway through the all-important introductory incantation when a slight breeze blew up and the bit of paper began to lift slightly in the wind. Vamp tried to catch it but just as her hand was about to close on it, the wind increased and off it went. Flying off across the sand. It passed the circle of other girls, who hadn’t even noticed its flight, and happily made its way out to sea. Vamp dashed off after it but, after a few metres, her heels got the better of her and she stumbled to the sand in despair, looking up just in time to see the spell nosedive into the sea.
“Damn,” she spat, on the verge of apoplexy. Picking herself up, she took off her boots and stamped off down the beach. The other girls remained sitting in the circle, oblivious to the watery demise of the spell and oblivious to the fact that Vamp was now halfway up the beach and making her way home. But mostly, they were oblivious to the fact that, under the sand, The Demon Glib was still waiting patiently to be raised. After three hundred years surely another few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

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