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Visit Moonlight's site: Grizel Zine

Dionne picked up a postcard from her mailbox in the foyer of her apartment building. It was from Moonlight and showed another beautiful and interesting place that his band had visited. 

It read: “My dearest Dionne, We’re staying in a beautiful place. The people we play to are very welcoming. Wish you were here. I love you. Your loving companion, Moonlight.” 

Dionne was worried. Moonlight’s letters had been getting shorter and shorter. When he’d first left, he had written her every day, telling her about the tour and how much he loved and missed her. 

Slowly, Dionne walked back to her apartment, a heavy feeling in her heart. She pushed open the door and walked in. Collapsing on the couch, she closed her eyes. She was so worried and there was no way she could get in contact with Moonlight. 

They weren’t in one place long enough for her to write and she had no phone number. He wasn’t replying to his e-mail even though he had his laptop with him. Dionne desperately wanted to know what was happening. 

Dionne walked down the main strip of Tilburg and surveyed the scene. Eventually she turned into her usual bar, ‘Darkness.’ She was known here and she knew that, more often than not, she could find a willing victim. 

Inside, she collapsed onto a barstool. The bar’s owner stood a few feet away. He was propping up the bar and smoking a cigarette. He was dressed all in black, black shirt and black leather trousers. Dionne lit her own cigarette and looked at him. Since she had become worried about Moonlight she had started smoking again. 

The owner looked back at her, his eyes hard and almost uncaring. He ran a hand through his short hair, his dark brown eyes constantly boring into her. Dionne bit her lower lip and turned her eyes away, nervously tucking some hair behind her ear as she did. 

She wondered if he would be a willing blood donor. As she smoked her cigarette, she noticed that he was moving closer to her. Eventually he sat down beside her, his eyes demanding that she looked at him. Close up, Dionne could see that he was quite good-looking. ‘Evening, Dionne,’ he said. 

Dionne took a long drag on the cigarette and carried on looking at him. ‘Evening,’ she replied. He looked deep into her eyes and Dionne began to feel uncomfortable. There was something in his eyes that wasn’t right. It was a drugged look. Or the look of a vampire. Dionne moved her eyes away, not wanting to look at him. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. 

Dionne didn’t even know his name, why was he talking to her? She stubbed out her cigarette and turned to him. ‘What’s your name?’ she asked. The bar owner looked taken aback at the way she spoke to him. ‘Jareth,’ he replied. Dionne held out her hand to him. ‘Hi Jareth,’ she said, ‘I’m Dionne but you already knew that.’ 

Jareth released her hand. Dionne sighed and turned her head away. ‘So,’ said Jareth, ‘what do you do for a job?’ Dionne rolled her eyes. Typical chat up line, she thought. She turned back to him. ‘I’m a vampire,’ she said, sarcastically. ‘You’re a role player then?’ he said ‘No,’ said Dionne, ‘I really am a vampire.’

 Jareth leered at her. ‘Very sexy,’ he said. ‘F..k you,’ retorted Dionne. ‘Certainly,’ was Jareth’s quick fire response, ‘where and when?’ Dionne looked at him and decided to play along. ‘How about your place. After closing.’ Jareth just stared at her, his jaw wide. ‘Ok,’ he managed to say, before slinking off. Dionne smiled to herself. 

Bingo, she thought, dinner was served. Dionne hung around the bar all night. She was still reclusive but she had to find food somehow. The local hospital had told her they couldn’t keep up with both hers and the patient’s demands. And as the patients came first in this equation, she had to find another way to obtain blood. Which meant hitting the streets again. 

Or coming here. Dionne knew she shouldn’t go with strangers but that was a rule for mortals. She could easily overpower Jareth if she had to. That was what she was thinking as she got in his car. He drove a small, red car. Dionne smiled to herself. 

She had noticed in her first year living in Holland that everyone seemed to drive small cars. It was probably something to do with the economy because fuel prices were very high. One of the many reasons why she didn’t drive. After a hair-raising ride through the city, they pulled up at a modest suburban house. He led her quietly inside. 

The instant she was inside, Dionne felt uneasy. She knew that something wasn’t right. The house had a strange, almost gothic feel to it. Directly in front of her, a skull rested on a table. There were two black candles, one on either side of the skull. Jareth prevented her from seeing any more of the house. He took her hand and began to lead her upstairs. 

Dionne pulled back, reluctant. ‘Come on,’ said Jareth, ‘you said you’d prove to me that you’re a vampire.’ ‘I will,’ Dionne replied, ‘just not upstairs.’ Jareth looked at her, an evil smile forming on his lips. ‘That’s real sexy,’ he whispered. Roughly, he pulled her to him and grinned. 

And that’s when Dionne saw them. At either side of his mouth were two pearly white and very sharp fangs. Dionne screamed and struggled. ‘That’s it, baby,’ he hissed, ‘tonight you f..ked with the wrong guy.’ 

Jareth grabbed her head and wrenched her head to one side, revealing her throat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him lick his lips, as his fangs extended. The next thing she knew was Jareth’s fangs in his flesh. 

Seconds later, she slipped into unconsciousness. When Dionne came to, she found herself in a dark, damp cellar. There was water running down the walls, making Dionne uncomfortable. She moved away from the wall, scratching her bare skin on the stone floor. Then she screamed, a powerful, immortal scream. 

A few moments later, the cellar door opened and Jareth walked in. ‘WHAT?!’ he screamed. ‘What am I doing down here?’ she demanded.

‘I want to play with you,’ he sneered. 

Dionne stood up and lashed out at him. Jareth grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. Dionne screamed as her tiny bones broke. He laughed as she writhed on the floor in agony. 

Slowly her bones healed. Dionne got to her feet again, rubbing her newly healed wrist. Jareth grabbed her by the throat, and, with an unhuman strength, pushed her against the wall. 

His smile was evil, his fangs glinting in the low light. Dionne knew that something was going to happen. Jareth kept his hand on her throat, forcing her chin up so that her eyes were looking into his. ‘I’m hungry,’ said Jareth. 

Slowly his fangs extended, saliva dripping from the sharp tips. A thumb resting under her jawbone, he pushed her head to one side. Then he lowered his mouth to her throat. As his sharp teeth grazed her flesh, Dionne reacted. She brought up one hand and slammed her fist into the side of his head. 

She had hit him hard enough to cause him to fall to his knees. Sometimes she underestimated her own strength. Jareth was only temporarily dazed and Dionne knew it would only be a few seconds before he was back on his feet. 

She sprinted up the stairs and into the main body of the house. She could hear Jareth close behind her. Quickly, she slammed the door shut behind her. As she headed for the front door, Jareth slammed through the cellar door. He grabbed her by her shirt and threw her to the floor. 

He sat on her and pined her to the floor. Dionne struggled but she knew it was useless. She was powerless against him. Jareth put a hand on her throat, knowing that she hated having someone try and strangle her. She reached up and gripped at his wrists, desperately trying to push him away. 

But it was no good. ‘This is it,’ hissed the vampire, ‘I’m going to have you, right here, right now.’ He began to force himself onto her, knowing that there was no way Dionne could get away from him. Slowly he smiled at her. 

A few hours later, Dionne found herself free to leave but not without a warning that she was being watched. She fled the house in tears. It wasn’t often that she cried but being raped had been the last straw. 

Moonlight’s last few letters had been worryingly short and she had started to fall back into depression. She slowly walked towards hers and Moonlight’s secret place; the pool in the wood. Quietly, she sat beside the shimmering water and stared at the reflection of the stars. 

She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette and Zippo. Nicotine raced through her veins although what she really needed was blood. Before Jareth had let her go, she had found out that she had been unconscious for almost twenty-four hours. 

He had also taken some of her blood and now her level was low, too low. As she finished her cigarette, she got to her feet. She couldn’t stay here; the memories were too painful and her blood hunger was screaming in her brain. Back at her apartment, 

Dionne ran into her kitchen and grabbed a bottle of blood from her fridge. Normally she sipped it from a glass but her hunger had reached boiling point. She poured the entire contents down her throat. Within seconds, her senses had sharpened and she found that her tiredness had gone. She was more aware of his surroundings. 

It was then that she noticed the light on her answer phone flashing. She walked over to it and pressed the play back button. Her outgoing message played and then the incoming one. 

It was from Moonlight. ‘Dionne, honey,’ said the answer phone, ‘listen carefully. I need you to call this number. 031 – 5550876. I love you.’ Then it went switched off. 

Dionne grabbed her phone and dialed the number. A voice picked up. ‘Dionne,’ said the voice. ‘Who is this?’ Dionne demanded. ‘Dionne, I need you to listen. I have your precious Moonlight hostage. If I don’t have one million guilders within the next forty-eight hours, then he dies.’ 

‘Jareth,’ Dionne hissed. ‘That’s right,’ hissed the voice at the other end of the phone. ‘Where is he, you bastard,’ she screamed. ‘You tell me. You can call me on this number,’ said Jareth as he hung up. 

Dionne slammed her phone back into its cradle. ‘BASTARD!’ she screamed. She sat on the couch and buried her head in her knees. Tears flowed freely, staining her cheeks. 

What could she do? She felt so tiny and vulnerable, like there was no one she could turn to. Eventually, she lifted her head and tried to think clearly. Firstly, where was the money going to come from? She had no credit card so she couldn’t just hand that over. 

But there was Orion’s money. Switching on the computer, she logged onto the Internet. She could easily check the account from there. She found the bank’s website and typed in her name, account number and password. The computer asked her to confirm the information by asking her some personal questions.

 Dionne answered them all correctly and the computer let her access her account. ‘Ok,’ said Dionne, let’s see if we can get Moonlight back.’ The account stood at ‘fl 99, 968, 000.’ ‘Shit,’ whispered Dionne. She still needed 32, 000 guilders. 

Visit Moonlight's site: Grizel Zine

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