The July Editor's Pick Story is by

Kristen Houghton

Please feel free to email Kristen at: krisnalan2@msn.com

THE INVITED ONE
by Kristen Houghton

The howling woke her in the middle of the night; an oddly thrilling sound of love and longing that made it difficult to go back to sleep.

It wasn’t all that strange to hear the sound of wolves howling in the winter months. The small college town of Middlebury in Vermont was surrounded by woods and farmland. The howling was as accepted a part of life in March as the sound of snow crunching under your feet or the sound of tires whirring on the ice. As the old Vermonters were fond of saying, “Wolf howl just is this time ‘a year.”

The problem was that the howling seemed so much closer than in winters past. The wolves had been seen coming right up to the edge of the small town late at night. Food was scarce due to a lack of natural prey; woodland was being bulldozed in the name of progress and the food chain was being diminished.

Elise felt for the wolves in their hunger. Their nightly howls tugged at her heart. Poor, wild creatures. But still, she reasoned, she would hate to run into a wolf when she was walking home from her job. It was, after all, a predator, lonely or not.

Peaceful and still, and wolves notwithstanding, Middlebury was a practical place for Elise to be. The solitude suited her aloneness. Forty-two years old and never married, she was the ‘media specialist’ for the college; a fancy name, a modern name for librarian.

Tuesdays through Fridays were her late nights. She stayed at the library until it closed at ten. Staying late was good for her; what else did she have to do?  There was no one waiting for her at home. Alone, always alone, she thought. Maybe she identified with the loneliness of the wolves more than she realized.

But she had a secret. Tuesday through Friday were special nights for her. Those were the nights she saw him, the man she called her Mr. Lonely Heart.

He arrived sometime between nine and nine-thirty and sat on the wide lower steps leading up to the door either reading a book or writing in a journal. Occasionally he would glance up at the windows with an intense look and Elise thought she saw something like a smile flit across his face.

Certainly the old-fashioned globe fixtures near the front door gave off enough light to enable him to read and the heavy portico doorway enclosing the steps gave a shelter of sorts from the elements, but she still wondered why he never came inside the library.

At first Elise had thought, a little jealously, that he was waiting for someone, some lucky woman whom he would kiss and embrace before walking away into the night for a late dinner or perhaps simply a drink. But no, no one ever came; he was always alone.

Her Mr. Lonely Heart.

Lonely Heart; it was a silly expression that her grandmother had used to describe someone who was always alone. Dressed impeccably in a heavy black hooded sweater and grey slacks, her Mr. Lonely Heart was good-looking in a blonde boyish way though she guessed that he was in his middle thirties. Maybe a first year professor, maybe a grad student, she thought, Mr. Lonely Heart was a constant Tuesday through Friday.

Elise laughed a little bitterly at the thought; she was a lonely heart too.

The old town clock struck ten and Elise prepared to leave. As she was closing the doors a few minutes after the hour, Mr. Lonely Heart rose from the steps, turned to look at her with eyes she could only describe as sad, turned and walked down the quiet campus street. She watched him until he turned a corner down by the old French restaurant. If she thought about it, she would be hard pressed to explain exactly why she did this. It simply seemed that she had to see where he went. Elise wouldn’t think of approaching him; that was too forward. Why would he be interested in a lonely spinster like her?

Since she lived only a few blocks away, she began to walk home.

“Miss?” A half block from the library, she was startled by a voice and the touch of a hand on her shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, Miss,” said an elderly man behind her. “Only, don’t you know that it might be dangerous to walk alone at night?”

“Oh.” Elise felt disappointed that it was not Mr. Lonely Heart. “I’m fine, seriously.”

“But there are wolves hereabouts, didn’t ya know?” the old man told her. “It was on the news again. The police say that wolves might start comin’ into town ‘cause of the lack ‘a food. They’re hungry. Some sheep were attacked in a corral four miles from town. Damndest thing, the sheep owner said his guard dog, big German Shepherd, ran scared from ‘em.” He paused. “Don’t you hear ‘em at night? The wolves?”

“Yes, I do.” She sighed. “They sound lonely.”

The old man looked at her with surprise. “Lonely? Well, I guess. Last night though, miss, round midnight. Real chorus of howls there was. Nothing lonely about it.”

“Maybe they’re only howling at the moon. My grandmother had a lab dog who used to do that all the time. Perhaps they're doing the same thing.”

Shaking his head, the old man said there was a difference between a dog’s howl and that of a wolf. “Dogs howl, well sure, they’re descended from wolves, but their howl is more subtle and non-threatening. Now a wolf…a wolf howl sends the shivers through you. It sounds lonely like you said but it also sounds…dangerous.” He paused and then said gallantly, “I can walk with you a ways. I got my cane here and it’s a heavy chunk ‘a wood.”

Elise smiled and shook her head no. “I live just a street away. It’s well-lighted; I’ll be fine. Thank you, though, for offering.” She saw him shake his head again at what he considered her foolhardiness as he walked away.

Her old house was at the edge of the campus, a small quaint, old-fashioned one that suited her. As she got ready for bed she thought about the man outside the library, a lonely romantic figure and her imagination embellished a history about him. Maybe he was a man who had tragically  lost someone he loved or been wounded by someone who rejected him. He had come to this small college town to escape his past pain and begin a new life. Sighing, Elise poured herself a glass of scarlet red wine and stood at her bedroom window. The night was soft and warm for winter but, remembering what the old man had said about wolves, she opened the window just a crack, no more.

It may have been the two glasses of wine she drank coupled with her imagination but just as she was falling asleep she thought she heard her name being gently called. “Elise, Elise, soon, Elise.” Then she heard a distant howling and it filled her with a strange intense longing. She woke, drenched in sweat.

The next morning, as she was dressing, she heard on the news that a student had been killed two miles away from campus. His throat had been ripped apart and police and hunters were looking for a wolf or pack of wolves. So the old man had been right. The wolves were coming closer to the town looking for food. Except, she thought idly, the report had said nothing about the wolves eating the man, only that he had been killed by them.

That night at the library the senior citizens who were there talked about nothing but the attack. Even the few college kids who came in because they were getting cabin fever from being cooped up in their dorm rooms, joined in the conversation, the excitement of a horrible happening overriding age.

The old man with the cane from the night before was there. “Weren’t much blood, so I’ve heard. Got a friend works down at the morgue, you know just cleanin’ the offices and such. Said he heard the coroner talkin’ and sayin’ that for such an attack there shoulda’ been a whole lot more blood. Where’d it go? Weren’t in the ground; the cops checked. And ya know? A hungry wolf will eat what it kills and there were no flesh missin’. Strange.”

An elegant, elderly woman with some type of Eastern European accent laughed and said, “There are others who hunt out here. Just like in my country.”

“Wild dogs?” asked an eavesdropping boy who was passing by. “Bears?”

The elderly woman smiled and lifted a jeweled hand. “Not wild dogs, no. Bears? Never!”

“Then what Stasia? What are you talkin’ about?” said the man with the cane.

Stasia looked around at the people gathered near her, relishing her moment of power. “Vampire, that is the creature of which I speak. The perfect hunter.”

After a long moment the college kids laughed and the older library patrons just smiled in tolerance. Elise muffled a surprised laugh herself.

“Ah yes, laugh. Vampire, I say. And I tell you something else: you know what all the howling means? My papa told me stories of what the howling means. Ha! It means that the creature is looking for a mate, yes, a mate. The vampire sends the wolves.”

There was an astonished gasp at what she said and then another burst of laughter but Stasia didn’t seem disturbed by that. She continued, “Yes, you will see, this creature has longing for someone of the same kind or someone who can be turned into the same kind. An eternal love, ha! No creature wants to be alone.”

Half-listening to the conversation, Elise glanced out of the high arched windows to the steps below. There he was, Mr. Lonely Heart, standing and looking directly at her. The look was frank and sensuous and she stared back transfixed. She felt as if he was willing her to look at him. Someone came to her desk to ask a question and she reluctantly turned away. When Elise glanced out the window, her Mr. Lonely Heart was sitting on the steps, reading as usual.

“A mate? Oh, Stasia, really now.”

“A mate I say. And something else. The howling of the wolves means that a human must extend an invitation. No vampire can enter unless invited. The creature sends the wolves and waits.”

The elegant old woman paused, then looked directly at Elise. “Whatever you do,” she said, “do not invite anyone you don’t recognize into your house. They cannot cross your threshold unless they are invited. ”

“Stasia, you are very entertainin’ I’ll give ya that,” laughed the old man with the cane. “Vampires and mates! More likely a lone, rogue wolf. Animal Control will get ’em.”

“You will see,” Stasia said, nodding and smiling. “You know what you told me about the first body and very little blood? No flesh eaten, just the throat ripped out? Wolves eat what they kill, but the other one, the one of whom I speak, drinks only the blood. No need for flesh, just blood.” She stood up slowly and with effort. “These kills only sustain the vampire until a mate is taken.”

There was silence for a few minutes after Stasia spoke and then Elise told the remaining people in the library that she had to close earlier tonight.

“I must close. I have to be here very early tomorrow morning. They’re putting the finishing touches on the façade outside with a new saying over the door. I chose the saying and I have to make sure the words have been spelled correctly; it’s in Latin, you know. Anyway, I’m sorry to have to close. Please get home safely.”

Elise began shutting lights. Automatically she looked out the window and saw her Mr. Lonely Heart walking away from the steps. It wasn’t even nine-thirty yet. Why was he leaving? She had a sudden urge to warn him of wolves. Instead she turned her back on him.

“Anyone who wants a ride, my car is right outside,” offered a teacher, and her offer was quickly accepted by the remaining four senior citizens as well as Elise. Vampires be damned, Elise decided, the real danger is likely a rogue or rabid wolf. Better safe than sorry.

That night Elise dreamed that she was bathing in warm, red wine. Sweet, sticky, and warm. Mr. Lonely Heart was in her dream watching her bathe, but staying a distance away. His eyes were sad and filled with longing. “Elise! E-l-i-s-e!”

She was awakened by a long, lonely howl. Bolting to a sitting position, she felt the hairs on her arms rise. Her heart ached. Lonely! No one wants to be alone. No creature should be alone.

*****

Her day at the library went well. She inspected the hand-carved, very expensive sign and monitored its placement over the very center of the portico. The sign was beautiful and the saying, an old one from academia, could clearly be seen from the street. She was very pleased.

Elise attended an administrative meeting during most of the two hours that the library was closed and returned promptly at six to open the doors for the senior citizens waiting for her. The talk, as expected, was all about wolves and possible attacks. Hunters were everywhere as were the State Fish and Game Inspectors.

No wolf had been found but the howling continued louder than before.

Old Stasia was at the library again. “The vampire has chosen a mate; that is why the howling continues even into the morning. The louder the howling, the more intense the longing, my dear papa used to say. Yes, soon the vampire will have someone with whom to share eternity! Did you know they mate for eternity? How tragically beautiful!”

Elise shook her head. Old tales from the old country. The woman should write a book or at least a short story about what she believed. Maybe the college literary magazine could publish it.

Mr. Lonely Heart arrived late that night. It was almost nine-forty-five when he stood on the steps and gazed at the new sign over the portico. Elise had found herself looking out the window wondering if he was coming tonight. It comforted her to see him though she didn’t know why. She was relieved to finally see his figure outlined by the old lamps. As if he sensed that she was watching him he turned towards the window. Slowly raising his hand he pointed at the sign and shook his head as if with approval. Elise smiled and went back to her computer. When she looked out the window again he was gone.

“It’s ten o’clock,” announced the teacher. “Anyone want a lift home?”

There was a rustle as the people began to pack up their things and put on coats. “What about you, Young Lady?” asked the old man with the cane. “Want a ride, do ya?”

Elise smiled and said that she had to finish the media center’s monthly report.

“How ya getting’ home then? Shouldn’t be walkin’ so late alone.”

“Oh, no, I'm not going to walk; today I have my car. I had some boxes that were too heavy to carry so I put them in the car and drove in this morning. My car is right out front. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, you be careful now. I can stay if ya want.”

“No, really, I’m fine. I’ll call the campus security to come down when I’m about to leave.”

“You do that now. And lock the door after we leave.”

As the group was leaving, the elegant old woman walked up to the desk, placed a hand on Elise’s wrist and looked into her eyes. “No one should be alone, no one,” Stasia whispered and smiled. Elise followed the group to the door and locked it behind them.

At ten-thirty Elise was ready to leave. The monthly report had been emailed to the administrators and she was done. Looking out the window she saw that the street was quiet and deserted. She decided that there was no need to call security. Her car was just a few steps from the library’s stairs. She’d be safe.

“Elise.” She thought she imagined it at first…someone calling her name. “Elise, E-l-i-s-e.”

The voice was low but it startled her and she turned. There was someone there. Standing in the doorway of the library was her Mr. Lonely Heart.

She smiled at him in surprise. How did he know her first name? And his gaze, his gaze was so direct.

“You surprised me; I thought the door was locked.” She felt tongue-tied and shy. “I was about to close up for tonight but if you need anything…I can stay.”

“Only you, Elise.”

“What?”

“You, Elise, only you.”

She looked into his eyes and a thrill of fear hit her heart. He came closer and she saw his smile showing teeth which would have been perfect if not for the sharp, dangerous canines the smile exposed. Her heart pounded in her at the sight and she backed away. Vampire, the old woman had said and Elise had laughed. Vampire! No it’s a silly old wives’ tale. No!

“How did you get in?” Elise asked fearfully. “The door waslocked. I locked it myself! It…”

“I came at your invitation, Elise.”

“I didn’t invite you!” Elise was on the verge of a scream and the vampire sniffed the air smelling her fear. “Vampires can’t come in without being invited.” She was backing away towards the door.

“Yes, Elise, my darling girl, I am here at your invitation. Didn’t you realize that? You knew, subconsciously, you knew what I am. You wanted me, and oh how I wanted to come in here to you. I simply had to call you and wait. And finally you let me know that I am the invited one.”

She turned and ran towards the exit, knocking over chairs in her haste. In a flash, he was there blocking the way and reaching for her.

“Elise, E-l-i-s-e!” He hissed her name slowly and seductively. “You are the one I have been searching for; your loneliness drew me to you. You are the mate for whom I have longed so desperately! All I needed was your invitation.” He sniffed her skin, her throat. “That old woman is right; vampires mate for all eternity, my beautiful Elise!”

She fought him and he seemed to admire her strength; a struggle and strength born out of fear. The vampire played with her like a cat with a mouse and their struggles overturned a table and knocked a computer screen onto the floor.

Then he sank his teeth deeply into her throat, and drained her to near death. Holding her gently, he lovingly began the process of making her his eternal mate. After a while, Elise stopped her sluggish struggling and looked into his eyes. She half-smiled as she saw her fate. 

No more Lonely Heart ever again. Ever again; for all eternity. Her invited one had saved her from loneliness.

*****

The police were summoned the next morning by a hysterical woman who had come in early to use the internet. The door had been wide open and there were signs of a violent struggle. There was no body but there were a few drops of blood spatter. Elise’s car was still parked in front of the building.

“At least it's not a damn wolf attack,” said the detective to the crime scene people gathered there. “God, those were real stomach turners.” He paused halfway up the steps of the library. “What are you looking at, Cate?” he asked one of the women from the unit.

The CSI on the scene had paused in her work on the bottom steps and was looking above the detective’s head, past him to the top of the doorway. “That sign above the portal,” she pointed.

“Oh yeah?” The detective squinted up towards the portico. “What’s it say? It’s not English.”

The CSI technician looked at him and smiled. “It’s Latin.  It says Intrabitqui exquirunt prudentiam.”

“And what the hell does that mean, Miss-I-can-speak-another-language-and-am-showing-off?"

She laughed. “Sorry. I’ll translate it for you. It’s actually a very beautifully worded ancient invitation. It says, Enter in all ye who seek knowledge. Isn’t that nice?”

Kristen Houghton writes "nice little horror stories" guaranteed to make you check your locks and look under the bed before going to sleep." Her book, Stolen Property- Tales of Terror, is in pre-publication. She is currently at work on the Catherine Harlow, Private Investigator series where her detective encounters plenty of horrors of her own. The first in the series is due to be published in late 2013.

Kristen is the former head writer and fiction editor of Mused Literary Magazine. Besides blogging for The Huffington Post, her portfolio includes a weekly column for the new, innovative TwoDayMag.com, writing for More Magazine, the San Francisco Examiner, and various other in print and online magazines. She also writes under the name CK Houghton.

A California girl at heart, she and her husband, Alan reside in the New York City area which is "magical." For more about Kristen, her books and short stories, please visit www.kristenhoughton.com/

Kristen Houghton is the author of the following popular books: