Blogophilia 27.10 Fallon Part 3

It’s time again for Blogophilia, the fun group where martien gives participants prompts to use in their weekly blog. This week’s prompts are:

Ecrits Blogophilia Week 27.10 Topic – Sometimes I Wish…
Bonus: Hard (2 pts) Include a lyric from a U2 song
Easy (1 pt) Incorporate the word “diaphanous”


And so we are ending Fallon. Considering I had no plan for this story at the very beginning, I am shocked to see how long it ended up in total. Yeesh. Next week should be Franklin’s turn, unless I skip ahead and write Griselda instead.


Belle was easier to persuade than Fallon thought she’d be, and soon they were packed into her ’54 Hudson Hornet and headed down the dark highway. Somehow the hulking vehicle, a remnant of Lara’s favorite era, seemed the perfect choice to rescue her in.

“Thanks again,” Fallon said from the roomy backseat.

Belle gave an airy wave. “I’m overdue for a vacation, anyway. Though I admit you two weren’t the companions I had in mind, I suppose you’re better than Noris.” She laughed, then added. “And we might get some action. That’s always a plus.”

Fallon wasn’t so sure about that.


As they traveled south, they left winter behind. The cold tempered down to cool, and the naked tree branches gave way first to pine and then to the occasional palm tree. At a gas station they bought a map of the city. Fletcher spread it out on the hood of the car while Belle eyed up a patron, no doubt more for dinner than anything romantic.

“Okay…” He checked the xeroxed paper. “Aha! It looks like they’re right there.” He jabbed the map.

Belle abandoned her ogling to follow his finger. “And where are we?”

“Here.” Fletcher pointed to another spot, halfway across the map.

Sometimes I wish we could just teleport places, like that Star-whatever show,” Fallon commented.

“And miss the fun of the journey?” Belle jerked her thumb towards the car. “Hop in or get left behind.”

He didn’t bother to explain how bizarre that would be. As he shut the back door he imagined Belle and Fletcher showing up at the den without him, and trying to explain to Lara why they were there. It would almost be worth it.

If my sister wasn’t in danger.

Except, as they drew closer to the address, Fallon realized there was no proof she was in danger. That’s why he hadn’t filed a report, or mentioned it to any of the Executioners – not that he thought they’d be excited about helping, anyway. She’d been gone a little over a week, and his own visions showed that she had been alive and well a day or two ago. He had no way to reference the images with exact times. True, she and the redheaded woman hadn’t looked like they were getting along in any of the visions, but neither had anyone openly hurt her.


He closed his eyes and sought one more vision. He concentrated on his sister, on Warren, and pictured a calendar. He knew he could only see the past, but maybe he could manage earlier tonight, or last night at the least.

The darkness behind his eyes disappeared, revealing the familiar front room in their den. Warren handed Lara a box. Curiously, she removed the lid and folded back tissue paper with a squeal. A dress with a fifties’ cut was pulled free, light and airy, made of pale yellow and decorated with delicate roses.

Lara held it against herself and spun so that the knee length skirt flared out. She dropped it only to throw her arms around Warren. “It’s so beautiful! Oh my God! It’s perfect!” She let go and dropped back to stroke the fabric heap in the box. “I’ve always wanted a dress like this.”

Warren chuckled. “I know, baby, but your tight wad brother won’t let you buy it – won’t let you spend your money. You got plenty squirreled away. Why not enjoy it?”

Her face darkened. “Fallon says it’s better to be safe. We’re immortal. Living forever means having expenses forever, and we don’t know what the future might bring.”

Warren cupped her face in his hands. “And that’s why you left that loser in the dust, huh? It’s just money, baby. It’s easy to find.” He cut her noncommittal reply off with a kiss.

The vision snapped to a close and Fallon glowered. What he’d assumed was a gift had been purchased for her using her own money. What kind of ass hole was this guy?

It wasn’t just the money that left a bitter taste, but the words. They sounded like Orson’s before he’d left.

“I’m tired of this more-of-the-same crap! We’re vampires now! We shouldn’t be pretending to be humans!”

“We’re not pretending to be anything,” Fallon had snapped. “Becoming immortal doesn’t change who you are inside. Lucien explained-”

“Not more Lucien-this and Lucien-that! He’s not God!”

“He’s my master, and yours! You’d do a damn sight better job to respect him, boy!”

With a roar Orson had lunged. Lucien, who’d been politely pretending not to hear from the next room, intervened at the last second. Orson swore, and finally Lucien told him to go if he wanted to.

“I won’t hold another against their will.”

“Good riddance to all of you, then!” And Orson had stormed out the door into a heavy summer night. Though Fallon had wanted to follow, Lucien held him back.

“He wants to make his own path. You must let him. Even if it hurts you.”

And it had. Sure, he’d seen Orson a few times over the last one hundred-plus years, but never for long. Orson always made it clear he wasn’t interested in full reconciliation, in joining them again, especially when he found out they lived at The Guild.

“You’re one of their dogs?” he’d demanded. “An Executioner?”

“No,” Lara interjected, maybe trying to make things better. “He’s only a guard.”

Orson’s only reply was, “That’s even worse. All the shame, but none of the power.”

It’s probably a good thing I don’t have power, Fallon mused. I’d just abuse it like everyone else.


The den was a small house, painted tan, with a palm tree in the front yard. A scraggly flower bed was surrounded in lopsided rocks, and the roof needed re-shingled. Heavy curtains covered the windows, leaking only a small amount of light.

Belle parked on the street and they climbed out, shutting the doors as softly as they could. Fallon strained his hears and caught the soft sound of a television, but nothing else out of the ordinary. Part of him had hoped to catch them in some desperate and violent act – then Lara would already know what they were up to, and be glad to see him.

Now I’m going to have to convince her.

Belle caught Fallon’s attention, motioned to Fletcher and then, with a wink, seemed to disappear. Fallon jolted, then scoffed at himself. She and Fletcher were both phantoms, meaning they could blank themselves out in other’s minds. There were those who were resistant to it, but Fallon wasn’t one. He had no idea where they were, and hoped he didn’t trip on them on his way to the door.

He stopped on the porch and tried to think what to say. Nothing came to mind, so he decided to do what the Executioners always did: wing it.

He drew his shoulders up and knocked forcefully, like Griselda would. A moment passed. The TV quieted down and whispers followed that he couldn’t quite make out. He knocked again. Finally, footsteps padded to the door and he heard locks unbolt.

The door opened a crack and a dark eye peered through. “What do you want?”

Fallon used his shoulder to push the door open and shoved inside to a little entryway littered with shoes and umbrellas. The vampire stumbled back with a cry of surprise, then surged forward, scowling. “Look, bub-”

“I’m here for Lara. She better be alive, still.”

“What’s all this racket?” Warren strode through the doorway, then stopped with a glare. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for Lara.” Fallon pushed away the vampire who’d opened the door and closed the distance between himself and Warren. “And as I said, she better be in excellent health.”

Warren crossed his arms and held his place. “Why wouldn’t she be? She’s in the living room.” He raised his voice and called, “Lara! Your lunatic brother is here!”

A scurry of activity followed, and then Lara hurried through the doorway, wearing a diaphanous dress of pale yellow embroidered with roses. She stopped short and stared openly. “Fallon! What…Didn’t you get my letter?”

“Oh, I got it,” he said firmly. “And now we’re going home.”

He moved for his sister when Warren clamped a hand on his arm. “Not so fast, buddy. She is home.”

“No, she’s in your den, waiting to be killed, or whatever it is you do to all the vampiresses you lure here.”

“Excuse me,” Lara demanded.

“Warren and his coven mates. They lure women here, and kill the and then-“

With those words the storm blew up in her eyes. “Are you insane?” She shouted. “Fallon, I know you don’t like Warren, but really? Do you expect to believe-”

“The Executioners have been sent here five times,” Fallon insisted, ripping free of Warren’s tightening grip. “Five time, looking for missing vampiresses. Each time, their former coven mates say that the woman left with a good looking vampire, arrived here, wrote a couple of letters, then disappeared.”

Lara’s anger wavered, and Warren quickly added, “I can’t help it if they don’t stay. It’s Teresa. She chases them off.”

As if called, the redheaded vampiress from Fallon’s visions appeared at the doorway, her tresses pulled back, wearing a pair of green capris and heels. “Hardly. They’re trying to get away from you, Warren, and your little friends.” She eyed the goon who’d opened the door. “Not that I blame them. If I was a weaker woman, I’d have left long ago, too.”

“There,” Lara said angrily. “Does that explain it?”

“No, not really. If they left, where did they go?”

Warren shrugged. “I dunno, man. It’s not my problem, ya know what I mean? The chick splits and-”

Fallon charged him and grabbed the front of his shirt. “And you bury them where? In the backyard? Burn the bodies and scatter the ashes on the beach?”

Warren snarled and pushed him off hard enough to knock him into the wall. A heap of umbrellas clattered over, and Lara jumped with a squeal.

The other two vampires Fletcher had said lived there, appeared, hands fists and lips pulled back from angry fangs. Teresa moved aside so they could pass, then turned back for the living room. “The commercial’s over. Try to keep it down out here, boys.”

She was barely gone before the goon and one of the new comers grabbed Fallon by the arms and slammed him back into the wall again. Lara’s hands held back a cry that her wide eyes echoed; a cry Warren ignored as he leaned close to Fallon’s face.

“Look here, Guild piss ant. You’re gonna turn around, get back in whatever car you brought here, and go back to Iowa before I rearrange your spine, you got me? Lara is a big girl-”

“You think I’m going to walk away and just let you kill her?” Fallon writhed in the vampires’ grip, trying to get leverage to push away with his foot. “Why do you do it? What’s the point? Some sick cult, like on the news?”

An umbrella skittered across the floor on its own and suddenly Belle appeared, holding a small leather bound book. “I think it’s more mundane than that. Money.”

Warren jumped in surprise, and Fallon used the distraction to wrench free. As a greater guard he’d undergone combat training, and with a couple of well-placed kicks and one good punch he flattened his captors to the floor.

The goon charged, but Fletcher materialized in time to knock his legs out from under him.

Fallon charged Warren, but Lara threw herself in between them with a cry, “Enough!”

Though Fallon pulled up short, Warren snickered and shoved Lara into him. They fell back, and Warren used the surprise to grab and umbrella and swing it at Fallon’s head, barely missing both of them.

Lara jerked free from her brother and spun back. “What in the hell?”

A second swing of the umbrella knocked her off her feet. She hit the floor with a cry, skidding through the doorway into the next room. Warren waved the broken umbrella menacingly, then threw it aside with a snarl and lunged for the book in Belle’s hands. “I don’t know where the hell you came from, but you better give me that.”

She deftly hopped aside, the volume held above her head like a game of keep-away. “I don’t think so, buddy.”

Fallon hesitated between helping them and his sister, finally settling on the later. He plunged through the doorway to find her seated on the floor. Her hands covered her nose, trying to stem the flow of crimson that ran between her fingers onto her dress. The sobs that shook her shoulders only added to the picture of misery.

The TV was still playing a late night talk show, but the couch was empty. Teresa had hightailed it. Not that Fallon blamed her.

He dismissed the thought and crouched down quickly, one eye on the doorway where he could see Warren lunge for Belle. The vampiress disappeared, and Fletcher tackled him from behind. They rolled together, bowling over the goon. It was one of the other two that dragged Fletcher off, but by then Belle was visible, brandishing her Guild-issued dagger.

“He hit me!” Lara gurgled. “Did you see that? He-”

“I saw,” Fallon said gently. “Let’s go get your stuff.”

She waved her hands emphatically, revealing a broken nose and missing front tooth. “But he loves me!”

“Sure he does.” Fallon scanned the floor, looking for her tooth. If he couldn’t find it, she’d end up like that forever…

A crash came from the entryway and the goon flew past to land nearby in a bruised heap. He groaned and started to rise when Fallon kicked him in the ribs. “I’d stay down.”

Lara gave another wail and leapt up, waving her bloody hands. “I’m bleeding! All over – my dress! My new dress! Look! Look! It’s ruined! Oh Fallon, it’s ruined!”

“You might try peroxide.” His reply was lost under her wail, and when he looked up she’d already disappeared, presumably to try to clean herself up.

Fallon kicked the downed vampire one more time, and saw the small white tooth glittering just a few feet away, near the leg of a coffee table. He gave a huff of relief to see it all in one piece, jammed it in his pocket, and turned back for the fight that was still raging. He owed Warren a few missing teeth.

As if she sensed his intentions, Belle broke off from engaging Warren. Fallon charged, fists swinging. He dodged, and swung, dodged, swung, until his knuckles connected with Warren’s face in a spray of blood. The vampire fell back, and Belle and Fletcher hurried to restrain him. He struggled, shouting, “Doug! Tyler! Where the hell are you guys?”

“They’re down for the count.” Belle chuckled. “Just like you’re about to be.”

Fallon grabbed a broken umbrella and raised it, pointy end down, like a stake in a vampire slayer movie. Warren writhed and squealed. “Okay! Okay! Take your sister and go! For the love of…Killing other vampires isn’t illegal!”

“Not if you follow the laws,” Belle agreed. “For instance if there is an official war with their coven. Are you declaring war on all five – I’m sorry, I forgot Lara – on all six covens?”

“In that case you can’t kill me!” Warren half-screamed.

Fallon smiled. “Yes, I can. I’m Lara’s coven, and when you planned to murder her, you planned to war with me. Look at this as the end of our war.”

He raised the umbrella higher. Warren shrieked and mashed his eyes shut, his whole body tense for the death blow, but Fallon hesitated. Technically, he could probably fudge this, make it look legal, but even so it might be a black spot on his record. If he ever wanted to advance to Executioner…

On the other hand, knowing Malick, having committed murder would make him a better candidate. Plus, the Guild would only kill him anyway.

Warren cried out as the umbrella met with his rib cage and snapped.


When Teresa came back, trailing cigarette smoke, her coven members had been restrained with electrical cords. Fallon knew they could break free if they really wanted – they were vampires – but he’d pointed out that cooperation would look better when they went to trial. Warren lay where they’d left him. Belle had gleefully used her knife to finish the job, but she’d been careful not to dislodge the umbrella. “I almost hope it’s still there when they come to o the formal investigation. I want ‘death by umbrella’ to be written in this ass hole’s records forever.”

Teresa took one look around and offered full cooperation. “I was never really in on it,” she explained with a puff of smoke. “I knew about it, of course, but I didn’t condone it. Of course. I wasn’t the coven master, so what could I do? Though they didn’t leave fast enough, I did my best to be unpleasant and run them off.”

Fallon doubted her unpleasantness had anything to do with saving their victims, but he wasn’t up to the argument. Leaving Belle to call The Guild, and explain how they had a report to make while on vacation, he went in search of Lara.

A small hallway led back from the living room, lined in doors. Through the last one, he could just hear the refrains of, “…and they call it puppy love.”

With a silent groan, he pushed the door open. The room was small but decorated in modern furniture with lots of brass. Lara was heaped on the floor in front of her record player, still wearing her bloody dress.

She swiped miserably at her face and winced as her thumb dragged over her gap. “I suppose it’s not as bad as the last time. Though at least Stone let me keep my teeth.”

Fallon tugged the tooth out of his pocket and offered it. “If you put it back, when you go to sleep-”

“The gum will grow back around it,” she finished.

“Or you could stick it back and we could find you some blood. That accelerates the healing.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve been a vampire for one hundred and forty years-”

“No you haven’t,” he said gently. “You’re only one-hundred-thirty-eight, and you were human for eighteen years.”

She waved him away with a soft smile, then sagged. “I knew it wasn’t a fairytale forever after, but I thought it would last longer than two weeks.”

Fallon nosed his foot at the edge of a blue and red rug. “I’m sorry.”

“I suppose you killed him, then?”

Fallon nodded and she sighed. “It’s a shame. He was good looking. To be honest, though, I’d noticed he liked to spend my money and not his. He even bought me this with my own money.” She held up her arm to indicate the dress. “Imagine using someone else’s money to buy them a gift?”

He didn’t have the heart to say he’d already used his abilities to see that. “I really am sorry.”

She used the brass bed to pull to her feet. “You’re just sorry you’re still stuck with me. You were hoping I’d be like Orson and finally go away.”

Though they both knew it was a joke, Fallon still flinched. “No, I wasn’t. I wish he hadn’t…” he shook it off. “I really do wish you’d find someone and be happy. But first you need to work on your taste in men.”

Her chuckle was more sad than amused. “That, brother, we can finally agree on.”



Topic: Gerard

Picture: Stormy

  1. black beauty 2.dark horse 3. Seabuscuit 4. Shadowfax 5. Black Stallion 6. mare 7. walk in the woods 8. mane 9. autumn beauty 10. in the trees 11. fallen leaves 12. soulful eyes 13. black velvet 14. steed 15. running free 16. runaway 17. gallop 18. trot 19. canter 20. I bet Jonathan magically guesses this using voodoo.

About Joleene Naylor

An independent author, freelance artist, and photographer for fun who loves anime, music, and writing. Check out my vampire series Amaranthine at or drop me a line at

4 responses to “Blogophilia 27.10 Fallon Part 3”

  1. Martien (Marvin) says :

    Excellent continuation! 8 points Earthling!

    Martien aka Marvin

  2. Roger says :

    Reblogged this on Three hoodies save the world and commented:
    It gets better and better.

  3. Irene says :

    I wish I could teleport, too. 🙂

  4. BarbaraK aka fiddlbarb says :

    Such wonderful storytelling. I love it!

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