I walk a straight and narrow path most nights. The alleyways are the nicest way for a vampire to travel, but not when you’re heading to Avant’s Garden. All of the straight paths into this property are closed off. To enter you are forced to come in from around the corner by some other street. I made the out of the way journey into the garden to find walls and trellises covered in a flower that may have been a cross of morning glories and angel’s trumpets. I’m no botanist, but it seemed as good as any guess.
As I went further in things were easier to navigate and I was able to enjoy the wide selection of flowers in full bloom, their strong scents teetering between overwhelming and just right. There were a few other admires there when I went, clearly human. “You should see these flowers during the day, it’s so different! We’ve been dying to see them at night when they’re in full bloom.” I bore my fangs at them both to say, ‘I don’t like day time’ and ‘You have no idea what sort of dying you’ll be doing here this evening.’ After the brief distraction however, I continued on with my exploring unperturbed by any further notions of what something would or wouldn’t look like in a time of day that’s deadly to me.
Deeper into the gardens the fragrances became more potent still and it was obviously attracting some other creatures of the night beyond traveling vampires. Bats flew overhead, swooping down from time to time to snatch up a prey and there were plenty of those. Large and small bug alike hung around these parts feasting on my blood and whatever else bugs ate when there weren’t vampires or humans to eat. I made a mental note to send Avant some citronella tiki torches, a few hundred should help. My skin was already swelling from bites and wearing nearly a second skin of bugs I was actually starting to feel the blood loss.
Pressing on, to the center of the gardens was a marble pond with bright flowers and fish, lily pads and frogs. The water looking inviting and looking around the pond there was many and more flowers around it and near it; calling this place a garden was an understatement. It was more along the lines of a nursery where every random flower of the night was brought to flourish. Although overdone, it was nothing to sneeze at.
After spending some time at the pond I went on, making my way out of the garden, and found a nice little stone bench surrounded by black roses and white jasmine. It was the only part of the garden that seemed to have a specific theme or order and it was nice. A skunk sat beneath the bench as possums hung from a nearby tree. This place had a way of attracting creatures of the night, but more and more I began to suspect that that wasn’t very well thought out. Avoiding a skunk seeming to be poised to spray I saw a bright white pedestal amongst the black and white flowers with an urn resting atop. ‘Dawn: You Are Truly Missed. R.I.P. 1976-2005’ was inscribed and suddenly it made sense that this place should be here just the way it was. It wasn’t meant to be a resting place for travelers, it was meant to be a home to a special ghost dear to someone’s heart.
