The Foreigners

They had been in the village three days
when the truckload of men with guns came.

Outside, the moon was a disc of wax.
Inside, a silence had overcome the bar.
The woman was beautiful, fair-skinned,
and she whispered to Edward (with
careful urgency):
"Edward, tell them that we will be
gone in the morning. And we will
show them where we hid some money
. . . if they will just let us go."
Blue-eyed John, the husband,
looked at the mob and sweated.
He nodded to his translator,
"Yes–tell them, Edward."

The leader began shouting, 
waving his gun at Edward's face,
"Desde qu'e llegaste–poq ay tanto muerto?
Poq todos scan muerto!"
Edward took a deep breath
and told the men the situation,
in the best way he could think of:

"Esta gente son vampiros. Si aprecias
nuestru vida y la vide de tus hijos,
nos matarias. Ahora."
Stunned silence followed.
The fire crackled.
Then the leader laughed so hard
his spittle hit Edward in the face.
"Vampiros! Esta gente–"

The woman stood up suddenly,
her fair skin reflecting the fire.
Moments later,
gallons of blood covered the walls
and dripped from the ceiling.


Loose Translations (thanks, Tony!)

Leader: "Since you arrived–why so much death?
Tell me why everyone is dying!"

Edward: "These people are vampires. If you value
your lives and the lives of your children,
kill us all. Right now."


"The Foreigners" Copyright © 2014 by D. Wickliff