Next, I searched out a small pharmacy and I repeated my smash and grab tactics to retrieve another item I was going to need that night.
When I arrived back at the warehouse I unlocked the front door, slipped into the welcoming shadows, and re-bolted the entrance closed from the inside. I turned on a few lights, just enough for my captive to be able to comfortably see me, then I rescued a small wooden table and two chairs from where they sat discarded in one corner of the large main room. Placing the chairs on top of the table, I dragged them all over to the central support wall that held the hidden door. Inside that chamber, Victor still lay chained and helpless.
I hoped.
Placing the grocery items I had brought onto the table, I prepared to open the booth. Bracing myself for the possibility that he was free and ready to attack the moment I opened the door, I accessed the concealed controls and popped open the hidden door as Jack had shown me. The results were almost anticlimactic. As the door swung toward me, I saw Victor exactly where I had left him. He was sitting on the ground, naked, with five lengths of chain leading from his body to the wall behind him. He did not appear to have moved since I left.
Although I had intentionally kept the light inside the warehouse low, emerging from the perfect darkness of the closed booth, Victor was temporarily blinded by the new illumination. He winced as he peered out toward me, trying to let his eyes adjust to the glare. When I was sure that he could see me without difficulty, I gestured for him to stand and he complied without comment.
An acrid combination of odors reached my nose. The scent of blood, vomit and urine drifted heavy in the air. Victor must have been forced to relieve himself at least once during the day while trapped in the tiny room. I did not envy him that particular experience. The smell of stale blood and vomit were unfortunate reminders of my nasty experience with the vampire hunter’s blood last night.
I stepped cautiously into the booth, still prepared for an attack. When none came, I checked the chains where they attached to the wall and where they secured Victor’s hands, feet, and neck. All seemed undamaged and untampered with. For good measure, I ran my hands along the back wall and the inside of the door to check for chips or holes that indicated he had attempted to dig his way through. His metal shackles were strong enough to cause damage to the concrete walls given enough time and persistence, but I found no blemishes to either the wall or the door. Both surfaces were smooth to my touch. When I was satisfied he was still properly secured, I stepped away from Victor and pushed one of the chairs in his direction. He accepted it passively and sat down.
Victor rocked side to side slightly as he sat in the wooden chair. I could see him testing the strength of the frame and debating how fast he could break off a piece with which to stab me. Just as quickly as the thought had occurred to him, I saw him discard it.
“No, I wouldn’t try it either,” I told him.
He did not seem surprised by my comment. “The chair would fall apart pretty fast,” he said, almost in a lecturing tone, “but there is no guarantee that any of the pieces would be sharp enough to do any good.”
“And how could you expect to reach me while chained to the wall?” I added.
“Yes, that occurred to me, as well.”
I pushed the table to a location just in front of Victor. My selections from the grocery store were laid out in front of him, and the chains did give him enough freedom to easily reach the repast I had prepared.
“You are my guest here, Victor, however unwilling you may be,” I said. “So I figure I should show you some hospitality, especially if I wish you to remain useful to me. When you finish eating, we will talk some more. For now, enjoy.”
I saw him eye the bottle of wine I placed at one corner of the table. I had opened it prior to letting Victor out of his box. “Red?” he asked.
“You would perhaps prefer white?”
“Actually, I would.”
“I’m sorry, Victor. That is all I have.”
“Then I’ll do without,” he said almost casually, but with a hint of defiance in his voice.
He had had nothing to drink all day, so I knew he must be thirsty. But I merely shrugged at his refusal. I retrieved the water jug from where I left it by the front door. I dropped it on the table next to Victor. “Here,” I said. “I don’t need you dying of thirst before we’re done talking.”
I sat down in the second chair I had collected as he began to eat. Dust rose around me as I settled into the seat and I watched the disturbed motes drift through the air before slowly making their way back down to settle on the floor. With all the doors and windows carefully sealed against letting in any daylight, there was no significant air flow in the warehouse. I noticed that Victor’s skin glistened with a sheen of sweat. I figured the narrow cell he had been trapped in all day must have been quite warm and stuffy. I briefly regretted the uncomfortable accommodations he had been forced to endure, but after reminding myself of his original intentions toward me it took very little effort to dismiss any pity I may have felt.
I did not talk or otherwise disturb Victor as he ate. I simply observed. He did not meet my gaze, choosing instead to stare at the table, pretending there was no one else in the room. I frowned pensively as I watched him consume his food, carefully considering my next questions. True to his word, he did not touch the wine, but he finished all of the other items I had brought, including most of the water.
I waited patiently until he appeared to be done then I stood with a sigh and retrieved the wine bottle.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a small taste? No? Ah, well.” I shook my head in disappointment and took a drink directly from the bottle. “It is rather good. I had pegged you for a red wine drinker, but I suppose I made mistake. Perhaps, if there is a next time, I’ll grab white. Or maybe a few beers?” I took one more drink, savoring the taste. It was sweet with just a hint of bite as it passed the back of my tongue. Not the highest quality available on the market, but still quite pleasant on the palate. I set the bottle down, upright on the ground beside my chair. “But, back to our little question and answer session. I have learned quite a lot from you, and I would like to hear more.”
I removed the table from in front of Victor and slid it aside. The table legs screeched surprisingly loud in the enclosed confines of the warehouse as they skidded reluctantly along the concrete floor. The noise echoed against the bare metal and concrete and I waited patiently for the few seconds it required for quiet to once more fill the room. I settled back into my chair and peered at my guest. He sat calmly, not seeming to be bothered by either his nudity or his captivity. Victor crossed his legs but it was more an act of getting comfortable rather than one of embarrassment. Leaning back in the chair and folding his hands in his lap, he waited for me to speak.
“Tell me,” I began, “how does a vampire change shape?”
“They don’t,” he replied. “At least most don’t. Some vampires figure out how to manipulate the darkflesh to change the shape of parts of their bodies, but they can’t change their overall shape. As long as there are still bones and human flesh intact, they dictate that the overall shape will stay more or less human.”
He seemed to think about the question a moment longer before adding, “I suppose it is theoretically possible that when a vampire is old enough that all, or most, of the human parts of his body are gone, he could manipulate his shape enough to resemble other things. I’ve never seen it and I don’t remember ever reading about it, but I suppose it could happen. Darkflesh is susceptible to the will of the vampire. I’ve seen creatures that could make small changes, so I suppose it could be done on a larger scale as well.”
“Do you know how it is done?” I asked, without any real hope of an answer.
“I’ve never done it myself, so no, I have no idea.”
I nodded, not surprised. I had only asked the question on the off chance of getting a useful tip. He had shown surprising knowledge in other areas, so I figured it was worth the
try.
“Okay, now we get to some of the important questions.”
Victor watched me carefully, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. He could hear something in my voice that he did not like.
“How much vampire blood must a human drink to be converted?” I asked him.
“Not much,” he answered, and he smiled briefly at me like an opponent across a chess board trying to exude confidence in his prowess. It was false bravado. I could see concern glinting in his eyes. “Perhaps a few drops. Maybe less.”
“And how long does the…,” I paused, searching for the appropriate word, “… alteration … take?”
“That depends. If the victim is left alive, it can be several days. Possibly as long as a week. If they are killed, the body reanimates within twenty-four hours.”
I leaned over and retrieved the bottle of red wine. I took a slow, deliberate sip before setting the bottle back on the floor next to my chair. “Does the blood need to be taken orally?”
Victor’s mouth opened, then closed again without answering. I could see the careful thought in his expression. He knew something was about to happen. Something he wasn’t going to like.
I rose from my chair and stepped closer to the hunter. Nodding tolerantly, I told him, “That’s okay. I already know the answer to that one.”
I reached into my shirt pocket and removed a large syringe I had filled with my blood earlier that night. I held it up so we could both see its contents.
It was empty.
“What the fuck!” I exploded. “It was full. How…?”
Victor stared in shock at my outburst, not understanding what was happening. Then, partly in amusement and partly in panicked relief, he began to laugh.
I glared back and forth between the empty syringe and my laughing captive, still confused but growing angrier by the moment. “What’s so funny?” I yelled at him.
Victor continued laughing, shaking his head and wiping at tears forming in his eyes. “You’re pathetic,” he said when he paused long enough to take a breath. “You really don’t know anything. How have you managed to not get killed yet?”
“There was blood in here,” I told him, holding the syringe out in his direction.
“I don’t doubt it,” he said, still struggling to gain back his composure. “It dissipated. What did you expect? How long did you have it in your pocket?”
“Explain! What happened?” I snapped.
“Your blood is darkflesh. When darkflesh is separated from the host, in this case you, it vaporizes. It ceases to exist. Whether you lose a limb, or just extract blood, the darkflesh loses its ability to hold together and disappears.”
I pulled the bright orange cap from the needle and flicked the little plastic cover across the floor. It bounced and skittered over the concrete getting lost in the dust and shadows. Before the cap stopped moving, I depressed the plunger all the way down and thrust the needle into my forearm. A bright pain lanced up my arm but it was bearable and subsided almost instantly. I pulled up on the plunger, but for a moment it resisted my efforts. With a little more force, I finally succeeded in dragging it upward. I had missed the vein and the blood I extracted came only reluctantly. That was okay. I only needed a small amount. “A few drops,” Victor had said.
Victor stopped laughing. His expression was now grimly serious. “You’re a child,” he sneered at me. “A toddler. It may not be me, but someone is going to end your existence very soon and you are powerless to prevent it. I believe that with all my heart and soul.”
“I don’t care,” I said. And then I was on top of him. The needle sank deep into my captive’s neck as I stabbed downward and mashed my thumb onto the plunger, emptying the barrel.
Victor struggled to pull away, but I moved too quickly to give him any real chance of escape. It was over before he could react. Terror and revulsion twisted his features as he realized what I had done to him.
When the syringe was empty, I pulled the needle out and tossed it carelessly behind me. I heard it clatter across the ground like the cap before it.
“One more thing, Vick,” I said, my voice cold and emotionless. “You said this works quicker if you’re dead, so….”
I took his head in my hands and broke his neck.
CHAPTER 20
The following night, I once again sat in my brittle, wooden chair outside the warehouse’s hidden prison, waiting for my reluctant benefactor to wake. The smell of urine and feces was pungent in the still air as Victor’s body had voided its bowels almost immediately after death. I briefly debated trying to clean up some of the mess as the reek of expulsed bodily fluids, both his and mine, was becoming a bit oppressive. In the end, I opted to let it be. I did not plan to be in the warehouse any longer than absolutely necessary tonight.
I was not exactly clear on how long I might have to wait, but Victor had said less than twenty-four hours would pass before the new vampire would awaken. As soon as the sun had set that night, I came straight to the warehouse to wait, and to watch.
The process of reanimation was truly remarkable to see. One moment he sat lifeless, his head lolling from a shattered neck, his body sitting upright only because of the manacles still shackling him to the wall. Then, in an instant, with an audible popping, the bones of his spine realigned and his head raised. The formerly limp body sat rigidly upright and his eyelids flicked open, instantly and fully alert. His gaze darted around the room as he oriented himself, then locked onto me.
“Welcome back, Vampire Hunter. I had begun to wonder if perhaps I had lost you for good. How does it feel to be in my world?”
Victor glared at me. His mouth formed words but no sound came out. I shook my head and told him, “I don’t know what you’re saying. Take a nice deep breath and remember you have to breathe to talk. Your body isn’t going to do it automatically anymore.”
I waited while he took one or two experimental breaths.
“Why?” he finally asked. “Why not just kill me?”
“Where would be the fun in that? Especially since you are so much more use to me as you are right now. You see, I don’t have access to your precious archives, so I am going to have to conduct my own experiments to determine what is and isn’t true.” I stood up from my chair and paced slowly back and forth in front of Victor. He continued to glower, anger and contempt visible in every line of his body.
“You know, it’s too bad you didn’t try the wine yesterday. It was excellent. Although I understand you may have feared there might have been some … contamination. Originally that had been my plan, to try to get you to drink my blood, but then I remembered a little incident I had with a couple of other vampire hunters. I suppose you could call them that, though their ultimate goal was a bit different than yours. I recalled that they said injection of blood would work just as well as drinking it. Although, come to think of it, they also thought you could store a vampire’s blood which now I know is absolute crap. I suppose this could have gone badly awry based on the faulty information I was working with.”
I shook my head and smiled. I was rambling a little, so I brought myself back to my main point. “Anyway, I decided to let you have the untainted wine regardless but, not surprisingly I suppose, you refused. Too bad. Now it’s too late.”
Victor forced himself to stand and, with shaking hands, grabbed the chain that secured his neck to the wall. I watched him closely, not sure exactly what he was doing. He appeared to be searching for a particular section of the metal restraints. He slid his hands slowly along the chain letting each link trail through his fingers. After a moment, he paused and began to manipulate one of the heavy rings. It slipped free from the rest of the chain and he let it fall to the ground where it bounced and danced on the floor with a series of high, clear pinging noises.
One by one, Victor ran his hands along each of the chains securing him to the wall and removed a similar damaged link. When all five had been removed, he turned to face me. From each shackle on his body a short length of chain
now hung loose, draping down from his body or lying in a short trail on the floor.
He was free!
The hair rose on the back of my neck as I realized how close he had come to escaping. I had checked the bolts that tethered him to the wall and the shackles on his body, but I had never even looked at the chains. He had compromised each one to free himself but had been unable to figure a way out of the concrete booth. So, leaving the chains apparently intact he had waited for me to open the door and give him an opportunity to break loose and obtain one of his weapons. The only thing that had saved me last night was that I had acted before he had the chance to follow through with his plan. It was sheer luck I had not walked away from him in boredom while he ate, allowing him to gain the advantage over me.
But why was he showing me now? Was he hoping I would see him as a threat and have to kill him? If so, it was a hopeless gamble. I knew how weak new vampires were from personal experience. As long as I kept him from the small stockpile of weapons on the floor, he posed no danger.
Bringing his hands up in front of him, fingers curled into claws, he lunged at me. His attack was more of a stumbling lurch than any manner of effective assault. I stopped his forward progress abruptly with an open hand on his chest and pushed him back into the booth. His back slammed against the wall and he grunted an involuntary “whuff,” as the impact forced air out of his lungs. Holding him upright with one hand, I used the other to remove the small ring of keys from my pocket. I thumbed through them and selected the one I wanted. I unfastened the useless shackles that remained on his body, starting with his feet then moving to his hands. If he was loose anyway, I would rather he not have the metal bands or lengths of chain to use as weapons against me. He stood passively and let me remove them. The neck collar I opened last. I tossed it behind me and let it clatter across the ground. Just one more piece of debris on the floor.
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