Vampire Manifesto

by Rashaad Bell

  Chapter 20

  Death is only the beginning…

  I could hear the flame, the crackling sound it made. It was all my mind could focus on. It was...wait... you know...this was like the most painless spontaneous combustion in the entire history of spontaneous combustion.

  "Well hello there Johnny Blaze!" The sound of a man’s voice snapped my eyes to attention. There he was, like disco lemonade, kneeling next to the body I had just drained, two fingers pressed up against the side of my victims neck.

  "She's dead." I managed.

  "Yup." Connor announced. "She's dancing with Jesus now." He stood, his attention no longer concerned with the corpse at his feet, but rather the corpse in front of his face.

  Now mind you, I've still been partly ablaze this entire time, my arm, which was the first Roman candle spark, still was in full flame mode, yet nothing burned. Not my clothes, not my skin, nothing. Not to mention the lack of pain I was experiencing. Nothing like when I burned down that apartment complex earlier.

  Connor threw a quick smile. "Don’t sweat it matchstick, I got this."

  The flame began to douse itself slowly, as if I had somehow gained immunity from the sun, yet how would that explain my apparent flame retardant clothing?

  I took a step towards his direction. "Leave me alone." I was concentrating harder than I was when I ran into that couple at John Rogers place. All I wanted to do was die. I can't live like this. I can't be the monster that fate dictates me to be. I just can't.

  "Jedi mind tricks don't work on me." He proclaimed, tapping the side of his temple with his index finger. "My mental is like Professor X before the wheelchair."

  I smiled at his response. "How are you doing this?" I asked.

  Connor reached out, his hand extended. Despite how exquisite his fingers felt interlocked with mine, I remained cautious.

  "You really want to do this here?" He questioned, his arms motioning to the morning rush that surrounded our position. The bustle had picked up, mindless automatons shuffling along their predetermined, self-absorbed lives, unbeknownst to the limited time only Daywalkers in their mist.

  He came close, so close that his lips brushed the side of my ear. Damn he smelled good. And not in that, I wanna murder you and drink you dry, then sacrilegiously discard your corpse kinda way either. I'm talking about that...damn you smell good kinda way.

  "If you wanna do show and tell Batgirl, how bout we do it at the Batcave or the JLA Watchtower? But I'd rather not have a Reading Rainbow lesson on the corner of Ain't this some Bullshit, in broad daylight. Especially since unlike me, my captivated audience seems to have an oddly severe allergic reaction to our solar eye in the sky.”

  "Fair enough." It was evident to me that Connor was somehow in control of the fire, that he wasn’t letting my body catch aflame, yet even my Vampiric mind was at a loss as to how it was done.

  The closer I looked at him, looked at Connor as Madison the Vampire and not Madison the high school kid, the more I could define his nature. I could literally see the energy rippling off his person, a cold azure intensity as he commanded the fire to disperse. It wasn’t something you could hear, this mute command of his, yet rather a subtle change in the atmosphere surrounding us as he bent the flame to his will.

  The sound of his voice trailed off, yet lost none of its intensity as the body of my deceased prey exploded into a flame so intense, so strong, that almost instantly the corpse was reduced to nothing but ash. Then even the ash burned until there was nothing left of my victim save a scorched mark on the concrete where her body once was.

  “You wanna get outta here?” He asked as if we had been best friends forever.

  I titled my head back, staring at the sun as it stared back down at me in all her glory. “Yeah.” I finally said to Connor. “I’m cool with that.”

  He pulled away, winking once before running down the block. I watched after him, mesmerized by the way his body moved. This time when he ran, I was able to track him, although just barely. Connor was a full 30 feet before he even turned his head to see if I was following. I wasn't. I was a prisoner in my mind and my only thought was of him.

  My dark haired savior.

  “Sometime today.” He never broke stride, simply shooting me a glance over his shoulder.

  Connor hopped into a cherry convertible Lexus that was parked illegally against the curb next to a fire hydrant. I followed, not waiting for yet another invite, intent on seeing this through to the end. Before I could speak however, Connor had already slammed on the gas pedal, the engine roaring to life and we were weaving through traffic.

  “I thought I would never see you again Connor.” I finally admitted to not only him, but to myself as well. “I thought you were dead.”

  “Me? Dead?” He couldn’t contain his sarcasm. “You think a pack of fucking stray dogs is enough to take me down?”

  I didn’t see what was so funny. “They killed me easily enough.”

  “Yeah, but look at you now.” Connor said. “All brand new.”

  I didn’t reply.

  “So, what’s your story Madison?” He pressed the gas pedal even harder, our speed increasing exponentially. “Is murder, suicide just your thing or is this like some strange Japanese fetish you got going on?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s just my thing I guess.”

  Connor seemed disappointed at my response.

  I looked away, my eyes focused on the palms of my hands. I could still feel my prey’s blood coursing throughout my fingertips.

  My eyes closed and I lost concentration. “Um…yeah, so why are we not burning up in the sunlight? I mean, I was on fire until you showed up and now...”

  “It’s the oxygen in your blood cells. When UV light from the sun is absorbed into your body, it causes a chemical reaction in your bloodstream, which causes your cells to vibrate on a molecular level, which in turn causes the oxygen carried by your red blood cells to ignite. I’m able to suppress that process.”

  “That’s on some X-men type shit.” I said.

  “Perhaps.” Connor stated.

  “So I was right, you really are a mutant?” I asked.

  “No.” Connor said. “I didn’t manifest this…ability until after I became a Vampire. Like I said, the transformation is different on a case to case basis, but since I'm able to manifest and manipulate flame, with practice, you should be able to as well.”

  “Oh…okay.”

  “You know I’ve been shadowing you since that whole safe house fiasco last night.” Stated Connor. “Burnt down the whole motherfucking building. Talk about the roof is on fire.”

  My eyes narrowed somewhat. “So I’m running around the city, literally running around, barefoot mind you, trying to find your ass and you were stalking me the entire time?”

  “I was making sure you weren’t being followed. If the Werewolves had picked up your scent and contacted this Translucent Man, whoever he is, about your whereabouts, better for me to lie in wait and ambush their ambush.” Connor whipped the car around a ninety-degree turn faster than he should. “And I wasn’t stalking you. I tracked you.”

  More like used me as bait. “What’s the difference?”

  He made another quick turn and we found ourselves in a white-collar residential district, pulling up into the driveway of a two story middle class home. It was ordinary. Just like all the other identical looking houses on the block. Nothing posh mind you; strictly middle class boredom all the way, utterly forgettable and charming all at once.

  “Stalking gets you three to five.” He announced, cutting the engine off. “Whereas tracking on the other hand, is a noble profession and requires skill and discipline.” And with that, he hopped out of the Lexus.

  Connor was at the front door instantly, opening it up. “Madison, I invite you into my home.”

  Though middle class, cookie cutter would best describe the home’s exterior, as well as the surrounding houses, the inside was anything
but. There were no couches or dining tables or things that you would normally find. No microwave, blenders, televisions, or things of that nature.

  No, far from it.

  There was nothing but crates. Wood crates of every possible size and shape, stacked here and there throughout the entire bottom floor. I don’t mean boxes stacked in neat little stacks and piles, just waiting to be unpacked, but rather shipping crates.

  The name CornerStone Development was plastered alongside most of them, their diamond shaped logo branded into the side.

  “What is all this?” I asked. Connor waded his way through the maze of wooden crates until he reached the circular staircase leading to the second floor.

  “Nice ain't it? It’s the backup safe house. Considering you burned down the last one, please take care, they aren’t called safe houses because there’s one on every block.”

  I followed after him, running up the stairs onto the second deck, which was just one large studio loft area. Where the downstairs gave off the implicit aura of a storage facility, the upstairs was its total polar opposite in every way.

  The whole atmosphere had changed from cold and sterile to warm and comforting. In one corner was a mini gym, dumbbells, a bow flex, I think and some other yoga looking equipment.

  There was what appeared to be one of the largest flat screens I had ever seen in person, a cream leather sofa and the most awesome, kick ass looking video game chair imaginable.

  The bed, king sized, or is it a queen? I could never remember which was the biggest, was against one of the far walls, low to the ground, Zen like and a glass case was, no…it can’t be….could it?

  I walked closer to get a better view. If my brother was here, he would have a mini nerdgasim. “Is that Action comic’s #52?”

  “Hell yeah.” He seemed extremely proud of that fact. “Along with Detective comic’s #27, Amazing Fantasy #15.”

  “When did you get them? My brother, he always wanted these issues.”

  “He can have them.” Connor plopped down on the sofa. “They came with the house.”

  “This place?” I gestured to everything around me. “It’s yours?”

  He shrugged. “It is now.”

  Such an odd response. “Who did it belong to before?”

  “Some douche.”

  I glanced at all the awesomeness surrounding me. Was that an original Millennium Falcon hanging from the ceiling?

  “What happened to him?”

  “I burned him alive.” He announced nonchalantly, pointing to a pile of ash in front of the bed. “Just because this is a safe house, doesn’t mean that technically it’s my safe house.” His fingers deftly maneuvered the universal remote control with ease. The device appeared more like a detachable panel from the Starship Enterprise then something used to select HBO or NBC.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off what was left of the previous homeowner. “So how did it happen?”

  “I’m not sure I understand the question?” Connor was channel surfing, slowing down in some instances, moving faster in others. Finally he settled on an old episode of the Spawn cartoon from the late nineties.

  “How did you become a Vampire?” I clarified.

  “I told you already. I don’t know.” Connor turned off the TV. “It’s all a blank.”

  “Interesting.”

  “How so?”

  “Because the question then becomes why? You should be able to remember and yet you can’t. Why? Trauma maybe? The painfulness of the transformation? But that can’t be the case, because I remember what happened to me, so there seems to be some type of mental block. Why? Now, it’s not like I know the ends and outs to Vampirism, I mean, I’ve read Brahms Stoker and watched one or two Hollywood flicks, but they never mentioned anything like this. Amnesia? Something so…unforgettable, I don’t know, seems like it would be listed with things like crosses, sunlight, bloodsucking and…oh yeah…some people don’t remember being turned in a vampire, but that doesn’t happen. Everybody remembers their tragic, oh you stole my life, you made me into a monster moment. Of course, there are exceptions to the rule, just like you said, but dude, really? Finding a human finger in your french fries is an exception to the rule. Yeah it happens…”

  “I get the picture, Madison.”

  “Did I paint it?”

  “Exceptionally.”

  “Hey!” I snapped my fingers. “Stop eye fucking me and pay attention.”

  “Fair enough.” He said. “We’ll have time to play later.”

  “Anyway…” I rolled my eyes, my enthusiasm in everything increasing. “The only other option, which is much more diabolical and far more interesting, is that the reason you can’t remember is because someone doesn’t want you to remember. They fixed it so you can’t.”

  Connor thought about that for a moment. “Seriously? That just seems…counterproductive.”

  “Dude, you’re standing at the mouth of madness and you’re looking for sanity? Diabolical plans are just that. Diabolical. There is no rhyme, no reason. They just are. Maybe your Maker is some evil vindictive little bitch and you’re just a pawn in her Vampire Manifesto.”

  Connor didn’t look like he was buying it. “Or maybe it’s more complex than that?”

  “It always is.” I added. “I mean, maybe she…”

  “She?” He interrupted. “What makes you so sure it was a woman?”

  I didn’t miss a beat. “Because then this discussion takes on a more male, homoerotic pretense and I’m just not ready to deal with that at the moment.”

  Connor paid me no attention. “Thirsty? I’m in the mood for a mimosa with a twizzler straw.”

  “I’ve never tried one before.”

  “Perfecto! Stick with me kid; you’ll be doing a whole lot of things you’ve never tried before.” There was something devilish in his response.

  “Wait…can I even drink a mimosa?”

  “What do you mean?” He asked.

  “Can I eat anything that isn’t blood?” Questions, questions, questions and all really good ones at that. Things I should have asked myself well before now, yet have neglected to do so. I’m like the worst…what did John Rogers call me? Fledgling. Yeah, that’s it.

  I’m like the worst Fledgling ever.

  “It might take some getting used to at first, but Vampirism doesn’t really affect your previous eating habits from before, everything will still taste the same. You just won’t receive any nutrient value from it. You won’t be able to live off it anymore.”

  Connor handed me a sparkling drink in an overly elegant champagne glass. “If you have to puke afterwards, please use the trash can.” He didn’t sit, downing the glass before I had a chance to toast.

  Connor poured himself another then bounced back down on the couch, landing next to me, almost causing me to spill my glass. “How’s it taste?”

  “Good.” I admitted. “Delicious even?”

  Connor was giddy. “Feel like you have to yack?”

  I finished the mimosa, then paused, waiting a few seconds. “All clear.”

  “Awesome!” He fired back. “Just use the bucket if your Vampire body needs to upchuck its Vampire insides.”

  “Don’t worry; I think I’m all good.”

  “Excellent.” Connor actually clapped his hands as he said that.

  “How old are you?” I asked.

  “Seventeen.”

  He did look around that age somewhat, but that wasn’t what I meant. “No, how old are you really Connor.”

  “I know what you meant.” He said. “I’m thirty-six, if you're going by my official birthdate.”

  “Okay.” I said. “That’s really not that old in the long term.”

  “For a Vampire, I'm relatively young.”

  “And how many people have you killed? Total.”

  Not the question he looked like he wanted to answer, nor the subject matter I wanted to dwell on, but now that I'm a Vampire, it was just something that I needed
to be aware of.

  “I don’t really know anymore.” He stated. “After around two hundred, I stopped counting. It’s not good, mentally, to dwell on such things after a certain point.”

  I think he could see that look of distraught on my face. This is the future that is in store for me. “After the first one, it only gets easier.” He added

  “I doubt that.” I said.

  “Let me ask you a question Madison. How many people have you killed?”

  I thought about it for a moment. “Three. A Fireman, the girl from this morning and a Cop.”

  “You killed a Cop?” He seemed somewhat impressed. “Already?”

  “Yeah.” I could see my victims face, the last moments of his life replaying in my mind. The horror it contained, the last seconds of life before death decided to offer him an eternal embrace. “But it was an accident.”

  “An accident?”

  “Yeah…” I could witness his soul dying through his eyes.

  “Oh, I kinda burned down that apartment complex to.”

  “Yes you did.” Connor stated. “Burned down the whole thing.”

  “Yeah, but that was an accident to.” I admitted. “I didn’t know what I was and the sunlight through the window caught me. I don’t know how many people were in the apartment complex when it went up, but I know people where in there.”

  “Madison, you’ve been a Vampire less than twenty-four hours and you’re already a serial killer.” He pointed out. “Perfect candidate for Vampirism if you ask me.”

  We both sat there silent, waiting for the other to respond.

  "You’re coming with me." Connor exclaimed, randomly. It was more to himself then directed at me personally. Like he was devising my destiny right there in the moment.

  "Coming where?" Honestly, we had only just arrived at his...safe house.

  "Madison, does it really matter? Do you have somewhere, anywhere that you can go that will offer you even one tenth the excitement?" He asked.

  "Well..."

  "Shut up Amber Rose, that was rhetorical at best. Besides, dead Fledgling Vampires because they don’t want to kill for survival are no bueno. like I need that on my conscious. You're on suicide watch till further notice."

  I smiled. "On your conscious? That would imply that you were in possession of one to begin with."

  "That’s subject to interpretation. Come on, this place is lame." Connor grabbed my hand without a second thought, pulling me after him like some tugboat captain on a mission.

  "Where are we going?" I never did like surprises.

  "We need to experiment." He offered back. We were down stairs and on our way out the front door before I could put a halt to his forward momentum.

  "Where-are-we-going?" I demanded, gripping more forceful then intended, the Vampire in me encroaching around the last remnants of humanity my voice had left.

  "Come on Dr. Evil, let's go be evil together." Was his reply.