by Jerry Hart
“You can tell me who that blond guy was at the party.”
“Which one? There were a lot of blond guys.”
“The one who’s friends with...Daniel.”
David thought for a moment and then said, “Owen?”
“Is that his name?”
“Yeah. I don’t know anything about him.”
David, in fact, knew quite a bit about Owen. He knew he was different from everyone else. Alyssa had told David a few stories. However, he felt sharing those with Michael might not be a good idea.
“He’s just an ordinary guy, for all I know,” David added.
The next thing happened in the blink of an eye. David saw Michael pick the knife up; he saw a flash of light pass his face; he saw Michael put the knife back down. It had something red on it, now. It looked like...blood.
That was when David felt an overwhelming pain on his face. He looked down to see his nose was no longer there. Michael had cut it off completely. David screamed, his blood dripping down over his lips, into his mouth. Michael bent over and picked something off the floor. It was David’s nose. Michael held it between his fingers.
“Got your nose,” he said with a laugh. He looked back at Les, who gave a nervous laugh in return. David was still screaming. Michael put the nose on the table next to the knife.
“That is not all you know about this guy. I want to know more. I want to know where he’s going or I will cut off something you really don’t want me to cut off.”
David tried to stop screaming. Michael picked the knife up again and shoved it into David’s crotch, which caused him to go silent at once.
“They said they were going after some guy named Eric,” said David in a stopped-up voice. “He’s some kind of monster they’re hunting. That’s all I know.”
“Where is Eric?”
“I don’t know,” David said, spitting out blood that got into his mouth. He made sure to spit to the side as not to get any on Michael.
“Come on, man!” Les screamed. “Just tell him! He will kill you!”
David could tell Les sounded scared, as if he were trying to help him instead of intimidate him.
“Eric likes to go to nightclubs around downtown San Sebastian a lot. That’s where they found him the last time. He might be there tonight.”
Despite the pain, David tried to stay coherent. He had thought this situation was weird before, but now it was only getting weirder. Michael put his knife down and placed his hands on both sides of David’s head.
The pain was immediate: David could feel his head vibrating horribly, his face quivering. It almost felt like being shocked by a high-tension wire.
Except this was a million times worse, and it was in his head. David shut his eyes and screamed, but he couldn’t hear his scream; he could feel it in his throat, making it raw.
And then the horrible vibration stopped. David opened his eyes and saw Michael’s horrible face staring at him, but now it was covered with flecks of blood. David assumed it was his and that it splashed off of his missing nose when his head had been shaking so horribly.
Michael glanced over his shoulder to Les and said, “Thanks.” He stared at Les for a moment longer than was comfortable. Finally he turned back to David and said, “Les here thinks I kill too much, and I’m starting to think he’s right. It appears we both have problems, don’t we? I have a problem with killing and you have a problem with keeping your nose out of people’s business, so to speak.” He nodded to David’s nose on the table. “Therefore, I have an experiment I want to conduct: I want you to close your eyes and keep them closed. If you open them, I will kill you.”
“How long do I keep them closed?”
“For as long as you can.”
David looked from Michael to the knife and back. Tears were streaming down his face now. He shook his head slowly, begging Michael to stop.
“Close your eyes,” Michael said in a soothing voice.
David did so. Everything went dark. His heart raced as his hearing became magnified. He heard a chair scraping against the garage floor, heard the knife being picked up off the table, scraping it a little. Then he heard nothing at all.
A significant amount of time seemed to pass.
He felt so compelled to open his eyes, but resisted doing so. He tried to occupy his mind. He thought of the books he’d bought but hadn’t read—he was going to read them all as soon as this was over. That screenplay he’d started—he was going to finish it.
David knew he was an incredibly faithful friend. He had put up with Alyssa’s craziness for years, even going as far as to help her with her little venture. He had a lot of friends, and his friends knew things. There had been much talk about some strange characters frequenting the Trails.
A friend had told him about two weird guys that never spoke and wore strange clothes (always the same clothes, and nothing that matched). The guys had taken an interest in a couple of girls, and those very girls had wound up dead a day later. David alerted Alyssa, and she and her friends had looked into it.
Yes, David Hernandez was an incredible friend, and he didn’t deserve what was happening to him at this very moment.
He slowly opened his eyes. That was when Michael, with a wicked grin, sliced off the top of David’s head, through the mouth. David saw the top half of his own head topple end over end, landing on the floor. He worked his eyes around, seeing two pairs of feet leaving the garage.
Then he saw nothing at all.
* * *
Patterson’s Dueling Piano Bar was busy tonight; the ladies walking in were extremely tempting. Eric watched from across the street, waiting to make his move. Picking the right victim was an art; he couldn’t pick just any body. His choices depended on what he was hungry for at the time.
Of course, for Eric, it wasn’t just about satisfying his appetite. He also wanted to update his DNA so he could change appearances if need be.
He had assumed the form of Eric Spencer a while ago. He’d caught him coming out of a club a few streets down, drank his blood—acquired his memories—then took his shape.
The impostor now posing as Eric knew he couldn’t very well go around in his true form. He hadn’t seen anyone or anything that even closely resembled him, save for something he saw in a horror movie once.
He thought back to that movie and to the person he’d watched some of it with—Stephanie Polansky. They’d cuddled on her bed, the way the real Eric used to do with girls before he met his untimely end. Then, he’d sunk his teeth into her neck. He’d gotten quite a lot of her blood too before she escaped, running out into the hall where those two guys were waiting to ambush him.
Eric knew very little about his physiology, but, like a baby learning how to walk and talk, he had learned how to control his actions. He knew staying out in the sun for even a few minutes burned his skin terribly, and he could change form at will but he required a certain amount of their DNA to work with.
The only thing he couldn’t do was re-grow damaged body parts. Damage was stored into his body’s memory so no matter what form he changed into, that damage would remain.
So he donned an eye patch. It was better than nothing. He couldn’t help but feel overwhelming hatred toward the boy who did this to him—that blond kid.
Eric approached Busby Street along with a couple of people. He noticed they were staring at him. He’d hoped his eye patch wouldn’t catch that many people’s attention, but it clearly was, and more so than he felt was necessary. The people were murmuring among themselves now.
When I find that blond kid, I’m going to tear him apart.
He made it across the street now and approached the entrance to the bar. There were many girls standing about. Eric couldn’t decide which to seduce.
How about all of them?
He walked up to them and when they saw him, they gasped. It wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.
“Isn’t that the guy on the news?” he heard one of the girls say.
�
�I think so,” said another. “I thought he was dead.”
That was enough for Eric; his cover was blown. He darted off across the street, nearly getting run over. He jumped over a few cars, definitely causing a scene. Everyone around him pointed and screamed.
Eric ran down the street and made sure he was away from any nosy crowds before ducking into a parking lot to hide between a couple of cars. He struggled to catch his breath.
“Rough night?” a voice asked.
Eric saw a tall, pale redhead standing at the end of one of the cars he was hiding between. The guy was smirking. Next to him was a young heavyset guy who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.
“You have a problem?” Eric asked the redhead.
“Yes, I do. I’m looking for somebody and I think you can help.”
Eric laughed. “I’m not in the mood.” He stood up and started walking away.
“How far do you think you’ll get? A lot of people already recognize you. I’m guessing they’re not taking to seeing a dead guy walking around.”
Eric stopped in his tracks. “Do you know what’s going on?” he asked the stranger.
“I don’t know everything about life and stuff, but I do know beyond a shadow of a doubt you’re not Eric.”
“They found his body, didn’t they?” Eric asked, playing along. He planned to kill the redhead and the fat guy in a moment, anyway.
“You’re going to have to change forms if you want to get around now.”
That caught Eric by surprise. He thought about it for a second, then said, “How do you know that?”
“I know what you are. You’re a leech.”
Those words had an effect on Eric. He stepped closer to the two strangers. “Who are you and how do you know that?”
The stranger leaned against a car to get comfortable. “I’m Michael, and this is Les,” Michael said, nodding toward the heavy guy. “I know you feed on blood, and that you’re a shape-shifter. Just drinking the blood of someone gives you the ability to assume his or her personas. You also gain some of their memories.”
That was exactly what Eric was. “How do you know what I am?” he asked.
“I’m not really sure how I know, but the important thing is I do. Now, I need your help. I’m looking for somebody. I was told you’ve had a run-in with him already. His name is Owen.”
Eric shook his head. He didn’t know that name.
“He’s not like a normal person. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gave you that hole in your eye.”
“Him!” The word came out of Eric’s mouth before he realized it. “So his name is Owen? Yeah, I know him.”
“It’s not your fault, what you are,” Michael said in a comforting voice. “You can’t help that you have an appetite for blood that’s hard to satisfy. Owen and his friends have already killed others like you.”
“Others?” This was news to Eric. He had always thought he was alone, that he was the only one of his kind.
“Yes. Others. Took them down without even caring to find out what they were. I’ll bet they were just as innocent and confused as you, unable to control their actions. I need to know where Owen is,” Michael said, a note of urgency in his voice.
“I don’t know where he is. But...I may know how to find him.”
Chapter 13. The Trap
The night had just gotten better for Chris. He’d decided to call Stephanie on his cell to see how she was...and she had asked him to come over; she was at her house. She’d said she really wanted to see him again. He definitely wanted to see her.
He drove to her place on Silver Creek Road in Haltom City and parked in front of the house. Stephanie had told him to just come on in, that her roommate was at work; they wouldn’t be bothered.
Chris entered slowly, worrying he would run into someone other than Stephanie. That would have been awkward. The last time Chris had walked into someone’s house late at night was when he was meeting up with a girl to have a late-night fling. Little did he know the parents the girl said would be away had in fact decided to stay in. Chris had literally gotten thrown out on his butt that night.
But this was different. Stephanie wasn’t staying with her parents, and the two of them weren’t planning on doing anything inappropriate. He wasn’t like that anymore.
As he made his way through the house, he took note of how nice it was; he hadn’t had the time to appreciate the décor while fighting Eric. The walls were such a dark blue they almost looked black. Black-and-white pictures lined them and were quite beautiful. All of them seemed to be pictures of New York circa 1930. There were high-rise workers, sailors and their ladies, and children with balloons.
Chris stared at these pictures for a while when he suddenly realized someone was standing behind him. He spun around and saw Stephanie smiling at him. She was wearing gray sweatpants and a pink shirt with the words Boys are Stoopid stenciled on it. She had her hair down; the left side of her face was covered by it. She looked like a model.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he replied.
“I’m glad you came. I didn’t want to be alone.” Stephanie led him into the living room. There was a big-screen TV in the corner; she was watching a monster movie.
They sat down on the brown leather couch.
“I wouldn’t think you’d want to watch something like this,” Chris said, nodding toward the TV.
“Ever since the attack, I’ve just been fascinated by monsters. I think the more I watch these movies, the less scared I’ll be.”
“Interesting theory. Is it working so far?”
Stephanie stared at the TV for a moment before nodding her head. In the movie, an alien creature was attacking a scientist.
“This is the movie Eric and I were watching before he attacked me.”
“Oh.” Chris was at a loss for words. “How can you stand to watch it?”
“I’d probably be dead if it weren’t for you and your friend.” She seemed to treat his question as rhetorical.
“It’s what we do,” he replied in a deep, superhero voice.
Stephanie turned to face him, her hair still obscuring half of her face. She looked incredibly beautiful at that moment.
“You guys just run around saving people from monsters?”
“Pretty much. We’ve only killed six of them so far.”
He thought he saw her flinch at that, and he suddenly realized he might have hinted Eric, the seventh, was still alive. But then he remembered he’d never told Stephanie how many vampires he’d fought. A second later, she rested her head on his shoulder, gripping his hand in hers.
“What kind of monsters were they?”
“I like to think they were vampires, but my friend—the guy that was with me that night—thinks they were something else.”
Stephanie’s grip tightened. “Tell me about your friend.”
“Owen? Well, he’s really good at fighting and he’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. He says he doesn’t know why he’s different. I think he’s some kind of alien or something.”
Chris laughed but Stephanie remained silent, her grip getting firmer. He couldn’t see her face, but he assumed she wanted to hear more.
“He’s a good guy who’s had a tough life. His dad was killed in the meteor shower that hit Birch two years ago. After that, he stayed with a friend for a while, but that didn’t work out. Soon after, he was on the streets of downtown San Sebastian. That’s where we met.”
Stephanie lifted her head and turned to him. “You lived on the street?”
“Yeah. I was homeless for a while. I got caught up in a business venture with a friend that went sour. In the end, I wound up with nothing and no friends to help me. It was the worst period of my life. Who knew it would get better after the monsters showed up?”
“Is it just the two of you?” Stephanie asked, resting her head on his shoulder again.
“No,” he said, thinking it odd she asked. Hadn’t he already told her about the others? �
�There’s Daniel and Alyssa. Our base of operations is somewhere downtown, of all places.”
“Where in downtown?” Stephanie’s grip grew tighter.
“Wow, this movie’s really scary,” Chris said nervously, avoiding the question. Something wasn’t right.
There was nothing but silence for a moment, and then Stephanie said, “I want to see your headquarters. I want to meet your friends.”
“I think that can be arranged.”
“Now?” she asked quickly.
“It’s late, and they’re all scattered around town.”
Chris was getting uneasy about her sudden interest in him and the others.
“What about Owen? Do you know where he is?”
“He might be there. He and I had a fight and I stormed out.”
“I really want to see your place,” Stephanie insisted.
“All right,” Chris said, reaching for his pocket. “Let me see if anyone’s home.”
He reached into his pocket for his cell phone only to realize he’d left it in the car.
“Let’s just go,” Stephanie insisted.
“Okay. Can I use your bathroom first? I’ve been holding it for a while.” He squirmed comically.
Stephanie nodded as she got off of Chris and let him stand. As he walked away, he saw she was glaring at him intensely.
He walked into the bathroom and stared at his reflection. He knew something was wrong with Stephanie. Did it have something to do with the bite? He studied the puncture marks on his neck; they appeared to be healing normally.
Chris already decided there was no way he was taking Stephanie back to HQ. He was now regretting telling her where it was even located, but there was no taking it back now. He had to find out what was going on. The first thing he could think of was getting his cell phone and calling the others.
As he turned to leave, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Something was in the bathtub, the curtain not entirely closed. He could see what looked like brown hair draped over the lip of the tub. He approached it slowly and pulled back the curtain.