Slay: Stories of the Vampire Noire

by Slay (epub)

  Ten minutes after coming in contact with my saliva, my victim usually needs to sit down as the sedative takes effect and then begins to smile in a dreamy way. It is easier to tell with men, as they start to become erect.

  * * *

  Right

  Living with Wayra alleviated my loneliness, but she wasn’t good company. She was too quiet. I found that I had to be the one to start and maintain conversations. Wayra had been a djinn from birth. While still an infant, she had whirled around the room. Fortunately, her mother had shut all the windows and doors to keep her trapped. She had had a normal childhood but had not learned regulation until she was a teenager. Her lack of control caused her parents to keep her at their farm tending the animals. When she could restrain herself, they allowed her to attend school and she moved to the city where the rest of her family lived most of the year.

  * * *

  Left

  Wayra and I captured a bear. Wayra had isolated a man alone in the snow, but when she dropped my victim, it was a bear. I was disappointed and wanted to drink blood, so tried to stay calm in the face of her mistake. “Wayra? It’s a bear!” I stated the obvious. “No, it isn’t. It is a man,” she said. “Let’s take him home and then I will find you another person.”

  She transformed and disappeared with the bear. A few moments later she returned with a soldier.

  * * *

  Back

  I hoped and prayed that I could drink the blood of animals. It doesn’t work. I lose my senses as my body is overcome by pain as if animal blood is poison to me.

  * * *

  Right

  Satiated. I walked back to the place where we were living. Curious, I asked Wayra, “Where did you put the bear?”

  “In our apartment.”

  “What? Why did you put a bear in our apartment? Are you insane? When it wakes up it will go on a rampage and destroy everything!” I shouted at her.

  She shrugged and said, “We’ll see when we get there.”

  * * *

  Left

  A man was sitting in our living room reading a book and sipping hot tea. I could only stare.

  Wayra pushed past me saying, “I told you he was not a bear.”

  “Hello, call me Wayra.”

  “That means wind in my language.” He nodded in understanding. His accent was American but had a guttural quality that marked him as Native American. “I’m Gruffin. Call me Gruff.” Why was this happening? Who was this bear or man or what?

  “He is Tariq.” Wayra volunteered my name without my permission. He looked me over, obviously contemplating if I was normal or something else.

  “You are a…bear?” I asked.

  He smiled and I was momentarily dazzled. He was handsome when he smiled and there was charisma there, too. I, on the other hand, am ugly. Truthfully, it was as if I got all the bad components of every one of my antecedents. My only commendable feature was that I was tallish and thin, but the latter was because of my blood diet.

  “I’m a shape-shifter.”

  “He’s a vampire.”

  At that moment I wanted to slap Wayra. Why did she keep telling him my secrets? Why did she trust this Gruff?

  She said, “Are you hungry? I just fed Tariq.”

  Gruff, again, looked at me inquisitively. I had had enough and went to my room, but I could hear the two of them eating and conversing. This was probably for the best since I couldn’t eat and drink with them anyway.

  * * *

  Back

  While my victims are sedated and slightly aroused, I can walk away or kill them. Most of the time I kill them. I know the effect of my saliva and if I have gone through that trouble, then I need blood. I do not use my spit casually.

  * * *

  Right

  Wayra had shown little curiosity about me being a vampire. She was equally not curious about Gruff being a shapeshifter.

  * * *

  Left

  Gruff spent time learning everything about our abilities.

  “What do you mean you have never tested it on Wayra? Let’s do it! Wayra do you mind if we test Tariq’s spit on you?”

  “Only if we can test it on you, also.”

  Gruff said, “That’s fair. You want me to go first?”

  “Yes.”

  I interjected, “Wait, I haven’t agreed to do this.”

  “Oh, come on. I think we should know,” Gruff said. I took his hand and licked it so that I wouldn’t have to hear him talk anymore. He was shocked then went to the other side of the room and sat down. I was slightly offended since I had already told him that I could not drink the blood of animals. I was sure that his blood was some unholy mix of human and bear. Wayra moved close to Gruff and watched him. After several minutes he got an impressive erection. Wayra’s eyes widened then she started smiling. Gruff got a goofy grin. The next moment he was a bear.

  I panicked, “Oh, shit!”

  Wayra observed Gruff. “I think it is fine. He seems sedated.”

  * * *

  Back

  Once sedated and aroused, I take them to a safe location to kill them. My saliva makes them docile and it takes little persuasion to move them to a better location. Oh, there is a time limit to the effects of my saliva, and it is about an hour.

  * * *

  Right

  When it was Wayra’s turn, we decided to put her in an empty closet to be safe. I kissed her hand. She rolled her eyes. I wondered if she would remain so indifferent once my saliva did its magic. As with Gruff, Wayra turned into a tornado after ten minutes. Then she banged around the closet for about thirty minutes. Gruff asked, “How much longer?”

  “It usually lasts an hour, but I think she is back to normal.”

  “How do you know?” Gruff asked.

  “It’s quiet.”

  I opened the closet and picked up Wayra who seemed to be sleeping. Gruff rushed to check her pulse and her breath. “I didn’t think that maybe she could have an adverse reaction to your saliva. We seem to be so immune to death…” he said.

  * * *

  Back

  Once in a secluded location, I bite them. Bite isn’t quite correct. I locate a vein and slice into it with my sharp incisors. My saliva starts producing an anti-coagulant nearly identical to garlic that keeps the blood from clotting. Then I drink all of their blood by sucking it out of their body.

  * * *

  Right

  Wayra was fine, but every now and then I would catch her staring at me with a new expression on her face. Then, when I caught her staring, she would just keep staring. I had long concluded that Wayra was peculiar. I would be the first to break eye contact since I knew she would not. “You are not hungry?” Wayra asked me. As the winter had progressed, I had gone from killing every three days to killing once a week.

  “Yes. I seem to be on a weekly schedule,” I answered.

  “It must be Gruff,” she said.

  “What? What do you mean?” “You eat less since I caught Gruff.”

  Back

  When the blood enters my mouth, my body changes the chemistry of my saliva to something much more potent. I produce a stronger sedative similar to extracts from the poppy plant. This keeps them still and induces a euphoric state.

  Left

  “Spring is here. We need to leave Ukraine. I don’t think it is safe for you and Wayra to hunt anymore,” Gruff said.

  Gruff had begun shape-shifting when he was a teen-ager. His people recognized him and his abilities immediately. They even had an initiation ritual that taught him how to control his transformations. He had left his people because he felt too exposed; among them he had an elevated status similar to a shaman. He felt that everyone treated him with deference yet caution. Not even his family treated him normally. When Gruff first entered our lives, I festered with resentment. I couldn’t help but be upset that both Wayra and Gruff could eat normal human food. I was the evil one. Their abilities could be harmful, but they didn’t use them that way. Just to live
I had to kill. There was nothing positive about me being a vampire. All I did was kill.

  “Where should we go? I want to see America!” Wayra said.

  Gruff said, “I don’t think that is a good idea. I have had too many close calls back there.” That was the first time that I saw Wayra pouting. It did not improve her looks.

  “You are both American and don’t want to go home,” she said.

  “You are in no hurry to return to Syria,” I said. She nodded in agreement.

  “I’ve always been fascinated by Africa,” I said.

  Right

  Wayra owned the Sahara. Gruff and I were just along for the ride. She put us down at an oasis in Chad. Since we did not want to be found or traced, we did not have phones. Instead I had a handheld GPS unit that I used to keep track of our location. It gave me some feeling of control when, in reality, I was at the whim of wherever Wayra wanted to take me. She couldn’t cross water, but once on land she was unstoppable. I wasn’t bothered by how long it took to travel, but Gruff could only go without water and food for a day. So, we stopped every night for Gruff, but Wayra ate and drank as well. I had never paid much attention to Wayra’s eating habits beyond the fact that she ate normal human food. I had gotten used to Gruff but still felt a sting of jealousy when they sat down to eat together.

  Back

  Then near the end, as if my body knows just the right moment before death - the chemicals in my saliva change again to include a high dose of the hormone oxytocin that evokes their final dying orgasm. The pleasure in their eyes as they die is heinous, foul, horrible.

  Foreword

  A European man walked into our camp. I was startled and licked my palm to stun him with my saliva. Gruff jumped to his feet and was a bear in the blink of an eye. Wayra swirled then stood in front of the man holding her hands out to stop us. “What?” I asked. I grabbed ahold of Gruff’s fur at his neck to hold him next to me. He started crooning and rolled onto his back exposing his belly.

  “Shit, my spit!” I said.

  Moments later we were treated to the sight of a bear’s erection.

  Wayra said, “There is something about this human…”

  The man seemed unnaturally calm as if it wasn’t the first time, he had seen a bear’s erection. It was a sight that I hoped to never see again. “What are you doing here?” I tried to be threatening.

  His voice was even as he said, “I work here.”

  What did he mean by here?

  “You mean in Chad?”

  “Yes, but I work with plants. I am studying this oasis.”

  Right

  We spent several days at the oasis. I had thought that Wayra was too quiet, but he gave her a run for her money.

  Foreword

  Like Wayra, without fan-faire he said, “This is not a good place for you, Tariq.” His words depressed me. Demarcus seemed ordinary, but he had some strange thing with plants. Gruff and Wayra accepted him into our group without consulting me. I was the monster and now this kind stranger was doing the same as Gruff and Wayra: protecting me and taking care of me. Demarcus said, “I suggest we go to my home which is east of Abéché and close to the border with Sudan.” I smiled in sick pleasure as Demarcus’s face took on a look of shock as he was embraced into the Wayra tornado. Then I was flying with him and Gruff.

  Back

  The last phase is getting rid of the body.

  Left

  Gruff said, “This place is amazing!” He examined the inside of the house, then walked the gardens surrounding the house. There were four bedrooms. I took the one that looked easiest to break into from the outside. I hoped to make a meal of a burglar in the future. Gruff came in asking for my GPS. “I need to check something.”

  The house was shaded by four enormous trees. I recognized one as being a baobab. The gardens had several types of palm trees. There were vegetables, leafy greens that looked edible - at least edible for Demarcus, Gruff and Wayra.

  “I’m right,” Gruff said. “Demarcus? Where are you?”

  Foreward

  Demarcus sauntered out of the bedroom next to mine. He said, “Yes?”

  “You have this entire place laid out cardinally. Was it intentional? Even the four tall trees mark north, south, east and west.” Gruff said. I shook my head and went into my room. There was a layer of dust that needed to be cleaned. I returned to the central space. Gruff and Demarcus were still talking.

  “So, you arranged everything until you felt things were in balance?” Gruff asked.

  “Yes,” Demarcus said, “Once everything was in their correct place, they grew at twice their normal rate. If a plant isn’t thriving, I move it until it grows better.”

  “So, is it that you felt things were in the right place or did you move things until they grew?” Gruff asked.

  “Where are the cleaning things?” I interrupted.

  Demarcus pointed.

  Right

  Wayra fell in behind me. I turned towards her broom in hand.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “It has been over a week.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Don’t kill Demarcus.”

  I had to get ahold of myself before answering with forced calm, “I won’t kill Demarcus.”

  “He is a special human, but still human,” she said. I was beyond words. How could she think that I would kill a person that she had befriended? I gently moved her aside and headed towards my room.

  Foreword

  Demarcus followed me into my room. “Do you know about the conflict in Darfur, Sudan?” he asked me.

  “I’m a war correspondent, of course I know about it.” I began sweeping the floor of my room. Demarcus was silent for a long time.

  “That is a perfect job for someone like you.” I give him an irritated glance and kept sweeping. “I have a housekeeper. By the way, are you married?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t fit my idea of a …vampire.”

  “Demarcus, don’t start. Is there something important that you want to say?”

  “Welcome to my home. I hope that the three of you come to think of it as your home, too.”

  I dropped the broom and walked out of the house into the garden. I found a shady spot to sit by myself and cry.

  Back

  I do not eat or drink. I survive on human blood alone.

  Left

  My need to kill diminished with time. Gruff swore that it was because of the way that Demarcus had cardinally aligned the house, the trees, the garden. For his next experiment, Gruff prepared various nutritious concoctions for me to try to eat or drink from plants grown in Demarcus’ garden. My body rejected these via vomiting. Gruff kept trying.

  Right

  Wayra and I traveled into Sudan to witness the atrocities and report it to the world. If I was hungry, I would kill before returning to Chad. One time I called my family in Virginia from Sudan to let them know that I was safe, but I didn’t tell them my location. “Your Uncle Leviathan has been putting money into an account for you. Here is his phone number. You should call him,” my father said. My mother got on the line, “Boy, I know you are in Sudan. I read your reports. Stop being so mysterious.” That was fine by me, since I lived in Chad. I was happy that they thought I lived elsewhere. Wayra continued to be my companion for reporting and for killing. She would whirl us away if there was the slightest chance of me being caught. She was my companion, but Gruff was her lover.

  Foreword

  Demarcus kept detailed records on the life of his plants, how much water they consumed, and their yield. He sold produce to people that came by the house and had regular customers that resold his harvest.

  He seemed unconcerned that everyone was profiting from his labor. He pointed out that it was his job to keep everyone fed. The one thing he could talk about at great length and with passion was that food scarcity was a myth and that if people were not so determined to make a profit there was enou
gh food for every person on the Earth to have a nutritious diet. Agricultural scientists and farmers came to learn from his techniques. He never spoke about how he had come to position the plants, just that some plants did better in north facing plots or south facing plots, with more or less water, etcetera.

  Demarcus was dating a woman from Chad. She was hesitating about marry him because he was European. I’m not sure if he knew this. I found out because I asked her one day when we were alone in the garden.