Vampires Don't Cry: A Mother's Curse

by Hall, Ian

  He, on the other hand, undoubtedly felt differently; to him I lay subservient, his creature, his plaything. It seemed the way of the world.

  By the time we embarked from his dreary cabin I’d learned to embrace the passions and hungers every other man in my life had sought to squash from me.

  Under Amos’s tutelage, for the first time in my life I knew what I had been since the moment of my birth: a vampire, a monster of bloodlust, driven by cravings no normal person could understand.

  For many people, this knowledge would have driven them wild. For me, I embraced a calmness that settled my childhood, dimmed my infancy, and explained my adolescence. It came as an admonition and an acceptance of innocence. I could have not lived different if I’d tried any harder.

  But a tiger cannot suckle at a pig’s teat forever; one day the realization would come that it was indeed a tiger, and the mother’s breast ceases to be milk, but becomes meat. I lived for that day.

  Looking back, I recognize that Amos treated me badly, but the relationship was not totally one-sided. Yes, his appetite for sex seemed incredible, and he would ‘rape’ me for hours each night, or at least I let him think so. In truth I secretly enjoyed our joining’s, wallowing at last as I had been born to do.

  But he also taught me the ways of the vampire. He taught me to hunt, and my prey were no longer animals penned in fields, but people of my choosing, lithe healthy men, who rushed headlong into my arms to meet their destruction. Amos lurked in the shadows as the men coursed into my body, waiting for the moment of their release, then joined us on the bed where we feasted together.

  Amos taught me vampire speed, and I immediately took to flight once or twice each week, running the moon washed countryside, feeling a great strength infest my body, and reveling in the freedom.

  Once, Amos picked the prey; a nubile girl, no older than me, and for the first time, I seduced one of my own sex, learning as we caroused the taboo structure of Sapphic love. Amos watched us far longer than before. When he decided to join us on the bed, I looked on, detached from the fray, struck with awe as he tore into her willing flesh, driving his manhood for hours. We ended her together, feasting from both sides of her neck as she slipped into darkness.

  Amos told me his story, how he had been turned in Europe, and fought his way across to America, despite being hunted both on shore and aboard ship. For years he had planned an assault on the nearby town, and now, it seemed, with me as a Lorelei, he had the means to begin to create his empire. I would indeed be the mermaid, and Amos and I would dash the unwitting heads upon the rocks.

  But the world of the vampire is full of fear and balance, and it seems we exceeded the latter, and after only a few of the locals were taken, we were chased from our humble cabin.

  We moved west to the town of Albany, and took up residence in a fairly decent apartment. I stole from the pockets of the rich, and in the larger town, we passed many years in complete anonymity, never becoming too prominent, never too much in the limelight, and certainly never getting caught out like before.

  We culled humans from the surrounding countryside, and like the cleverest of dogs learning from previous mistakes, never shit on our own doorstep.

  In Albany, I became aware that I held a particular charm with the young men in the town. After a while, suitors would come calling on me, ignoring the presence of the older Amos; this proved to be a grave mistake on their part.

  It set up our routine for many decades. Every ten years or so, we moved our place of residence, once into Boston proper, and then into the growing conurbation of New York. And each time we moved, we took our riches with us, not the temporary wealth of paper, but of gold coins.

  In the nineteen thirties, living outside Philadelphia, my mentor again began to manifest his growing vision of empire. Until that time, he seemed quite happy with my lone companionship, but slowly he had grown dissatisfied with riches alone. He began to dream of power, and that meant instead of culling for food, we began to turn humans into vampires. I first heard the term ‘Philadelphia Crusade’ at that time, spoken by Amos like some declaration of war. It meant nothing to me then, but little did I know that I already played a tiny part of it.

  Like some modern day, dark messiah Amos Blanche grew his following one convert at a time. His message seemed clear: hatred for all mortals. His method of inclusion remained unchanging: brutal, vicious force coupled with agonizing sex. Much of the time I noted nothing in the way of foresight or insight in his numerous acquisitions. Though he touted his own intellectual prowess, I felt seldom impressed or inspired by what appeared a random cross-section of American youth.

  This was a time of hardship for my adopted country. As the glistening new world plunged into an era of adversity and hopelessness, Amos’ resources accumulated. Unaccustomed to the trappings of wealth, he wore his lavish lifestyle like a pin on his lapel, shining it in the eyes of the hungry and desperate. Association with Amos Blanche meant escape from the dismal world collapsing around them. There were many takers, but every one that joined became tainted by the darker side of the vampire existence, and a total disregard for the sanctity of human life.

  Like Amos himself, I too got fat off the impoverished. Although I looked no older than twenty, I strutted through the new regime like a whorehouse madam, content in my position as the ‘old lady’ of the company. But as the Blanche troops slowly amassed and new ranks got assigned, it came as no shock that the more valuable positions were entrusted to the males of his brigade. Men ran the world outside, and Amos needed a male army to continue his advancement. As each new addition rose in the ranks, they tested me in turn, but none could master my will. Few came even close to matching me. Amos turned the boys into men and I slapped them back to boys again.

  As the thirties passed, Amos and his followers came to respect me as the force of nature I was born to be. For many of the early years I had endured his attention to my body. At last he realized the power of my fist.

  Vacation in the Sun

  Theresa Scholes, October 1958, Miami, Florida

  Having a vacation on your own is no fun, but when you have the ability to coerce good looking guys to jump into bed with you, it’s certainly a step in the right direction. Day six had just begun, and I had not tired of the Florida experience. Lying by the hotel pool, perusing the locals for my next conquest, a shadow blocked out the sun and I caught the unmistakable musky whiff of vampire. I primed myself for flight.

  “It’s okay, kiddo. There’s no need to run. What’s up?”

  He was older than my usual tastes, but he certainly wasn’t hard on the eyes. He had a large bushy moustache and thick slightly greying eyebrows. The peppered look suited him. In a white polo shirt, green cravat, and well ironed slacks, he looked very dapper, very expensive.

  “I’m just enjoying the sun.”

  He gave me a smile that showed he didn’t believe me. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

  “No, I’m from up north. What’s it to you?”

  He sat down on the sunbed next to me, picked up my Mai-tai, sniffed its contents, then snapped his fingers loudly above his head. “We don’t exactly get too many vampire tourists.”

  I lay on my side, facing him, conscious that my bathing suit wasn’t leaving much to the imagination. “I’m not exactly on holiday. More in hiding.”

  “We heard there had been a big crack-down.” He extended his hand. “My name’s Gheorghe Kovács, but my friends call me Georgie.”

  “Theresa Scholes.” I shook his hand and again checked out his looks. “So are you the boss around here? Or you a foot-soldier?”

  “Oh, I’m the boss. You’ve been under our supervision for a couple of days.”

  I thought of my indiscretions, and instantly regretted every one of them. “I’ve been watched?”

  “Oh, you’ve been pretty careful, and we appreciate that.”

  “Thanks.” I’m sure I reddened a little.

  “We’ve had a few Pustiu over t
he years.”

  I balked at the term. “Pusti?”

  “Pustiu; it’s an expression from the old country.” He shook his head at my bemused expression. “Doesn’t Amos tell you guys anything?”

  “I don’t even know what the ‘old country’ is.”

  Georgie grinned, whilst shaking his head. “The history of our race is about as important as anything. It’s what keeps the family together. Amos has always had a mind to empire-build; it’ll be his undoing someday. Down here in Miami, we’re quite happy living in quiet harmony with the local mortals.”

  The waiter arrived with more drinks. “Here’s to the Old Country, Romania, the land of our birth, the spiritual home of the vampire.”

  “Romania.” I wanted Georgie to talk for hours. I was getting more in one sitting than I’d ever gotten from Amos or Valérie. “And Pustiu?”

  “Literally ‘lonely’, it means a vampire on his or her own. Usually they’ve committed a crime against the leadership; the offending member is banished from the family. In Latin it’s Lupul Singuratica, very literally a ‘Lone Wolf’.”

  “I didn’t even know there was such a thing. I’ve had some teaching from Valérie, but it seems Amos just uses us for sport.”

  “Valérie’s Amos’s number two, right?”

  “Sort of,”

  “Was it Valérie that turned you?”

  “No, the vampire that turned me was beheaded. He’d committed some crime against Amos.”

  “So you’re not beholden, then?”

  “No.”

  “So no ties; no pressure to return.” Georgie nodded his head. “It all makes sense now. We wondered if you were down here on a spying mission.”

  I just about sprayed cocktail all over him. He patted my back as I choked. “I’m simply keeping out of the way, just like Valérie told me.”

  “Do you still eat human food?”

  I frowned at his question. “Oh, yes.” I nodded. “I could never quite give that up.”

  He reached into his jacket pocket and gave me a card.

  Tara Veche. Romanian Fine Dining

  “It means Old Country. Dine with me tonight, Theresa. Do you have a gown?”

  I shook my head as he looked me up and down. “Sorry, I had to pack in a hurry.”

  “I’ll have one sent over this afternoon. A car will be here at seven to pick you up.”

  Georgie certainly knew how to move.

  “Is there time to make a reservation?” I asked, thinking the restaurant sounded expensive.

  “No need when I own the restaurant.”

  Wonderful. Amos Blanche owns a dingy building that he uses as a torture chamber, Gheorghe Kovács owns a swank Romanian restaurant; so no difference there.

  ~ ~ ~

  The black dress looked gorgeous, kinda low neckline, but very stylish, and I’m sure it had been quite expensive. I couldn’t determine the actual fabric, but it certainly wasn’t an off-the-rack Macy’s number. I twirled in front of the mirror, watching the knee length hem spin out in a wide circle.

  At Tara Veche, Georgie sat at the table in the corner in a blue haze of cigarette smoke. I thanked him for the dress as soon as I sat down, and I looked around the busy restaurant.

  The drinks arrived immediately; stronger versions of the ones by the pool. “What have you heard about New York?” I asked, accepting a cigarette from his golden case.

  “Ha, it seems old Amos never learns a lesson. It’s not the first time he’s tried to wrestle control of an area by force, and he should know by now, it just can’t work. Especially in these modern times; the law enforcement is far too organized for such a play.”

  “So what actually happened?”

  “His usual problem; too big, too quick. If you try to rule by force, you get hit by a bigger force. No matter what we do, we are always vulnerable to the inability to control vampires on the hunt. The first lesson of vampirism is control, not control of your flock, but each member’s control of their individual urges. Once your flock is working efficiently, you can grow. But grow gradually, not explode like Amos tries to do.”

  “People like us, Theresa, vampires, have many excellent virtues, most of which you probably already know; I would not do without my increased speed or strength. But we also have fatal flaws; personality traits that keep the whole race in check. The more vampires there are in a group, the higher the chance of self-destruction. We don’t play well with others, I’m afraid. Amos has never seen that, and every few years, he tries again. His latest effort…”

  “He called it the ‘Philadelphia Crusade’.” I offered. “I heard him mention it more than once.”

  “Well, his precious crusade lasted just five months. He tried to take out the mafia heads all in one go. Foolish; those guys have as much power as you’d find in a small country; they don’t take lightly to being muscled by a Romanian goat herder.”

  It took all my strength not to laugh there. Amos precious Blanche was a goat herder? That would change my outlook the next time we met.

  “In any case, you’re well out of the way, being down here.”

  He toasted my vacation, “Have you given a thought of what you’ll be doing afterwards?”

  It sounded a little bit like a recruitment drive, so I thought I’d play it cagey. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you’re not beholden, if you’ve got no ties up north, you could join us here.” He stabbed his fork at me. “You could even go Pustiu, lone wolf.”

  I shook my head, thinking of Amos’s hold over my parents. “The boss wouldn’t like that.”

  “Ah.” Georgie nodded. “He has a hold on you. Well, if you ever change your mind, look me up here. I’ll get you settled somewhere nice, or even situate you with a host family. We can do that too.”

  “Host?”

  “Pustiu live a dangerous existence, just one mistake away from discovery, one wrong move from destruction. They’ve no built-in fail-safe, and no support system. Although it suits some people, for most it’s a fragile existence. Because of the precarious balance between killing for food and being caught by the authorities, some vampires have settled to an almost normal partnership, as the perfect situation.

  “Usually one older male and one female, they live together, and to all outside views, they are a couple. Internally, however, they nourish each other, feeding together, satisfying most of the usual vampire urges and keeping each other in check. It’s a perfect disguise in today’s modern world.”

  “Sometimes they can even stretch to a nuclear family; two slightly older vampires become the parents, and a younger vampire lives with them, and is considered by the world as the offspring. The disguise needs to be done well, the vampires exist in the normal world under the noses of regular people. There are, of course, two fatal weaknesses in the system. The vampires never age, so they have to move every few years, because the kid can’t be seen not to grow old, and heaven forbid if one of the family stray from the fold or is accidentally killed. Basically anything that brings the family into the public eye requires the family to up-sticks and re-settle.”

  The whole idea seemed so far away from the organization of Amos’s vampires. “It’s a nomadic lifestyle. With kids it’s never going to last more than ten years.” I said.

  “But at least we live. It’s better than the alternative.”

  I began to see the world that Georgie lived in. His vampires lived under the radar, away from the attention of the authorities, an existence within humanity. Amos’s vampires lived despite the radar, in full view of the authorities, an existence butting head-to-head with humanity. If I were to believe Georgie’s words, it was always going to be a fight Amos would lose.

  “If I don’t go back, Amos will kill my parents for sure.”

  Georgie laughed. “Give us the address. I’ll have them out of Amos’s grasp within the day. Seriously. We’ve done this kind of thing before.”

  I sat in silence for a moment. I needed to get away from Amos. I knew, sitting in
this restaurant, I had one chance to get out, and only one. “Do it, Georgie.” I threw my hands up into my face. For just a second I was scared utterly shitless. Then I gathered my wits and left it in Georgie’s hands.

  I drank the rest of my wine in one gulp, swallowing it down. “More please, if you don't mind.”

  Georgie just smiled, click this fingers and a waiter appeared. Once he had poured, I drank it all again. “How long till I see them?” I asked.

  “It'll take a few days,” Georgie smiled, “a week on the outside.”

  I expected the evening to end with sex, in fact by the time I’d finished my last drink I actually wanted it, but Georgie had a taxi take me back to my hotel unmolested. I felt slightly disappointed; Georgie was a charming older man. The relaxed feel of the new regime would take a while to get used to.

  I found a note slid under my door the next morning.

  Theresa. Parents are safely on their way to Miami. Gheorghie.

  They just did things differently, these new, intriguing vampires.

  With no word from Georgie the next day, I resumed my vacation content that my parents were out of danger, and would join me soon. I soon realized that I had not relaxed since that day in Amos’s office.

  Georgie called on me later that week. We sat in the back of his car as a younger man drove. “We’re off to meet your parents, and see their new home.”

  “Oh my,”

  “They’ve been told they’re under the U.S. Marshall’s Service now; witness protection, we’ve done this before. The story is; you’ve witnessed a crime, a murder, and the family is under a new name until the trial. The Marshall Service will find your father a new job. Everything will be fine.”

  I’d never heard of such a thing, but it did sound terribly feasible. “What do I say when they ask me about it?”

  “That’s easy; you can’t mention details of the case, it’s the law.”

  “Very clever, Georgie,”

  Within moments, the car stopped outside a small bungalow, nothing grand, but not too shabby either.