“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Listen! You need to listen. In about two minutes someone is going to knock on my door, and I'm going to go outside to talk to some people. I expect that they're going to want to take me to have a talk with Harry, about you, and I really don't know what's going to happen after that. So I want you to listen to me and take me extremely seriously. I'm not fucking around here. I'm deadly fucking serious when I say that I am a vampire, and now because you drank my blood, you're going to become one too. It's going to hurt, and you're going to be sick for a while, but as of right now, you're already one of us and you need to know some rules. First, you're going to need some sunglasses--”
There was a knock on the door. A slow, gentle knock. For some reason, Louise looked completely and utterly terrified.
“Louise-”
“I have to go Bob. They're here.”
“Who's here?”
“The Gentlemen. And you do not keep them waiting. “ She tried to smile at me and failed miserably. “Goodbye Bob.”
And then she was gone.
***
The waitress was pretty, and I think she was flirting with me when she brought back our food. Then again, there could have just been something in her eye. I resigned myself to just smiling weakly and staring at the plates of food that she laid out for me and Claude. She poured coffee for both of us, and I sniffed at mine carefully, before shrugging and adding sugar to it. Claude just watched with wry amusement as I went through my coffee ritual which started with the additional three cups of hot water and the empty cup in front of me. Careful dilution was key to drinking coffee these days.
“You know why I like this place so much?” I didn't wait for an answer from Claude. “The coffee is perfect.”
“You're kidding me right? It’s already weak before you do all of that to it.”
“And that's exactly why I like it so much. It's already watered down so less dilution required. Remember the 'Starbucks Experiment'?”
The Starbucks Experiment as I liked to call it, was an unmitigated disaster in vampire history. Okay, maybe it wasn't that huge, but it was a part of my history, so it was kind of a personal thing with me. In any case, it was the one event that solidified my following experiments with coffee in order to get the perfect blend that wouldn't screw with my taste buds too much. What happened was simple really and while it is a little out of order, it's one of the prevailing myths of vampirism that actually has some basis in reality. Just not in the way you think. It's a rule that I like to call:
***
2. STRONG COFFEE IS JUST AS EFFECTIVE ON VAMPIRES AS GARLIC
The first three days I thought that I would have been better off dead.
They were the worst three days of my life at that point and I spent most of the time passed out on the bathroom floor, my pants permanently around my ankles. Vomit had sprayed around the toilet bowl, and I didn't even recall doing that, missing or even getting it in the bowl, but when your entire existence for three days is puking or shitting, then details are a little hazy.
Being on what I thought of as death's doorstep for three days brings things into clarity, but usually after the crisis has passed. Of course the better description would have been on death's toilet, since that's where I spent most of my time. I had either been puking or shitting my guts out, huge stinking and sometimes bloody amounts of whatever was in there and this was from either end mind you. Or I was doing both at the same time. On the first night I had slept on the floor of the toilet, practically wrapped around the toilet bowl, never mind how cold it was. I had been sweaty and clammy, running a fever and in a definite state of delirium. Since Louise had disappeared I hadn't had much time for anything else, much less thought.
At times I wondered if she was simply having me on, but those thoughts never lasted long, and I'd either be puking again or passing into unconsciousness.
My dreams were no better, hazy fever dreams that left me feeling sick to my stomach.
On the second day when I woke up, I was still on the bathroom floor, but someone had covered me with a wool blanket and I had clutched it around me while I slept. As I woke I was aware of someone in the room with me and tried to turn to see them, aware that my pants were still down around my ankles and my ass felt like it was caked with shit. Definitely not at my best.
“Louise?” I tried to say, but the movement was too much.
When I woke up again I was alone.
Oh the third day I dragged my weakened body into the shower, disgusted with myself for the state I was in. It took me almost an hour to get in there and another half hour to get the water on, but I was able to just lay there under the water and begin to feel human again, even if for just a little bit.
It was the longest shower of my life and I made sure to take my time. It's not a good feeling to have shit caked on your ass, and I could partially relate to the disgust incontinent old people probably felt when they looked at a pair of Depends™. Hell at that point I could relate to an infant, who had no choice but to sit in their own shit until somebody cleaned their ass for them. However I had a choice and I cleaned as carefully as I could.
I may have cried at some point. If I did, it's none if your business. And if I did cry, then I didn't know why, but it would have felt good to do so, just letting my despair out. But I didn't cry, and you can stop staring at me now.
Fact: showers have remarkably restorative powers. After a good hot shower you don't feel as shitty anymore, no matter how bad things are. You feel as if you can take on the world. You're clean and restored and you can feel good again.
That feeling only lasts as long as you're actually in the shower. The instant you turn off the water, it comes flooding back. The weakness and the doubt have simply been kept at bay by the water and as soon as you step out, they're waiting for you like old friends ready to start the party again.
When I was able to step out of the shower, still stepping carefully because I was so damn weak, I was more than a little shocked at the state of the bathroom. I won't go into a detailed description, but let us just say I hadn't managed to make it to the toilet every single time. The stink was unbearable, more so than normal and my nose was a little more than a little offended. I would have to get some kind of gas mask when I cleaned up this mess.
I stumbled out of the bathroom and realized for the first time that I was in a motel room. It was the mirror behind the motel standard issue television set that clued me in to the fact. I registered it in the back of my head even as I crept closer to the mirror, not sure of what I was seeing there. When the towel fell from around my waist I didn't even notice. All I could look at was myself in the mirror and remember Louise's words to me and the absolute impossibility of it all.
But most of all , the only thing I could think about was, what the fuck had happened to my eyes?
The eyes looking back at me were not the eyes I had grown up with and looked at in the mirror every single day. Oh no, those beloved eyes had been a dark brown, deep and thoughtful, soulful as my mom used to say. They had never ever looked like this, these freak eyes that now sat in my eye sockets like they belonged there. Damn them, what had they done to my eyes?
The eyes that stared back at me, no matter how much I rubbed at them with my knuckles, trying to un-see what I was seeing, those eyes were a pale blue, almost luminescent in the dim light of the room.
This of course is the point where I freaked the fuck out.
Forget logic, forget pain. Forget sanity, just forget rational thought. Forget who you were or who you might have been. Forget everything, but remember these words because they may be the last words you hear. Forget it all because none of it matters. Forget the story, forget the songs, they were all wrong anyway, all lies planted like a seed of ugliness and fear, to feed the hunger, to feed the growing seed of myth that lies buried deep within. Forget everything you've known because it is a lie. Forget the truth and know that you are the truth. And know that you are
also the lie.
“Louise pick up your fucking phone and talk to me dammit! Tell me what the fuck you did to me!”
I hate voicemail.
In between calling Louise and yelling at her voicemail, I'd stare at myself in the mirror, not wanting to see, not wanting to believe it. None of it. I couldn't be a vampire. This was just some huge fucking elaborate hoax, the onset of rabies or something. Could you get rabies from a human bite? It didn't matter if you could or not, because I had something and it sure as hell wasn't normal.
When someone answered Louise's phone, I tried to calm myself.
“Louise you gotta talk to me. I'm freaking the fuck out here.”
“Louise isn't here. Nobody by that name here.”
“This isn't a wrong number. It's Louise's number.”
There was silence and the sound of somebody fumbling the phone. Somebody mumbled something and there was laughter. I was about to says something when somebody screamed. It sounded just like Louise.
Click, and the phone hung up.
One thing that you can always remember, no matter how bad things may seem, is fear. It is your constant friend, waiting just out of sight, but always there, waiting to come back to be your best friend in the entire world. In fact, if it was your only friend, then that would suit it fine, just fine indeed...
I called back, my hand shaking as I listened to the phone ring. I prayed to a God I didn't believe in that maybe I had gotten the number wrong, but somehow I knew that I hadn't. I knew it deep in my gut, and when the phone was answered again, and all I could hear was Louise screaming--
This time I was the one who hung up.
I may have thrown the phone then, I don't know, but I started moving quickly, looking for my clothes, determined to find my damn pants and get out of there, get over to Louise’s place as quickly as possible, I mean, she had to be there, right? And then what? Then what was I going to do?
I froze at the very thought, common sense kicking in. I stood there, one foot in my pants leg, screw the underwear, this was urgent! I realized that I was no action hero, I was in fact the worst person to be a hero of any sort. What kind of rescue was I going to pull off anyway? My friend was screaming somewhere… and maybe she wasn’t even at her house. The best thing to do would be to call 911 and let them sort it out, right?
Fuck!
I spent the next few minutes trying to find the phone, dialing 911 and then hanging up, trying to amp myself up to be a hero goddammit, just be a hero for once, and then remembering the whole fucked up situation and the goddamn mess of the goddamn trashed hotel room. Action is it’s own inaction and vice versa and man I am so fucked up.
I sat naked on the floor of that motel room, my cell phone on the floor in front of me and I just stared at it, afraid to use it and sure, just so goddamn sure it was about to ring and it would be Louise and this time she wouldn’t be screaming, she would be okay and none of this would be happening because it was all a big fucking joke and there was no way I was a vampire—
I caught sight of my eyes in the mirror and the reality of it washed over me, the full possibility taking hold at the sight of those fucked up blue eyes in my head. I was beginning to really believe it now, or at least the possibility of it. I think that maybe my believing it freaked me out more than anything else.
“I'm sitting naked in the middle of a motel room and I'm losing my mind.”
Claude had thankfully picked up on the second ring. We never ever said hello. We always just got straight to the point of what we had to say, kind of like continuing a conversation that we had interrupted the last time we spoke. No matter what I said, he always had the appropriate response for it.
“Maybe you should put some clothes on dude. Or at least sit on something. Those floors aren't known to be too clean you know.”
He was right. I grabbed my towel from the floor and sat on the bed instead, the towel under my ass for protection.
“What would you say if I told you that I was turning into a vampire?”
“Is this turning, or have turned?”
“I think it's more turned at this point. I dunno for sure.”
“So you might be a vampire,” he said thoughtfully. “Okay, I can dig it. First thing I'd say is to stay indoors. Do not open the windows or go out into the sunlight. If you're a vampire, that will kill you for sure.”
“Okay, I can do that. What time is it anyway?”
“Nine oh five. Where the hell have you been anyway? Your mom's been trying to reach you for three days now. “
“I've been kinda busy turning into a vampire. Takes a lot out of a person.”
“Call your mom and let her know you're okay and then call me back. We'll meet for coffee and you can fill me in on what the hell is going on with you.”
It was another hour before I had pulled myself together well enough to exit the room. My Honda POS was parked downstairs, so that made my life just a little easier, but by that time hunger had hit again and I was scrounging for change in the center console of the car so I could buy a Snickers bar from the candy machine. It occurred to me to wonder exactly how my car had gotten there, but the hunger was way too much, way too distracting for me to think clearly. The last time that I could remember eating was three days ago, so you can excuse me for being a little single-minded at the time.
Right. I managed to find enough loose change for the machine and stumbled out of the door, head throbbing and pounding at me, stomach cursing loudly at me to feed it. The only thing in my sight at the time was that snack machine, teasing me, taunting me with its offerings. So, coins in slot, no don't come back out... okay fine, redeposit coin... and success. Punch code, wait for candy to drop... candy drops and retrieve... now rip open wrapper and eat.
I must tell you this: chocolate had never tasted so good in my entire life. It was an explosion of flavor, so sweet, so good, so perfect. It was everything I needed, and in a few quick bites it was gone.
Feeling the disappointment but also feeling just a little better for having had something to eat, I opened my eyes, ready to get out of there.
There was a teenage girl staring at me, a door open behind her to one of the motel rooms.
“Whoa. Nice eyes.”
I didn't know what to say. I shrugged. “Thanks. I just got them.”
That got me thinking about my situation again and I staggered back, feeling panicked and overwhelmed. But at least I wasn't imagining the change of my eye color, so that had to count for something right?
The teenage girl wasn't impressed. She watched me all the way back my car. She was still watching when I threw up the Snickers bar just outside my car.
When I pulled out of the parking lot, she was still watching.
***
I had a couple of flashes of panic at the thought of Louise alone out there somewhere with those men
(vampires)
who had taken her and dreamed up of scenarios where I wasn’t the coward, and somehow managed to track her down with my new vampire powers… but I had no idea of what they might be. What the hell was a vampire anyway and did anything I’d learned from movies over the years even apply?
I zoned out a little after that last panic attack. All I know is that I had no idea how I got to the diner where Claude had agreed to meet me. And I had no idea how long I just sat there in the car in front of the diner either.
I do know that it was Claude banging on the window of my Honda POS that woke me from my stupor. I wasn't expecting that, but then again in my condition, I don't think I was expecting anything at all.
The panic was threatening to rise again, but I fought it down and got hold of myself long enough to open the door.
“You weren't kidding were you?”
Claude was staring at my eyes, stunned. I shrugged, already uncomfortable with the attention, and looked away.
“Did you bring the sunglasses? The light's giving me a headache.”
I didn't even realize it was true until I opened my
mouth and said it. But there it was, and true every word of it. The lights from the diner, from the street lights, from everywhere, lights that we depend on every night, they were suddenly way too bright and sending piercing spears of pain through my head.
Claude brought out a pair of very expensive looking sunglasses and I took them gratefully. I didn't even wonder where he had stolen them from, just as long as they worked.
“Thanks dude. You're a life saver.”
“Yeah, and you're a vampire. Three words for you: What the fuck?”
“Believe me man: I feel the same way. It's as much a surprise to me as it is to you. Three nights ago, vampires still did not exist, not in my world.”
“At least you had time to get used to the idea. I only had an hour. Now are you going to fill me in on this shit or not?”
“Buy me something to eat first. I haven't eaten in three days and just puked up my snickers bar.”
“Fine, but if you have to puke again, just don't do it at the table.”
We made our way into the diner, which was way too brightly lit in my personal opinion. Everything just seemed so bright, and so harsh... My headache had returned in full force by the time we were seated, and by the way my head throbbed, it was a headache that was promising to stick around for a good while.
“Hey you want some coffee? They serve Starbucks blend here.”
I had already sunk my head onto the table, and motioned for him to bring on the coffee. Coffee sounded like a really good idea at the time. Just the thought of it brought the strong aroma to mind and made me even hungrier.
“I know what I want, so I'll just order now.”
The waitress shrugged and whipped out her notepad. “What'll it be then?”
“Scrambled eggs, lots of bacon, stack of pancakes, coffee. Same thing for my friend over here.” Something occurred to him. “Or did you want a bloody steak instead?”
“You wanna make me puke? Pancakes. Please.”
The waitress left and Claude just stared at me for a bit. Me? I just wanted to lay down and die.
“So tell me everything and try not to skip anything important.”
So You Might Be a Vampire Page 7