“I'm in.”
***
I became hooked you know.
It was easy for me, just like falling off a wagon, and I laughed at myself at the sheer irony of the situation. When I had been human, I was hooked on heroin. And now that I was a vampire, here I was hooked on blood. Turnabout is fair play, and fair play is one hell of a bitch. I wondered if I died and went to Heaven, how long would it be before I found the heavenly equivalent of heroin. Then I thought about it and decided that since Hell would get all of the bad stuff, including the alcohol and the drugs, that was where I wanted to go.
For the first time, I really started to enjoy being a vampire.
Harry didn't start to hate me properly until I started to hang out at the club. Before I was just a minor nuisance, a pimple on the butt of vampirism, nothing to worry about. Now I was as Harry himself managed to put it ever so eloquently, “a pimple with friends."
They weren't real friends either, just people whose names I instantly forgot because I was busy focusing on something else entirely.
There was a certain kind of people who were allowed to enter the club, and then from there they were culled even further, separated from the party-goers. These were the fans and they were allowed into the back VIP rooms, where they thought they were the shit because they got to hang out and mingle with real life vampires. For them, it was the coolest thing ever, and if a little blood was asked of them, then what the hell? They were there to entertain us, to feed our needs and boy did I ever feed.
No one in that room had ever been a vampire pretender, a gamer, a faker or a hater. They worked on that list very carefully, pre-screening everyone who made it past the VIP doors. And no one there knew that there was still one more deeper level of access.
It was a place for vampires only, and only the oldest and richest went there.
I had never even caught a glimpse of the place. I just heard about it and pretty much instantly forgot about it. For the vampires at the club it was like Area-51. Since I was never going to be allowed near the place I figured what the hell, just forget about it.
Don't worry. It doesn't play a large part in this story anyway. It's just one of those things you hear about and never find anything else about. Ever. One of life's mysteries not meant for me to solve.
So I enjoyed it for a while. Every week I would return, and eagerly seek out the VIP rooms where I could have a taste, just enough to get me through, and for a while I would be happy. I would think on the movie vampires and I would laugh to myself as I drank, completely understanding the need for blood now.
“What are you laughing at?” some nameless beauty asked once and I just smiled up at her. She wouldn't understand if I told her. In fact I wasn't too sure myself if I even understood what I was laughing at. I just knew it was funny.
Sometimes one or two of the girls would go home with me.
When I woke up, they'd always be gone, having discovered that they'd somehow picked one of the poorest vampires in the club to fuck their brains out. They weren't too concerned with emotions or the who of who they were fucking. It was that it was one of us that they were fucking that mattered to them.
After a few encounters, the bounty of easy pussy dried up.
So much for enjoying being a vampire. They were just a bunch of pompous assholes with their stupid selfish sluts anyway. I didn't need them, right?
Maybe not, but I did need the blood.
I went rogue.
***
Remember that guy I was telling you about earlier? The guy who you see in the bar who's being a bit of a jerk and yet always seems to leave with one of the hottest chicks in the joint? Yeah... that was me.
Going rogue was actually useful for a bit you know. It calmed me the hell down and reminded me of the basic fact that I was human first, no matter what I was now.
It's funny. Being that guy, playing the role of the hunter out looking for some cutie to suck on for a bit, that was easier than I had ever thought. I'd always been the nice guy, courteous and kind, sweetly funny, but that was just how my mom had raised me, so I didn't have much choice in that. I'd always been the nice guy, the one who only served as a means to grease the wheels for the jerks out there to slide on in. Yeah, I was that poor schmuck and it was one of the things Jaime had liked about me, so of course feeling a little rebellious, I'd thought what amounted to a sacrilege for me:
Fuck Jaime.
And with that lovely mantra, I had begun my time as the bastard Bob.
I went out that first night, sunglasses on and headed to the diviest of the dives, a little place not far from my apartment, that was so shady, it didn't even have a sign. It was just this squat grey building that either you knew was there, or you didn't. If you knew it was there then the rules were simple, go in drink up and avoid any flying bottles. If you were just curious, you'd better keep on walking, because you wouldn't want stitches from that flying glass that nobody bothered to warn you about.
Guns N' Roses blasted from the jukebox and the bartender poured the vodka heavy, so it was definitely my kind of place. I ordered the tequila and took a long careful look around, wondering if maybe I should go to the other bar down the street and prey on the young preppies in their designer clothes and designer attitudes. They'd make such good victims anyway... but I was a little worried about running into any of my old friends who might have heard rumors or even had remembered to be worried about me.
When Jenny came in twenty minutes later, I knew I had found a good victim. She had a full sleeve tattoo on one arm, the most prominent of which was a werewolf. The other arm was only a half sleeve with a snakes' skeleton winding its way up her arm to her neck. She looked like she would make a very good pet, or at least a half decent fuck, and wouldn't mind a little bit of pain with her sex.
I watched her for a moment as some guy sidled over to her and bought her a drink. I shook my head and squared my shoulders and got firmly into character. I had to act like a vampire now, and from what I saw down at the club, they had no shame and absolutely no pity.
The guy was chatting her up when I got over there.
“So Jenny, what do you do for a living?”
I clapped Doofus on the shoulder and he looked up at me, startled.
“Fuck off buddy. You're in my space.”
Doofus actually looked from me to Jenny, as if expecting her to save him. Poor guy just looked so confused. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“Who the--”
I smiled and didn't give him a chance to finish. I turned my back on him and slid between him and Jenny.
“Hey!” Doofus grabbed my shoulder and I swear my fist went up on its own. I just heard a wet smack and the sound of him collapsing behind me. Jenny was giving me her full attention, the 'what the fuck' look on her face saying everything it needed to.
“Maybe he should have listened to you.”
“Oops.” I shrugged. “He'll heal, eventually.”
“Eventually,” she agreed and reached up to take off my sunglasses. Her reaction to my eyes was worth it. She gasped and leaned closer as if expecting to see contact lenses. “Those for real?”
“All the way.”
“You want to waste more time or you wanna get outta here?”
I love loose women.
We went back to her place and as predicted, she was into the wild kinky sex, the more spanking and biting, the better. She had a nipple ring so she really didn't mind pain too much and it seemed to make her orgasm harder. It was by far the best sex I had ever had.
My hunt had begun.
I would wander back to the club on occasion and predictably I would be thrown out. It was on one of those occasions that I ran into the King and we hit it off right away. As long as I stayed close to the King whenever I went to the club, they wouldn't touch me, but eventually he would vanish and I would just surrender myself to the clutches of the ugly twins Ryan and Ryan.
One time, they threw me off the roof.
It'
s a pity that vampires can't fly.
***
“What the fuck are you doing to yourself man? Seriously dude, you look like shit.”
Dr. Mendelssohn splinted the second of my broken legs, and she chose that exact moment to realign the bone, so my smartass comment was ruined by the scream that came out of my mouth instead.
“I'm sorry, did that hurt?” She asked, and I could tell by her bemused expression that hurting was exactly what she had intended.
Both of my legs had been broken in the fall from the roof of the club. The thing is that even with my body regenerating itself, and the fact that my legs would eventually heal, if the bones were not set, I would have some seriously fucked up legs. There is no magical straightening of the bones like in the movies, and everything is healed. You gotta get it into position first and then you can heal properly.
Like all wounds, it hurt like a sonofabitch and strengthened my belief in avoiding as much pain as possible. Life was too short for pain to be a part of it.
Dr. Mendelssohn started with the splint. “Looks like he's been hitting the blood pretty hard.”
“Blood? What do you mean blood?”
“Your friend has been drinking blood, and from the looks of it, quite a lot of it.”
I started to protest and she did something to my leg that made me squirm instead. Claude just looked at me incredulously. He looked like I'd just killed his birthday puppy or something.
“You've been drinking blood? Actual people's blood?”
Dr. Mendelssohn just shot him a look.
“You did know your friend was a vampire, right?”
Claude and I both nodded. She went back to my legs. Claude was still looking betrayed.
“When did this behavior start man? You never told me that you were doing the blood thing. I thought you said you didn't feel any urges or anything.”
“I was going to tell you, but I didn't know exactly how--”
“Mister Diego is what we refer to as a blood junkie.”
That one really sold it to Claude. I just gave up at that point. Dr. Mendelsohn was out to hurt me tonight and she was going to make sure I knew who did the hurting. I winced as she went back to work.
“You can usually tell by the eyes you know. The blood acts like a drug and the effects are very similar to heroin in humans. Mr. Diego here has been ingesting large amounts of blood, much more than normal, so I'd have to assume that at this point, he is completely and totally addicted to it. Soon he'll be a bad horror movie cliché if he's not too careful.”
“Thanks Doc,” I managed to grunt out, but some of the sarcasm was lost.
Claude just stared at me and I shrugged. Really, what could I possibly say? It wasn't that I had been hiding it from him. He just hadn't been around and I'd been busy getting high and trying to make ends meet. Besides he was in the middle of his court case and while it was looking to be in his favor, I really hadn't wanted to bother him.
“I spoke to your mom last week you know. She said she hasn't seen you in months. Is this why?”
“I was busy--”
“Like how you got busy when you were on heroin? Is this like that too Bob?”
“You don't know what it's like man--”
“You're right! I don't. But I thought you'd at least tell me if something was bothering you dude. You don't start with the poor me attitude unless you've actually tried to do something about it, unless you've talked to me and I've told you to go fuck yourself. Since I haven't actually ever done that to you, you have no fucking right to start this shit with me right now.”
Dr. Mendelssohn stood up and clapped her hands. We both looked at her.
“I'm done here. You can take the argument home with you please. I'd rather it not stay here if it is all the same to you.”
“Is there anyway to get him off of this addiction? How do you get a vampire to stop drinking blood?”
“Well since there are no twelve step programs in existence for vampires, I'd suggest a nice solid stake through the heart. Wooden is a favorite.”
“Isn't that a little extreme?”
“Well yes, but you did ask how to stop him.”
***
We fought all the way back to my house.
“I dunno what to say anymore man. I thought you'd gotten a second chance to actually clean yourself up and now you're just hooked on something else. It's kinda disappointing you know.”
“It's blood dude. I'm a vampire. They kind of go together you know, so what did you expect?”
“You're an idiot, I hope you know that.”
“Yeah. Everybody keeps telling me that.”
I exited and hobbled my way into my apartment using my brand new crutches. Claude drove off and I wondered if I would ever see him again.
Keeping my eye on the slowly rising sun, I opened my door, actually glad to be home. It wasn't until I was inside that I sensed that something was wrong. My couch was the wrong shape for one...
My beaten up lamp was clicked on and I froze. Who the fuck?
The very large man on the couch had a gun on his lap. He didn't look too happy to be here in my apartment. To tell you the truth, I wasn't too happy that he was in my apartment either so there definitely was a lack of mirth going around. I wondered if I could possibly make a run for it, but all thoughts of that stopped when I backed up and a pair of meaty paws clamped onto my shoulders.
I looked back and up into the face of one of the biggest men I had ever seen. He was also human, but only barely and something told me that he also had a gun. Since I still hadn't figured out how to dodge bullets, I relaxed.
“Who the hell are you guys?”
“You can call me Vinnie.” This was from the guy on the couch. “Miss Vera sent us to have a chat with you. It seems you’ve not been following up on your arrangement with Harry, so now it’s up to us to collect.”
“You're kidding right?”
“Absolutely not. I've never known Miss Vera to have much of a sense of humor. Me, I've always considered myself to be a man of good humor, but on some occasions such as these when I'm hired to break some kneecaps, well I tend to get real serious.”
“You're going to break my kneecaps? Seriously?”
I gestured, feeling the insane urge to laugh at the whole situation. I was on crutches, both legs broken, and they were here to break my kneecaps.
“Well, do you have that fourteen large that you owe Miss Vera?”
“Wait a minute! I don't owe her fourteen anything-“
“I'll just take that as a no. Walt, take his crutches.”
My crutches vanished, and I gasped from the pain as my weight settled onto my broken bones. I tottered and then did the easy thing and just fell over. It was easier by that point. Walt grinned down at me, my crutches in his hands and I considered biting him on the ankles.
“Looks like somebody got to you first Bob. That's a freaking shame.”
“Well, what can I say? They wouldn't take no for an answer. Decided to see if I could fly.”
“You should have flapped harder.”
“I still need practice.”
“You're not making it very easy for us to do our job you know. This is most inconsiderate of you.”
“Sorry?”
Vinnie stared at me for a long moment and shook his head. “We could come back tomorrow or the day after you know. Or there's always the alternative...”
I was immediately suspicious. I didn't trust the look on his face.
“What's the alternative?”
He gestured at the gun. “You could always take it up with Miss Vera in person...”
Okay, that was the absolute last thing I needed. I still had nightmares about my first death and didn't want to relive any of it, even if I knew what was coming. Vinnie must have seen my panicked look. He just smirked.
“Wouldn't it be easier to drive?” I asked, and he relaxed. “Shooting me just seems so wasteful. Especially from where I’m sitting.” I just wish he'd put th
e gun away. It was making me a lot nervous.
Walt kicked me in the ribs, probably more out of habit than anything else. I looked up at him, annoyed.
He just kicked me again. “I have an idea...”
***
I really, really hate the sun.
***
Claude was waiting for me when I woke up. He was dressed in all black and looked pissed. Naturally I was confused.
“How did you get in here?”
“I'm a professional burglar dude. I've made friends with many, many locks. Get up, we got a long day ahead of us.”
“Why, what's going on?”
“We're about to have an intervention.”
I held up my bandaged hands and winced at pain. I could still smell the burnt bits of me. Claude was surprised, and it showed on his face.
“I already had an intervention. It was very painful.”
“You did that to yourself?”
“Hell no. Walt and Vinnie did it to me. They were disappointed about not being able to break my kneecaps, so we settled on this instead.”
Claude was perplexed. He sat back in his chair and just looked at me. I didn't care. I was exhausted and in pain and just wanted to sleep for a week, and people weren't leaving me alone.
“What?” I asked him. Now I was just irritable.
“Why do people want to break your kneecaps? I feel like I'm missing a huge part of the story here. You're holding out on me dude, and I can't help you if you're holding out.”
I glared at Claude, but even my fiercest look wasn't having much of an effect.
“I didn't say I wanted to be helped.”
“What kind of a friend would I be if I actually listened to you?”
“The kind who lets me sleep! Go away.”
“Not a chance. Tell me about the knee breakers.”
So I told him. I told him everything. I told him about dying and coming back and about the lovely Miss Vera and my funeral. I even told him about my rented friends and then about the bill and Harry's part in it. It was the first time I'd told him about Harry, and he fairly boggled at me. He wanted to know why I'd never told him about Harry.
“Because he scares the shit out of me. If you ever met him, you'd understand. It's not that he's pure evil or anything, it just that he's fucking scary.”
So You Might Be a Vampire Page 15