When I was fifteen, she stopped trying to kill me and became my very best friend. She said that I'd stopped being such a dork and now that I was growing up, we had to stick together. We were siblings after all. I started locking the door at night after that. When my mom told me not to lock my door, I told her I didn't want anyone walking in on me while I was masturbating. That got mom off my back for a while, but my best buddy older sister, she knew what was up. And she let me know that she knew. Which made it worse.
I resolved always to have a knife handy.
When she ran away after a vicious fight with my mom where she was screaming and yelling and calling Mom all kinds of names, I was glad and felt guilty for feeling that way. But it was true. I was glad she was finally gone, the bitch was gone, hurray, hurray. I didn't understand the big fuss about letting her go. Maybe they thought she'd hurt herself or something. I thought that would be just fine as long as she wasn't trying to hurt me anymore. I even called up Claude and gleefully told him that the bitch was gone. Since she had also started to terrify him simply because he was there, Claude fully agreed that that was a good thing indeed. Was I going to throw a party? I was the one who heard the front door, and I ran to see who it was, hoping like hell that it wasn't my sister. Luck wasn't going my way that night. I'd held the door shut, with her pushing on the other side, telling her to go away, please just go away.
It wasn't until she slipped a butcher's knife through the crack in the door and put it to my wrist that I had to let go.
“Your choices are either to let go of this fucking door, right fucking now or I'm going to cut your arm open, wrist to elbow and FUCK YOU UP, YOU HEAR ME?”
I let go of the door.
This was the bitch that had terrified me my entire life, and I couldn't wait to erase her from it, which I had gleefully done. She was carefully edited out of my stories, redacted to being this crazy bitch that I had once known, and that was just how I liked it, and now... here she was again.
Mom had just smiled at me when I'd asked her who had invited my sister, and I could see how much it hurt her to have us torn apart like this, so I eased up. I didn't bother to ask her if she remembered who it was that had put a knife through her shoulder seven years ago and had almost killed her. That would have just been petty.
“Do you think he knows about coffee?” Claude asked, never taking his eyes away from Daemien.
“Probably not. He probably sleeps in a coffin and doesn't drink anything but blood. Dude looks like a horror movie reject.”
“Yeah. I don't think I've ever seen that much leather outside of an S&M shop. The Marilyn Manson school of dress.”
“I think you should do it.”
“Remind me again why we're trying to fuck up another vampire instead of your sister?”
“Look at them Claude. Look at her. I have never in my life seen her happy, and now she's as giddy as a schoolgirl. My sister does not get giddy, and she probably eats schoolgirls for breakfast. She's in love with this guy, nuts about him. If something happens to him, it will fuck her up good.”
“So to fuck with her, we fuck with him.”
“Right.”
“This sounds just like a plot out of a bad comedy movie. And not more than a little petty.”
“That's what makes it so perfect. We'll be able to laugh about it later. Eventually.”
“I still like the idea of Tabasco sauce in the condom, but that's just me.”
“Tactically impossible. Too much could go wrong. We have to take the full frontal approach. They'll never see it coming.”
“How about a full sidal approach instead? I'm good at sidal approaches. No one ever sees me coming or leaving.”
“I gotta ask you about your business at some point.”
“This is the cue for me to get my ass over there and commence Operation Fuck Up the Vampire.”
I watched Claude go over to Daemien and my sister, pausing only to grab three cups of coffee, which he offered to them. He was getting into a bit of small talk when my uncle came over to me and clapped me on the shoulder, all buddy-buddy.
“Hey Bobby--”
“Bob,” I corrected him, but he ignored me.
“How's it going down there in the big city? You still working at that porn shop?”
“No Uncle Charlie. I'm a big face in Gangsta Rap right now. Just last week I had to pop a cap in a dude that owed me some money.” I was trying to see past Uncle Charlie, but he kept getting in my way.
“Really?” he said and I could have shot myself. Uncle Charlie had possibly never heard of sarcasm, especially not towards him. After all, he was a big man here in town, a real inspiration to the young and considered himself to get along with everyone.
I've never met anyone, starting with Uncle Charlie, who considered themselves to get along with everyone, and who wasn't simultaneously, an utter and complete asshole.
“Yeah. Haven't you seen my music videos? I'm all over MTV now. Yo.”
This was a partial lie. True I was on MTV, but that was only because the King's new video was out, and I happened to be in one scene, sitting on the couch and looking stoned. I hadn't even known they were shooting a video until I saw it on MTV. Sammy had, of course, seen it and had made fun of me for a week, but I think she was just jealous.
“I'm going to grab a beer Uncle Charlie. Good to see you again.”
I abandoned him and went to examine the cake to see if there were any pieces left over for the birthday boy. Claude caught up to me as I was shoveling a slice into my mouth.
“Did he pour it into the plant?”
I was watching Daemien now and yes, he was pouring the coffee into my mom's potted ficus or whatever the hell it was. What an asshole. I hated my sister and now I hated this guy on principle, but I also hated him for not taking the bait.
My sister got up now, planting a solid kiss on Daemien's lips that may have involved a little tongue, and then she was gone off to the bathroom or whatever. I made up my mind.
“I'm going to go talk to him.”
“What are you going to say?”
“I'll figure that out when I get there.”
I took my cake with me and sat down next to an irritated looking Daemien.
“My girlfriend is sitting there man.”
“Now I'm sitting here. I came to talk to you dude, so play nice or I'm going to go the kitchen and see how much garlic I can find.”
Daemien looked caught off guard.
“What are you talking about?”
“I can smell the blood on you,” I said and inhaled, and you know what? I could smell blood on him. It wasn't fresh by any means and didn't smell like it had ever been fresh. I gave him another look, more careful this time. “What the hell have you been eating man?”
“Your sister told me how much of a pussy you are. She said you were nothing but a whiny little punk, so why don't you fuck off?”
Something smelled wrong about this dude. Like something rotten.
“You sleep in a coffin, don't you.”
From the look in his eye, I could tell that I'd hit it right on target.
“Dude, it doesn't have to be like that. You do not have to sleep in a coffin, seriously.”
“Fuck off or I swear--”
“Shut up.”
He reached for me fast, and I knocked his hand away. I was on my feet in an instant, and so was he, ready to fight, ready to take me down. I was ready for him though, ready to kill him. Something was wrong with this dude, seriously wrong, and I was surprised that he was even passing for human. How did my sister stand to be near him? My god, the smell of him was of rotting corpses like he was sleeping with them. Like he was eating them...
This is where the legend of the monster is born. Here in the isolation of the countryside, not that far removed from what we refer to as civilization. No monsters are allowed to breed in the cities. No, they have to happen by themselves where no one can see, no witnesses on a night darker than most. In the darkness is whe
re the madness lies, where men forget that they were once men. They forget to be human and take on another name, new behavior, even a new face. I saw the monster in Daemien now, knew what he was doing, what he was, and I wanted him out of my mother's house. I needed him gone so I knew that my family was safe that they wouldn't end up as another casualty to a monster walking in human skin.
His teeth were too pointed, way too pointed. He had filed his incisors to points.
“Bobby, what's wrong? What's going on?”
Mom stood in the kitchen door, a worried look on her face. Claude went to her, keeping his eyes on Daemien all the while. It looked like he had a plan, and that was a good thing, I only wish that I knew what it was.
“Stay back Mom. Me and Daemien here are just having a friendly chat. We're talking about politics and you know how that can get people riled up.”
Daemien sneered at me and made as if to turn away, and I was relieved for a split second. But then he was coming at me, coming fast. So I did the only thing I could. I elbowed him in the face before I even knew what I was doing, and stepped back, my hand whipping out of my pocket--
Daemien looked surprised and scornful. “Pepper spray?”
“You should have had the coffee instead,” I said, and that sealed it in my mind. I knew what I was doing, and I was damned for it. I even had the one-liner, the time to think to give the one-liner, so I knew exactly what I was doing.
I let the bastard have it. I sprayed him full in the face and in the mouth.
***
“Son, did you know anything about that fella you done gone killed?”
“Not a thing. He was just this asshole my sister was dating. We didn't hit it off too well as you can guess.”
The officer nodded and shrugged. It was pretty much an easy case.
“So there was absolutely no way that you could have known that pepper spray would have had this effect on him.”
“Have you ever seen pepper spray do that to anyone before? I know I haven't, and I've seen some weird shit where I live.”
“Yeah, that is a first all right. Ain't never seen the like of it, and it'll be too soon if I ever see it again.”
He was absolutely right. Daemien's twisted and contorted expression of extreme surprise and pain was still burned into my retina, and the knowledge that I had pulled the trigger and purposely killed a man, vampire freak or not, was still hammering on the insides of my skull and conscience. It was enough to make me want to puke, the very thought of it, regardless of what I had thought at the time, that he was a monster and he needed to be put down... those thoughts were immediately followed by the one that questioned what gave me the right to be his executioner? Questions of morality never seemed to bother any heroes that you read about or watch in the movies, and now that along with everything else, and Daemien's swollen silently screaming face, of course, was my sole thought. My heroes are apparently all psychopaths who could kill, give a one-liner and walk away without any guilt.
I, of course, thought of all the people that Daemien had probably killed, and that would give me some moments of peace, but then reality would some striding back in, that old bitch, and take up residence on the couch of my mind and conscience. I was no Bruce Willis action hero, or a Batman. I was just Bob the vampire, and I wasn't even very good at that.
I watched them load Daemien's body into the back of the meat-wagon and considered my fate. I suppose I could have run, but the last thing I wanted was for my mom to watch me shot down in a hail of bullets from the deputies on the scene.
It was bad enough that I had killed a man in her house.
I had killed a vampire.
I had killed a man.
“So what now?”
***
Claude drove behind the police car while they took me to jail. I was beginning to freak out a little bit in the backseat, and was considering making a run for it the first chance I got. After all, there was no chance that I was on my way to some nice dark jail without windows. When they tried to take me to court in the morning, they'd be in for a surprise, and I'd just be in a world of pain. One more reason for me to not ever get arrested.
The coroner's van drove in front of the police car, so we had a nice little parade going on.
“Sorry, about this,” the cop was saying. I hoped that I wouldn't have to kill anyone else when I made my escape. It would screw up my day, and the officers' day even more, if that happened.
For a while, I wondered if Harry would get me a lawyer and get me out of this mess, but then I gave up on that wild hope. That's what they call daydreaming. Harry had been very clear on the penalty for killing another vampire, and I was the last person he was going to bend the rules for.
My sister had freaked out me when she realized that I'd just killed her extremely smelly lover and had attacked me, nails clawed to scratch my eyes out. I had seriously hurt her on a deep emotional level, and I had seen it then in her eyes... and it was a good feeling, righteous even... but why then did I feel like such a total shit?
I knew what I had done was murder. It didn't matter if Daemien was going to come back in a few hours or not-
“OH, HOLY FUCKING SHIT!”
The car braked suddenly, and I flew forward onto the metal grating, wondering what the fuck was going on. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the officer jump out of the car, one hand going for his gun.
“Stop right there mister! Do NOT move!”
Gunshots echoed through the night, one, two, threefourfivesix and I finally managed to look out of the window to see the officer walking towards a body lying on the ground. The back of the coroner's van was busted open, and I knew exactly what had happened. I looked at the busted door and was glad that I hadn't gone one on one with Daemien. That would have ended badly for me, seeing how strong that sonofabitch had been.
Had been was the correct terminology for it too.
Half of Daemien's brains were spread out across the road, and I had a feeling that something like that was going to be hard to come back from, if not impossible. Especially when the coroner got through with him and the autopsy. That would be when Daemien's organs took a side trip and somehow I don't think you can grow back a heart or even a spleen. Humpty-Dumpty was broken and was going to stay broken.
For the first time since the incident, I began to smile and then laugh.
I could hear the officer saying something. It sounded like: “He was supposed to be dead... he was supposed to have been dead...”
I laughed my guts out, mainly out of relief, and glad for the first time for Miss Vera's services.
I was glad to be alive and glad that Daemien was dead, finally and completely dead. My guilt was lifted, because I hadn't killed him, and now I wasn't going to have to break out of jail. All because of one stupid vampire who didn't get that there was more to life than killing, and drinking and blood.
Claude knocked on my window, and I grinned at him, still laughing. He just shook his head and waited outside the car for me.
***
They had to let me go. Had no other choice. They didn’t want to talk about it and sure as hell didn’t want me to say anything about it, so they let me go. I drove part of the way home until the sun began to come up, and since we were heading east for a while there, it felt like we were rushing towards a brand new day.
It felt exactly like we were chasing the sun.
***
I visited Julio in jail you know. When we got back, I made a trip that same night before work. He was shocked as hell to see me of all people. After all, he was looking at a ghost, at least as far as he was concerned. He sat down, scared shitless, and crossed himself.
“Yo, I'm sorry I killed you man. That was fucked up of me.”
“It's okay. I got better.”
“Right.”
Julio crossed himself again.
“I just came here to say thank you.”
“For what cabron? I fucking killed you dead. I'm serving fifteen because of it now.”
He looked at me and shook his head. “This is some fucked up dream, yo.”
“You set me free Julio. I want you to know that. Thanks.”
I stood up to go, and Julio watched me, bemused. “I really am sorry for killing you ya know.”
“I know Julio.”
I walked away and left him there with his nightmares. I had my own to deal with, and it wasn't going to be pretty.
-An Interlude-
BREAKING THE VAMPIRE (HABIT)
There's a drought at the fountain of youth,
and now I'm dehydrating.
My tongue is swelling up, I say shit!
-Green Day – Hitchin’ A Ride
- An Interlude -
Breaking the vampire (habit)
So, Santa Claude, a Vampire and a Priest are in a bar... True story, I swear.
Claude was playing Santa Claus for some bizarre reason that I still had to figure out, one of his little flights of fancy, and I had taken to calling him Santa Claude, which served to irritate him to no end. It suited me just fine since he had taken it into his head to be my personal 12-Step program, and help me not be addicted to the red stuff. By the red stuff, of course, I'm referring to blood.
We'd had to start calling it by its code name after we'd had a huge blow out in a bar one night. I had been screaming at him, and he was screaming at me and then out it came, the mention of blood, and we got that feeling that everyone had stopped what they were doing and were looking at us differently. This, of course, had been absolutely true, since they were looking at us differently, like we were a pair of maniacs. So we'd had to calm the hell down, buy some more drinks and exit as quickly as possible before somebody called the cops on us.
I'm wandering a bit, but that's okay because it's my story and as you know by now, I'll tell it the way I need to, just to keep you filled in. You may have to nudge me in the right direction from time to time, but what the hell right? Now... where was I?
Ah yes: Santa Claude, a vampire and a Priest are in a bar.
We were in a little Irish Pub and we were all on our way to getting drunk, except for me of course, since I metabolized alcohol too fast and just pissed it out twenty minutes later, but I was making one hell of an effort to get drunk, and was enjoying the company. You really get to know people best when you drink together you know. That's why drinking is so important in a culture. I don't mean the little cocktail parties where everybody is pretending to be oh-so-important. That doesn't count. I mean a real down and dirty drinking session where you're drinking each other under the table and just doing it for the hell of it. That's when you get to know each other and develop friendships that last a lifetime. All the bullshit stops and only brutal honesty is available for the taking.
So You Might Be a Vampire Page 17