The Anti-Vampire Tale

by Lewis Aleman

  Think about what was in that room when I was dropped out of it—know what waits for us up there—a feeling surges up inside me. Can’t go another second without doing it. Might never have another chance to do it.

  “Simon, stop—look at me.”

  He turns his head as far as he can in my direction. Hanging onto his neck two and a half floors above a raging fire, I lean to the side, putting my face an inch in front of his.

  “Simon, I love you.”

  He smiles the sexiest smile and says, “I know you do.”

  Before I can register that his words aren’t what I’m dying to hear, he’s already moving toward the window—faster now. Hold tighter to his neck.

  As our heads peer through the busted window, the conversation reaches our ears.

  “Bit convenient that you’re here tonight, Maxine, don’t you think?”

  “What’re you talkin’ about, Roderick? You know I hate you—ain’t nothing changed. Just nothing else to do tonight.”

  “Really? Here in my house with all this going on—humans running here and there—cars crashing into the front of the building—fires—and a little vampire civil war, and you just happen to be here in the house of someone you hate? Then you come prancing on in here telling everyone a secret you’re not even supposed to know—sending nearly all of my people racing out of here after a fix, and you expect me to believe it’s all a coincidence?”

  Quickly scan over what I can see of the room—does look like most of them have left—running after Edgar to satisfy their revolting addiction. Those that I can see have their backs to us and the window—all facing Maxine.

  Maxine says, “Don’t really care what you believe, ugly. Never have.”

  Roderick walks toward Maxine with his fingers spread out near his sides, ready to swing them at her.

  Maxine holds her ground, bending her knees, and stretching her own hands in front of her.

  Simon holds both of us with one hand on the windowsill and both of his boots pressed against the front of the house. His free hand slides gently up and down my right forearm that is still wrapped around his neck.

  A young-looking vampire with short, brown hair and very long sideburns whom I’ve never seen before follows behind Roderick, also approaching Maxine threateningly—don’t recognize him. Carvelli still holds Ambrosia–can see one of her blue ponytails peeking out past his shoulder. Patchouli girl stands to the side of Carvelli with her tongue pressed to the tip of a fang—staring ravenously at Ambrosia—the only one not watching what’s going on with Maxine.

  Another voice calls out from the opening in the bookcase, “Look at the two brave, male vampires attacking one girl all by herself.”

  It’s Katrianna.

  Roderick stops, surprise freezing his movement, and says, “You’re supposed to be dead. They said they killed you.”

  “I’m supposed to be a lot of things—not many of them are true.”

  Stopping at Maxine’s side, Katrianna continues, “If you want a nasty job done right, Roderick, don’t leave early next time, trusting imbeciles to do it for you. And, who said they killed me—this idiot straining to hold that little girl over there—Carvelli? Please. They killed my helpless little ones, but not me. Or was it his sick, little idiot-twin that bragged about killing me? Where is Quint anyway?”

  Carvelli’s face grows angry, and Ambrosia scrunches her shoulders under the increased pressure from his hand squeezing her.

  Maxine answers, “Quint ran out with the others after Edgar and the new breed.”

  “Ha!” explodes out of Katrianna, “Never know who your friends are, huh, Roderick? And you, too, stupid,” she says pointing a razor-like fingernail at Carvelli.

  “Still four of us to rip you two apart—that’s all we need,” Roderick says cold, flat, and steady.

  Maxine says, “It seems all you’re good for Roderick is a lot of talk, and talking to you has always made me sick anyway.”

  “Me, too,” Simon adds, jumping through the hole in the window, landing his feet forcefully onto the hardwood floor with me still hanging onto his neck.

  Roderick turns around, looking back and forth from Maxi and Katrianna to Simon and me, slowly backing away from being caught directly between them all—moving himself toward Carvelli and patchouli girl, the young vamp with the long sideburns following his lead.

  Staring at Simon, Roderick says, “Well, here’s the boy who’s having a lot of trouble dying tonight—we can take care of that for him soon enough.”

  “Let Ambrosia go, and none of you have to die,” Simon commands.

  “Oh, I think we’re way too far gone for that, Mr. Hero, and I’d say your luck has got to be running out soon,” he pauses looking over all the girls in the room, still backing up slowly, getting closer to Carvelli and his captive, “Let’s see here...Katrianna, Desirée, Ruby, Maxine, and Ambrosia—isn’t anyone named Jane anymore? Only in Uptown New Orleans could those names come together in the same room. Only here could all but one of them be very dead together—very soon.”

  All eyes scan over the room—all of them except for Roderick’s and patchouli-girl/Desirée’s—they both stare at Ambrosia.

  Simon turns his head sideways toward me—still keeping his eyes on the room, and says, “Ruby, stay in the corner once this starts. Try to get away from this window—get over to one of the corners by that torn bookshelf.”

  “Okay.”

  Roderick reaches Carvelli and Ambrosia, grabs her at the shoulder, and says, “I’ll take the girl—let her go.”

  He slides his hand down Ambrosia’s back, grasping her trapped wrists, and takes hold of her from Carvelli.

  Katrianna and Maxine move toward them slowly from the front of the room, and Simon does the same from the rear. Still outnumbered four to three, but they’re the ones making the first move.

  Roderick looks to the young sideburns vamp, Desirée, and Carvelli, and says, “If I have to dirty my hands with this, none of you will ever taste the new breed again.”

  The three henchmen stare at each other, thinking it over, and Roderick adds, “I swear it…never…again.”

  With her head cocked at a harsh angle, Desirée stares at Maxine and says, “Well, if the whore bleeds on me and infects me with some godforsaken disease, I’m gonna expect alotta the stuff from you, Roderick.”

  Desirée looks back at him for his reaction.

  Roderick says, “Don’t worry; there’s plenty of it for all of u—”

  Maxine’s opened hand smacks Desirée’s face so hard the whole room seems to shake, and she falls to the floor, not moving. So fast—didn’t even see Maxi charge her.

  The room becomes a blur—Simon lunges forward, grabbing Carvelli. A blur of yellow is Maxine, gray-black smear is Katrianna—the rest are hard to make out.

  I see a clear path to the front of the room—I move, trying to get in that corner like Simon said.

  Just in front of me—nearly hitting my face—Sideburns crashes into the wall—cracking some bricks in the fireplace. He falls to the floor.

  Two more bodies speed close by me. My hands go up instinctively before I realize it’s Katrianna and Maxine.

  Quickly, I run past them toward the corner.

  Grabbing Maxine tightly by the arm, Katrianna says, “Maxine, find Edgar—save those girls! Go now—before it’s too late!”

  Maxine nods and turns toward the exit.

  Sideburns jumps back to his feet, swinging wildly at Katrianna. While she dodges his punches, she calls after Maxine, “Nice to see you doing something worthwhile, darlin’.”

  Maxine doesn’t look back, but she’s smiling as her blazing fast body whizzes past me, shooting out the hole in the bookshelf with the fear-inducing fluidity of a bat bursting out of a cave.

  Focus hard, and my eyes are able to make out more of the quickened, blurry movements. Sideburns lands a punch on Katrianna—she grabs his arm and slams him to the floor.

  Simon kicks Carvelli solidly in the sto
mach, and he drops to a knee.

  Katrianna catches a punch by Sideburns, and holding onto his fist, she rolls onto her back—pulling him toward her—jamming her feet against his chest and flinging him into the air like a missile.

  She’s accidentally sent him soaring toward Simon, who has his back to them, throwing a punch of his own at Carvelli.

  Sideburns’s boot cracks Simon in the back of his head. Simon falls forward onto Carvelli, who is still on one knee.

  Sideburns hits the floor and rolls with the momentum—popping himself back up on his feet, turning quickly, and attacking Katrianna again.

  With Simon still flopped over him, Carvelli spins around, grabbing Simon around his waist, and quickly stands with my love hoisted on his right shoulder—head out in front.

  Katrianna’s busy fending off an onslaught from Sideburns.

  Roderick flashes his fangs and flings Ambrosia into the far corner of the room—at a diagonal from me. His eyes land on me as he sprints across the room, fangs and nails exposed.

  Smiling, Carvelli charges toward the brick fireplace, aiming Simon’s head to crash directly into it. Close to the bricks, Simon shoves himself off Carvelli’s shoulders, propelling his combatant into the fireplace face first.

  Nearly an arm’s-reach away, Roderick cocks his hand back—ready to slash into me—hideous, sharp nails angled at my face.

  Landing and spinning in one motion, Simon throws a kick into the air, crashing hard into Roderick’s chin. Roderick smashes into the corner of the giant bookshelf, cracking the wood, and then he falls to the ground about a foot in front of me.

  Simon grabs him by his shirt and pants and throws him atop Carvelli in front of the fireplace.

  Moving toward me so smoothly that it looks as if he were sliding, Simon grabs me—both hands firm and tender at my waist. Lowers his eyes closer and closer to mine—reflecting and becoming one.

  His voice rushes through me like a current, “Ruby, I love you.”

  His lips press against mine, pulsing the intense truth of his words into my soul—surging from the energy of his kiss.

  Two steps pound toward us—Simon spins round and charges in a flash—slamming his entire arm across the upper chest and then crashing higher into the neck of Sideburns, who falls to the ground grasping his throat.

  Just as fast, he spins back to me.

  “I love you, Ruby.”

  The words are even more beautiful being said a second time—feels like they’ve grown even stronger.

  “Where were those words a little while ago?”

  “Left it unfinished on purpose—knew I couldn’t die without having said those words to you. And no way on earth I’d let anything happen to you without telling you I love you.”

  Simon glances over his shoulder. Roderick still lies face down in front of the fireplace and stirs on the floor but isn’t up yet—Sideburns coughs and rocks but is still on the ground, Katrianna fights Carvelli near the windows—didn’t even see Carvelli get up. They move so fast.

  I say, “I’m hard of hearing, and we still could die tonight—say it again.”

  “Ruby, I love you.”

  He leans in to kiss me again, but Sideburns struggles to get up—barely getting himself on his knees, and Roderick rolls to his side in front of the fireplace.

  Simon grabs Sideburns by his shirt and lifts him off the ground.

  Sideburns’s punches smack Simon with no force—no effect—no strength left. His head spins in circles, eyes half shut.

  Simon says, “Last chance—get out of here now, young one, or you’re never going to leave this room again.”

  He nods his head.

  With that, Simon spins around and tosses him toward the bookcase—Sideburns staggers right through the opening, not looking back.

  Katrianna kicks Carvelli between his legs—he drops to his knees—she kicks his forehead—his whole body topples to the wooden floor.

  Looking up at her from the planks as he strains to push himself up and back onto his knees, Carvelli says, “Was a shame we had to kill all of your cats.”

  Katrianna’s chin drops to her chest. Eyes close tightly shut.

  Shoving his knees off the ground and into a wobbly standing position, Carvelli says, “Awful shame we had to kill all of them tonight. Would’ve loved to have gone back again and again, having a little fun catching those filthy, furry things and listening to them shriek.”

  Katrianna is a blur speeding toward him—diving at him—soaring through the air—arms outstretched, hands tearing into his stomach, sending the both of them crashing out the window and out of sight. They hit the balcony with a deep thud, followed by a thundering crash. The last bit of the balcony must’ve collapsed, sending them both diving into the flames.

  Pulling my attention away from the window, I see Roderick, standing now, quickly taking an iron poker from the fireplace into his hand.

  Sirens scream in the distance, getting louder and louder.

  Staring Roderick down and taking a slow step toward him, Simon says, “Come on, Roderick—it’s over. Sirens are blaring—heading here now. Enough blood’s been spilled today—give all of this up—you’re beaten.”

  Waving the tip of the iron poker in the air at Simon’s head, Roderick says, “It’s not over.”

  “What’re you going to do with that except waste your time and irritate me?”

  “Oh…it’s not for you,” he says smoothly, looking toward me with a gleam in his eyes.

  Keeping the poker pointed at Simon, he takes a step closer to me.

  “Roderick, I’ll kill you! I swear I’ll kill you if you touch her—slowly.”

  “Just hold it right there, hero boy. Don’t take another step.”

  Simon holds his hands open and beside his shoulders, “Alright, you don’t move either then.”

  Roderick lets his fangs scrape his own bottom lip, “For the moment, maybe. For the moment…look at you, Simon—so terrified I’m going to take away the thing you love most. So ironic, it’s the same exact look Eleni had in her eyes half a century ago, soaked in gasoline, right before I dropped the match that lit the fire that burned her alive.”

  Simon’s chest spasms—rough exhale, and his words come in spurts between pained, choppy breaths, “You lie—I saw them—got there just as it was finished—saw them all leaving—there was a crowd—they thought she was one of us—a vampire—someone saw me leap up to her window late at night—thought she must be one too. You’re a liar—I saw them—know every one of their faces—every last one of their terrible faces.”

  On the floor just past Simon—several feet behind his back, Desirée’s eyelids flip open—revealing hideous blue.

  Roderick says, “Indeed they were there, dear boy. Tied her up—brought the gasoline—brought the matches—not one of them with the guts to light it. I was all too glad to spark their murderous plans into action—to give them the strength to bring their anger to life.”

  Desirée charges at Simon’s back—her teeth and nails are furious triangles bent on tearing into him.

  Roderick turns toward me—in a flash he has the iron poker cocked back like a spear over his head—ready to be thrust through the air and into me—all the way through me—aimed at my chest—pointed and threatening.

  Desirée’s arm swings at the back of Simon’s head. Simon spins toward her, catching her arm at the wrist, grabbing under her elbow with his other hand.

  Roderick’s arm starts to come down toward me.

  Simon arches his back and pulls Desirée’s arm over his head and shoulders—tossing her into the air.

  Roderick’s arm comes down—hand opens—iron spear flies out.

  Throw my hands up in front of my chest.

  Desirée’s body smacks my hands to the side as she smashes into the wall—the iron poker dives into her chest, and she falls to the floor.

  Simon’s on me—hands at my arms, frantically looking me up and down, “Are you alright—did it dig into you?”
/>
  “I’m fine—I’m fine.”

  Ambrosia shrieks.

  Roderick’s kneeling before her—his hands stretched over her lower stomach.

  Simon traverses the room in a burst, crossing his forearms in an X-shape in front of his head—one set of sharp fingernails aimed far to the left, the other to the right. He flings his arms—uncrossing them in an instant—slicing clean through the back of Roderick’s neck.

  A thud hits the floor.

  Roderick’s headless body drops to the hardwood.

  Simon throws his arm around Ambrosia’s shoulders and leads her toward me. I move to meet them.

  Sirens blast louder outside the window.

  “We better move—now,” Simon says.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I say.

  Ambrosia nods her head, patting her stomach, looking shocked that she’s unharmed and whole.

  Simon grabs my hand and leads the way through the hole in the bookshelf.

  A clang echoes through the room—iron poker lies on the floor, followed by the sound of feet scampering. A blur rushes out the window.

  Roderick’s body remains on the floor, but his head is gone—along with Desirée. Into the night and fire.

  Ambrosia’s hand lands flat on my back—trembling, and it stays there as we exit the room and run quickly through the hallway.

  Going down the stairwell behind Simon is a much different experience—looks so different watching the surroundings appear over his broad shoulders with each step he takes ahead of me—like being flown out of a cave in hell on the broad wings of an eagle.

  Getting close to the bottom now—on the last set of stairs. Orange and red burst through the giant hole in the door—blowing the few remnants of the door wide open and shattering the glass completely out of the windows beside it.

  The flames reach into the house like fiery vines—the old, dry wood readily feeding its ravenous tongues. They flicker and reach their way onto the staircase, covering the last few steps at the bottom.

  Simon stops and says, “We’re going over the rail.”

  He grabs me behind my knees and at my back—lifting me into his arms.

  “Ambrosia—jump on my back—arms tight around my neck like you’re trying to choke me.”