Scary Dead Things - 02

by Rick Gualtieri

  “What the fuck!?” he screamed at me once I’d pried her off.

  “Um...Ed, meet Gan.”

  * * *

  “Dude, put the gun away,” I said to my roommate as I stood in the doorway to his bedroom. He was sitting at his desk, loading shells into the twelve-gauge shotgun he kept not-so-hidden under his bed.

  “So Rainbow fucking Brite out there can try to take another chunk out of me? I think not.”

  “I have it under control.”

  “Oh yeah, real good control you got there,” he said, loading another shell. “A second later, and she would have been using my head as a soccer ball.”

  “Don't you think you're overreacting?” I said in as soothing a tone a possible, which wasn't very.

  *click* another shell got loaded. “My apartment is now Satan's daycare. No, I don't see much overreacting here.”

  OK, time to change tactics. “So says the guy who, just the other day, was putting the moves on a floozy with both a serious case of overbite and an overall lack of respect for human life.”

  “That's different,” he protested.

  “How?” I asked.

  “Have you ever looked at Sally's tits?”

  “Many times.”

  “Need I explain further?”

  “No, I guess you don't.” Damn, I hate sound logic. “Still, chill with the gun. You're liable to make Gan nervous.”

  “Bill,” he replied in that tone he often used when he wished to make me feel as stupid as humanly possible, “she's the bride of Frankenstein wrapped in a pre-teen body. Her first act upon meeting me was to try to turn me into a Slurpee. Believe me when I say I'm not too worried about making her nervous.”

  “Point taken,” I said. “But you have to...”

  “Oh thank you, Freewill!” came Gan's cry from elsewhere in the apartment.

  “Huh?” I started to say, when her voice carried to us again.

  “Such marvelous toys. I shall enjoy them thoroughly!”

  Ed and I both stopped what we were doing. “What the hell is Strawberry Nutcake rambling about?” he asked.

  “No idea. I don't have any toys...”

  Ed's and my eyes suddenly locked. A look of mutual terror crossed between us. Tom's room. Oh fuck! We both bolted in that direction.

  My other roommate, Tom, was a life-long obsessive collector of old toys, baseball cards, and the like. He was convinced that one day he'd be able to retire on their collective worth. He had a ton of worthless crap, so my assumption had always been that he’d be more likely to wind up on some docudrama about insane hoarders. Then again, he also had some legitimate collector's items. Back around when I was first turned into a vampire, he’d scored a first generation Optimus Prime figure for next to nothing at a flea market. He’d been so enamored of it that he’d inadvertently charged it with a small portion of his life energy, thus turning it into a deadly weapon against vampires.

  You see, people normally assume that crosses work on vampires because we live in fear of God's power. That's mostly bullshit. In order for a cross to work, a person has to truly believe in it. But as far as I’m aware, it has nothing to do with God. Faith, as it turns out, is actually a form a magic. Yeah, I know; I thought the same thing when I heard that magic is real. But it is, trust me on this. The same principle that applies to a cross can apply to anything a person truly believes in. Thus, Tom wound up in possession of a junky piece of plastic from Hasbro that, in his hands, also happened to be the equivalent of the Ark of the Covenant against my kind.

  Anyway, this magical vampire-killing toy had been broken in the final battle against my old coven master, Jeff. Tom had never let me forget it. Fortunately for me (but much to his own chagrin), he hadn't been able to empower any of his other collectables in quite the same way. However, just because he didn't love them all with the same fervor that he had loved Optimus didn't mean he wouldn't go completely apeshit when he so much as caught me or Ed looking at them.

  Tom normally kept his room locked when he wasn't around. He tended to do that ever since our early days of living together, when he’d return home to find all of his action figures waiting for him in a variety of lewd poses. For a guy who’s almost never serious, he has a surprising lack of humor when it comes to his collections.

  Within moments of hearing Gan’s voice, Ed and I arrived to find Tom’s door wide open. A flimsy key lock isn't much protection against even the weakest of vampires. We found Gan standing in the middle of a clutter of his toys. She had a big smile on her face and was busy feeding Man-at-Arms to some six-legged plastic monster.

  Oh, we were so fucked.

  Slumber Party of the Damned

  It turns out that Tom was the one who was fucked. Or at least that was my assumption, since he didn't return home that night. I was actually glad to see someone getting some action from a woman not associated with the supernatural world. Good for him. And also good for us once we finally managed to get Gan out of his room. Thank whatever dark gods watch over the toys of madmen that nothing was broken. We put everything back the best we could (but knowing that a nutcase like Tom would be able to tell if his things were even a millimeter out of place) and wedged the door shut for now. You really have no idea how stressful it was. Watching Tom have a hissy fit over his toys was one of the more off-putting things I had ever experienced...and this from a guy whose range of non-normal experiences has gone up significantly in the past year. It just wasn't natural. Experiencing Tom rant about his toys was uncomfortable in a way that was akin to staring at non-Euclidian angles for too long. His tantrums also tended to last for a long time. Thus, for a variety of reasons, Ed and I wished to avoid one at all costs.

  Once we’d finally finished, Ed decided to turn in. Considering the ruckus that I heard coming from his room, I assumed that not only had he locked himself in, but that there was probably a pretty good makeshift barrier constructed on his side of the door. I also had little doubt that he’d be sleeping with a twelve-gauge teddy-bear named Remington tonight. I guess I couldn't really blame him.

  Unfortunately, that left me alone with Gan. I had to think quickly, lest I wind up with her wanting to get all jiggy with me. Trust me when I say that's a thought I would gladly bleach out of my brain. Maybe I'm just a product of my culture. After all, even a hundred years ago a girl of Gan's (physical) age would have probably already been married off. Regardless, the creepiness factor of it all made my skin crawl. This was the big joke of my existence...I was a vampire with ethics.

  “Gan,” I finally said, “I want you to take my bed.”

  “Of course,” she answered.

  “No, I meant that I want you to take my bed, and I'll sleep on the couch.”

  She looked confused by this. “Is it not common in your culture to share the bed of your mate?”

  “Well, yeah...normally it is. It's just that...”

  “Just what then?”

  I figured I’d better just blurt it out. “Gan, it's the whole kid and adult thing. It's...just not right.”

  “In some ways, I agree,” she said.

  “Really!?” I blurted out, surprised. Maybe this wouldn't end badly after all.

  “Yes. There is a part of me that wonders if it is not right as well. You are just a child, after all (huh!?). I have lived over ten of your lives. You are practically a newborn to me (not quite what I meant). I will admit that I almost feel...how do you say it...that I am taking advantage of you.”

  “OK,” was all I could say for a moment there. This was a concept I hadn't even considered. But maybe it gave me a way out. “That’s good, Gan. I was...embarrassed to tell you this, but...I'm kind of...inexperienced with women.” Never thought I'd be playing the nervous virgin card to get out of sex. Live and learn, I guess. What an odd fuckery of a world I find myself in.

  Gan got a strange look on her face at my confession. After a moment, she replied, “What about your whore? Does she not comfort you at your whim?”

  “Sally!? No, t
rust me on that one. Not much comfort going on there.”

  Gan continued, “What about my father's servants? Did you not enjoy their services?”

  “Oh that, well...” Shit! She knew about that!?

  “I thought so. They reported back that you were quite vigorous...”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “...if a bit lacking in stamina.”

  “What!?”

  “However, I am sure we could work on that problem together. My life with father and my people has taught me great patience.”

  “One: I do not have a stamina problem,” I blurted out before really thinking about it. “They surprised me, is all. It had been a while since...” It was at that point that my subconscious kicked in and reminded me I was discussing my sex life with someone who would've looked more at home playing with a Barbie dream house. “Two: we are not having this conversation.”

  “I think it is important to discuss your inexperience.”

  “I am not inexperienced! What I meant was...” (think fast, stupid!) “Emotionally (yeah that'd work, I guess). Emotionally, I'm not sure I'm ready for this. It's a big step for me. All of the MANY women I have been with, they've just been meaningless encounters for me. I'm not sure I'm ready to take such a big step yet.” Jesus Christ, I hoped Ed wasn't eavesdropping on this. No way would he let me live this down.

  “In time, you will come to love me.” Argh! Talk about not taking the hint! Apparently, I needed to rent the jumbotron in Times Square to display in thirty-foot letters 'YOU'RE TWELVE. I'M NOT SLEEPING WITH YOU!!'

  OK, I had one last card to play. This chick I had briefly dated in college had used it successfully to keep me at bay. I found out later that she was more or less screwing her way through one of the frat houses on campus, but at the time it had sounded legit. Why not? Time for the Hail Mary pass!

  “It just wouldn't be right,” I said, channeling my inner female and trying to put a little emotional distress into my voice.

  “Why? We are mates.”

  “Yes, but we're not...married.” Ugh. I think I felt my testosterone levels drop just by saying that.

  “I am not sure I understand,” she replied

  OK, this was it. Time to go for the Oscar. “With all of those other women, it was just a physical thing. Two (and sometimes four) ships passing in the night. But this is different. I want to save myself for the right woman. Someone I can truly give myself to physically, emotionally...spiritually. If you are that woman, then you need to understand that I have to do this the right way. I need for us to wait until our bond has been sealed in the eyes of God for all of eternity.”

  I had thought I was maybe starting to spread it on a little thick there in the end, but when I looked down at Gan, I saw that she was actually misty-eyed. Oh yeah. I would like to thank the Academy!

  “You are a good man, Bill. I have chosen wisely.”

  “Thank you for understanding, Gan,” I said, continuing to shovel it on.

  “I will respect your wishes.”

  “That means a lot. Really, it does.” More importantly, it meant I got a reprieve until I could figure out how the fuck to stuff Prairie Dawn here into a box headed back towards China.

  * * *

  Sleep was a long time coming for me. Part of me wanted to keep an eye out for Gan trying to leave the apartment; however, there's also the fact that I never realized quite how uncomfortable our couch was. Our old couch had been great. Old, dusty, a little musty, but comfortable as all hell. But then Jeff had trashed it (and the rest of the apartment) looking for me. Since then, I had never gotten an opportunity to crash (or pass out) on the new IKEA model we had replaced it with. Oh well, I imagine it's only a matter of time before I piss off some other entity and the apartment gets re-trashed. Who knows? Maybe Nergui and his fun bunch will do me a favor while they're trying to kill me and give me a reason to shop for a better one. That's me...a glass is half full kind of guy.

  In the morning, I was awoken by Ed. I heard the sound of furniture being moved from behind his door, followed by him cracking it open and taking a peek around before coming out. He gave me an annoyed glare, and then went to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. Oh well, no rest for the weary, I guess. I got up to join him.

  “You look like you slept about as well as I did,” I said, grabbing my mug.

  “I kept having nightmares of Dracula's daughter trying to put me through a food processor.”

  “At least she didn't want to undress you like a Ken doll first,” I pointed out.

  “Fair enough,” he replied with a bit of confused look. “Speaking of her...”

  “In my room. Wanted to make sure she didn't try to leave in the middle of the night and kill everyone in the building.”

  “That would be hell on our rent,” Ed commented.

  “That it would,” I agreed. “By the way, I’m sorry about last night.”

  “Probably my own fault. I guess I should be more specific whenever I wish that I was jumped by girls more often.”

  We shared a chuckle at that. Both of my roommates had their oddities, but no matter what dark places I found myself in as of late, it was comforting to know that they had my back. In the friend department, I'd take quality over quantity any day.

  “Speaking of being jumped,” he continued, “Tommy boy didn't come back last night, did he?”

  “No, he did not,” I confirmed. “I’m thinking that when he gets home from work tonight, it's going to be story time.”

  “Yep. Although there is something about living vicariously through Tom that just feels...”

  “So completely wrong that you're forced to wonder whether or not you're fucked in the head?” I finished for him.

  “Exactly.”

  It was at that point that my bedroom door opened. Ed didn't move, but I could sense him tensing up. Understandable. It's one thing to be pummeled by some big bruiser that outweighs you by fifty pounds of muscle, but getting taken down by a little girl was something that would rattle any guy.

  Gan stepped out wearing one of my T-shirts.

  “Oh, this is cute,” Ed remarked under his breath, thus instantly erasing nearly all of that friendship bullshit I mentioned a second ago.

  “Don't start,” I hissed back. “Good morning, Gan,” I said in a louder voice. “Sleep well?”

  “I have slept on oxen that were more comfortable than your bed. It also smelled funny.”

  Ed wasn't quite able to conceal a laugh at that one.

  However, Gan stopped Ed's chuckle dead in its tracks by then adding, “Please have your servant open a vein so I may have breakfast. He may launder my robes when I am done.”

  “Gan, Ed is my friend, not my servant.”

  “You are friends with a human? Are they not cattle to you?”

  Ed got up in a bit of huff and walked over to wash out his mug.

  “No, Gan,” I replied. “In fact, Ed pays a third of the rent. That makes this place as much his as it is mine.”

  “A very curious thing to treat humans as equals. We do not do this where I am from.”

  “Equals?” Ed scoffed. “I'll put my dating history against Bill's any day.”

  I ignored him and continued speaking to Gan. “Ed is my friend, Gan. So is my other roommate, Tom. We treat each other the same.” Who knows, she seemed curious enough. Maybe there was some hope of reaching through to her and not only getting myself out of this mess, but also avoiding too much bloodshed in the process.

  “I think I understand.” She nodded back. “You do not eat friends.”

  “Exactly.” This was good.

  “Then let us go find some humans who are not your friends so we may dine on them.” Or maybe not. I put my head in my hands as I tried to think of something else to say.

  “Here!” Ed said, interrupting us and placing a box in front of Gan.

  “What is this!?” Gan demanded.

  “What all the cool vampire kids in America eat for breakfast...Apple Jacks.”r />
  * * *

  OK, so maybe giving a spoiled vampire brat a sugar rush wasn't the best of ideas. If so, then what we did next didn't exactly help either. Following her nutritious breakfast of cereal drowned in milk and blood (and yes, it looked disgusting even to me), we did the only thing we could think of...we sat Gan down and showed her how to the use the TV. I think it's safe to say that both Ed and myself should consider sterilization. If this was the best we could do with a kid, neither of us should ever be allowed to breed.