Demon Vampire (The Redgold Series)

by Virgil Allen Moore

  John guided Zack to his room for a talk.

  Zack knew what was in store and began by attacking first. “Who’s that? Another girl who won’t return your calls a month from now?” Zack decided to be preemptive, hoping his dad wouldn't think of the time if he got angry about the surprise date.

  “No, I told her everything about you and my past. She knows I was married.” John ducked into Zack's room a little more. He put his back to the door as he whispered. “I really think she’s a keeper, this time.”

  “Whatever you say, dad. It’s your life, but my rest. Make sure you take it outside.” Zack was on a firing streak and wasn’t letting up. Zack didn't like the idea of having to cover his ears to drown out the sounds of the bed post thumping the wall in John's room. Diane's presence wasn't welcome.

  “You’ll make due.” John lowered his eyes.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Zack was appalled at what he was hearing. “Am I supposed to be happy my dad's getting frisky with some Betty-Crocker girl?”

  John knew exactly what it sounded like, he meant it that way. “You’ll make due, or we can have a talk about why you came home so late. Which will it be?”

  Zack lowered his head. He had nothing to repute that with.

  “There's a good son. Try to get some sleep.” John started backing out, moving towards the kitchen.

  “I’m not sure I can, knowing you’ll be in the other room. What if I need to go to the bathroom?” Zack and his dad lived in a small two bedroom, one bath unit. The only toilet was next to the master bedroom. A location that Zack cringed at the thought of what he might hear while getting up to merely pee.

  “It won’t be like that, Zack. Diane and I are taking things easy. We’re going to be staying up all night, talking and eating only. We want to take this slow. You don’t need to worry. You should get some sleep regardless.” John was hurrying Zack to bed.

  “You only want to go back to Diane.” Zack wasn’t easily fooled.

  “I'm not saying you're wrong. But I am saying that you should remember what time you made it home. We can talk about that if you’re still feeling chatty.” John was quick to quip.

  Zack didn’t say a word in return. Only an affirmative nod as John stepped away and shut the door.

  Depressed and jarred over the dream Zack had on the way back, he didn’t feel like taking a nap. He was tired. Zack's eyes heavy from the day he'd had. The ice helped Zack more than he realized. John didn't notice the black eye because of it. The swelling had nearly disappeared. Zack checked his face in the mirror on the wall. It was almost healed. As good as that was, the idea of his father in the next room retorted him from simply resting easily. Zack felt parched, heavily thirsty after sitting down on the edge of his small bed. His stomach was empty, he was craving something new. Zack couldn't put a finger on it.

  Then it happened, Zack's face went flush, faint. He blacked out. Zack fell back onto his bed, cold and silent.

  * * * *

  “Are you sure you gave him enough?” An older man’s voice spoke, completely unfamiliar to Zack. Possibly in his late fifties. He sounded upset.

  “Yes, I gave him twice the regular dose needed for someone his size. I have done this before you know. Don't worry, It won't kill him.” Zack recognized the second man's voice as the bus driver. His tone was different. He sounded somehow younger than he was. It was the same voice, only quicker.

  Zack was having trouble opening his eyes. His lids were shut tight, as Zack squirmed. All he was able to make out were blurry shapes and a faint red light coming from above him.

  “Did you test the sample? Does he have it?” The first man’s voice was impatient and charged. He wanted an answer from the other man.

  “It will take time to know. These tests aren't instant you know. We’re talking about more than 300 years of latency with this one. It won’t emerge until after the thirst has become a biological need. Even then, it might take some time. Be patient. You've waited this long, haven't you?” It wasn't only his voice, the bus driver’s syntax, words, and tone were all different. It was still the same person, Zack could tell as much, it was the man that helped him of the bus.

  Zack pondered as to what was going on. What they were talking about. Why he couldn't open his eyes. Zack strained hard to reopen his eyes.

  “At least we know he is a vampeal. That in itself is good news. It means it is still viable.” There was another voice. Zack noticed the slight young undertone to it. There was something adolescent about it. High pitched and boyish, nothing like the rest.

  Zack managed to open and clear his eyes to see a shut cabinet door. The wood was old and rickety. Zack surmised that he had been put into it after he was picked up at his home. He was searching for an answer to what was going on. Zack must have been drugged while he was on the bus. Then someone kidnapped him and stuffed him in this old cabinet.

  Zack was starting to get worried about his dad now, and Diane. He knew that if someone had taken him, they would have gone through the apartment. That they must have gone through his dad to get to him. Zack wasted no time, quickly attempting to push open the old double doored cabinet. His arms met with great initial resistance. It was closed tight. Zack went at the door again. A bright light began to shine through. It was blinding. While Zack's eyes tried to adjust to the sudden radical shift, the doors faded. Zack pushed as they disappeared into a thin mist. Zack fell forward, onto his face. He was on the floor of his bedroom. The lights were off. Zack darted around to the other side of the bed to pick up the clock. He scrambled, grasping to see what time it was. It was a little past seven in the morning.

  The phone rang in the total darkness.

  Zack's mind was still in his dream when he picked up. “Hello?” Everyone that actually knew Zack either knew that he was never up at this time of day, especially on a weekend, or they didn’t know him at all.

  “I know what you are Zack.” A young woman’s voice answered. Zack was still in the process of waking up, and couldn’t discern if he knew her or not. The voice was soft, warming to him. It felt familiar, yet new.

  “Did you kidnap me last night? Are you the one that took me and laid me in bed?” Zack was trying to be livid with her. The problem was that he was groggy. He sounded drunk, making accusations to a stranger about what happened the night before.

  “No, but I might if you’re nice.” The female voice was being playful.

  “Hold on. What?” Zack's head was pounding. His face was sore and swollen now. It hurt as he placed his left hand on it. Leaning on it accidentally.

  “Don’t joke like that, Zack. It doesn’t become you.” The voice was friendly. She knew him even if Zack didn't.

  “Who is this?” Zack was calming down. He was trying to think who this might be.

  “It’s ‘K’, from last night.” Her voice was soft, inviting.

  “How did you get my number?” Zack didn’t give her anything more than a name to go on as he ran out on her last night.

  “That’s what you ask me? Not ‘how are you doing?’ or an ‘it’s nice to hear from you, I’m glad you called.’ Does it truly matter how I got your number? Or are you upset with the fact that I called you so early?” K was irritated, clearly. She wanted Zack to explain his attitude. She had no idea what happened to him after he left the club.

  “Well, I didn’t give it to you. I wanted to, but I hesitated.” Zack was getting shy, remembering how he felt the other night. “You're just so-” Zack stopped.

  “So what?” K asked. Her smile could be felt through the phone. She wanted to hear what Zack thought of her.

  Zack spoke again without thinking. He held his head as he said the words. “So amazing. You're a dream. I wouldn't have thought you would ever talk to me. Of all people at the club that night. I can't begin to compare, let alone think about giving you my number.” Zack rambled, honest in his half awake state.

  “But I knew you wanted to, though. That’s what counts, Zack.” K was flirting with Za
ck, but he didn’t notice.

  “So ‘K’-“ Zack was timid.

  “It’s Kyli.” She said energetically.

  “What?” Zack wasn't expecting her to say it so quickly.

  “My name, it’s Kyli.” She said again.

  “Kyli what? What’s your last name?” Zack was probing too fast too soon.

  “Back down, Speedy. You haven’t earned that privileged info yet. We'll get to proper introductions on the second date.” Kyli was pushing the issue in her voice with a commanding tone. She wanted Zack to know her boundaries upfront.

  Zack's head was splitting open now. He thought of the nightmare he just had. “So Kyli, how did you get my number?” Zack was getting paranoid.

  “You’re paranoid, Zack. Relax. You gave me your full name when we met, and there are not that many Givers listed in Gainesville, Florida.” Kyli was being smug. She knew that Zack was startled for some reason. She was getting his goat on purpose. For the moment, it was well worth causing a bit of irritation on his part. “Besides, if I did kidnap you, I’d leave a mark. Somewhere hard to see, someplace difficult to reach.”

  “Like what?” Zack's eyes lit up. He checked his arms and legs for anything unusual.

  “A set of two red marks on an unknown location, somewhere interesting on your body.” Kyli was flirting heavy now. Suggesting things that a steady couple might find regular, but not two strangers as they were.

  Zack quickly looked over his body again, feeling for any raised bumps or bruised areas. “Wait, you mean like a bite?” Zack didn’t know what to think. He knew he wasn't into masochism, so he wanted to clarify things before they went any further.

  “No, like two lips pressed against your skin from fresh red lipstick of course. That’s all, Zack. What did you think I meant?” Kyli was toying with him again. Trying to provoke a candid response from Zack.

  It worked. “I thought you meant you wanted to bite me.” Zack blurted out.

  “No, but I can do that if you want me to.” Kyli’s voice suddenly became somber and faintly seductive. She was serious in her off kilter offer.

  Zack was quiet on his end of the line.

  Kyli spoke up. “Zack, do you like music?”

  Zack was hesitant, not knowing what Kyli might say. “Of course, who doesn’t? What kind of music?” He had a feeling there was a chance of landing a date in the near future.

  “Classical musical goblets.” Kyli spoke with an enticing whisper. It sent chills down the back of Zack's neck.

  “Musical glasses you mean? I’m really not that into-“ Zack was cut off.

  “-Musical goblets, NOT glasses.” Kyli corrected Zack with assertion. “The musician is named Demetrius Del Marin, and he is quite good at what he does. I think you'll like him. He’ll be in town for a string of concerts soon. The next one will be in a few days.”

  “I’m not sure, I need to check what I’m doing.” Zack didn't adore classical music. Frankly it put him to sleep. He was thinking of a proper excuse to change the current venue of their date.

  Kyli heard the pause in Zack's voice. She pounced on him with force. “Zack, you’re telling me that you want to reject a proposal from a tall, beautiful girl you met recently. Only because you don’t like the event?”

  The phone went dead, Zack didn’t know what to say. He knew this was a trap, everything screamed trap. Kyli had placed him in a sling and was ready to send him flying if he didn't say the right thing. Zack knew there was only one way out alive. He didn’t want to give Kyli the satisfaction of twisting his arm into a flat ‘yes.’ Zack wanted to retain a little of his pride as a man. He liked the idea of going to a movie, something that involved violence was always a good choice. Zack wanted something to test if Kyli enjoyed the same things he did. Zack was hoping to play it safe for their date.

  Kyli changed the question. “Zack. Can you do something for me?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Zack was timid about saying yes to an open request. Considering what Kyli had said so far, his fears were valid.

  “Reach down, deep down, far down, into that happy place. It’s where you keep all your pride, desire, and courage.” Kyli could hear that Zack wasn't taking her seriously. “Try, for real. Please reach deep, far down into that special place and locate your balls for me. You know, your manhood. The ones that are attached to you. Because if you don't find them fast, this is going to end real quick.”

  Zack couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not. Kyli's voice seemed serious enough. At the same time he felt that she was poking fun at him and calling out his insecurities.

  Kyli was and it was working exactly as she had planned.

  “What the hell?” Zack complained.

  “No, WTF. 'What the fuck' is what you should be saying.“ Kyli said it nonchalantly.

  “I know what that means, Kyli. You don’t have to spell it out for me. Of course I want to go out with you, I just don’t want to go there.” Zack blurted out how he truly felt. He was suddenly being honest with her again.

  It took Kyli pressing Zack's buttons, but she was able to force him into leveling with her. “Then consider this making up for running out on me last night. You'll come with me to the concert because that's something I want to do. Treat me right and I'll do something you want me to do. Or at least go where you want me to go.” Kyli sighed and then paused as if she had come to a decision. “Now you have to go.”

  “Why is that, exactly?” Zack was intrigued. He didn't want to go. The concert sounded boring regardless of how intriguing Kyli was. He wanted to be closer to her. Zack was getting comfortable with her.

  “To see if you can look at me and what I’m wearing. Instead of staring at my body and thinking that's okay.” Kyli told Zack.

  Zack’s throat became tight.

  “If you can keep your eyes on the performance, we might even see each other for a third date.” Kyli was being strategic with Zack.

  Zack coughed, clearing his voice. He was thinking that this was all too fast. Too good to happen to him. “Why me? Why did you approach me last night? What made me so special?” It was nagging him, Zack felt something was strange about the way Kyli introduced herself. First coming out of the blue, then continuing to pursue him.

  “You’re different Zack.” Kyli spoke softly, slowly. She was thinking of his face. How he looked broken and all alone.

  “How different can I be? I’m not tall, I’m not well spoken, and I’m certainly not attractive. How exactly did I catch the eye of someone like you? Please let me understand why.” Zack was laying it down. Kyli was a Gothic goddess to him. There was no good reason for her to be interested in him.

  “You’re more special than you know, Zack. Eventually I’ll have enough time to explain why. We’ll talk about all this soon, on some dark, cloudy night a few weeks from now. After we can get to know each other better. In the meantime, know that there is a reason I find you interesting. Let’s leave it at that.” Kyli chuckled.

  “What?” Zack wanted to know what was so funny. He was beginning to feel alienated.

  “Besides, you are cute.” Kyli said as she thought of Zack's face.

  The sound of rain fell against the bedroom wall. It began to storm. A sound that Zack had become used to having no windows in his room. Zack had more than relaxed by the end of the conversation. He wanted to talk more, Zack wanted to ask if Kyli enjoyed the same things he did. He wanted to find a middle ground to talk about that was away from classical music. Regretfully, Zack wasn’t able to muster the gall to tell Kyli she was as beautiful as he thought she was.

  “You still there?” Kyli’s soft words rang through Zack's mind, down to his toes in a soft, pleasant chill.

  Zack wished that he could say ‘I’d rather be there.’ He was ready to. Zack was on the edge of returning the notion of flirtation Kyli was sending his way. He tried to speak and couldn't.

  Five cold fingers of an unknown left hand clamped Zack's neck tight. They kept him from saying anything at all. The vice on his th
roat was inhuman, incontestable. Not stone, but cold indomitable flesh. Zack turned his head towards this unknown figure. As much as he could with the pressing grasp preventing him from talking.

  The scent of damp wool clothing filled Zack's nose. A tall man of six foot, in a flat black suit stood behind his left shoulder. He had short, and very dark black hair. His olive skin was starkly perfect of what Zack was able to see. Half of the man's face was obscured by the shadow coming from the cracks of Zack's bedroom door. He seemed very focused, very absolute in his actions as he held Zack in place. The man’s eyes were dark, almost red to Zack in the dim light. He appeared to be Italian. He had a clean shave and was dressed like a bible salesman. The only thing wrong with him was his collar. A dark red stain of dried blood cascaded down his pressed white shirt.

  Zack felt a sense of foreboding emanating from him. He knew this was not a good time to panic. Frankly, Zack was too frightened to panic. His only thought was to not provoke this stranger. Zack slowly lowered the phone to his lap. He knew this person didn’t want to kill him, at least not for now. Otherwise he would have been attacked sooner and might have been killed before the end of his conversation with Kyli. This man wanted something from him. Zack sat still, thinking it was best to let him do what he wanted. The tall man stared at Zack, examining his face.

  Zack gently squeezed the phone to press a button or two with his thumb as he hung up. A small signal to Kyli that she might check on him. Being that Zack still had something to say, there was a chance that his intention might be received in the right way to save him from whomever this was. Then if Zack was lucky, she would go looking for him. Zack wanted as much insurance as he could get before he went down this path forced upon him.