The Last Vampire

by Mary Danganan

  I listened to her rants at the initial seconds of her talk, keeping my lips sealed as she recommended some advice. My head began to drift off, taking its field trip to the analytic side of my brain.

  Kirsten was right. My eyes started to open for the truth. Jorge was a fictional character, a goody-two-shoes that would only exist in the fantasy kingdom. He was a dreamy leading man that I could only see when I sleep but could never touch and hold forever. He was only a taste of heaven, a tease of paradise.

  He was never mine.

  “Why don’t you give James a chance? I know that guy liked you for ages, but you keep on ignoring him. I bet you’ll be a happy couple, anyway.” Kirsten’s voice was fading from my hearing, but I did not care much.

  All I knew was that I want to go home and lay in bed all day.

  Chapter 9: Jorge Savage

  It was long since I felt cold. My skin was so used to the chilly, evening wind that brought shivers to humans. Tonight, I was nothing different to them. The vulnerability and weakness I had not experienced since I knew the world was crashing hard into my system and burning into flames.

  I was caught off-guard by what Peyton said.

  It was clearly impossible. It could not happen.

  Peyton was living her life alone, and the jeopardy she was facing was no joke. How stupid was she to take that bait and swirl it around as if it was a toy? She was too delicate and fragile to know what that threat was plotting in his mind.

  I tried to reconsider Peyton’s story for a number of times on my way home. It could never be a fraudulent, exaggerated series of incidentally connected series of tragedy. Whoever the person sending her clues was, he was definitely knowledgeable about who we truly were. He was aware of our ways. He could slay like a vampire. Those wounds were inflicted by a superhuman. And that book. That book should not have survived the fall. I knew my father carried nothing as we fled, except for me. And assuming that he did bring that book, my father had never shown me that historical item only the vampires had witnessed.

  Did he keep it somewhere I did not know?

  But he never kept any secrets from me. He was the person I looked up to, and I knew my father would never fail me.

  All I knew was one thing's for sure. The anonymous source was one of us.

  But then again, why Peyton? Why was he messing with the lives of innocent people? What was his motive?

  Was he running after me? Or was he targeting my weak spot?

  Goodness, gracious. This anonymous source must be setting a booby trap for me, locking his target and loading his weapons as he tortured me in the worst ways possible. I could not let him harm anyone.

  I should know who he was.

  In the accomplishment of that aspiration, I needed to do some sacrifices. Staying around Peyton would bring danger to her life. The pain of leaving her was surreal, and just by merely thinking about it broke my heart.

  But I needed to man up and protect her. I could not be a coward leaning for support on her. I should keep her away from whatever that bogeyman was wickedly scheming in his head.

  I returned to my library, pursuing the high shelves in search of something I certainly did not know. My head was all over the place, and my chest was pulsating hard I could feel my veins pumping on their own beat. My eyes were almost crowded with tears from unknown emotions of fear. As each hard, thick bound book hit the floor, I got more tensed with the hard beating against the surface.

  “What’s all the noise about, son?” I did not bother to look but I heard the clicking of my father’s shoes on the floor. It did not matter if he was here. It was my least desired activity to speak to him.

  Posing the question for another time was a ludicrous move. I knew so perfectly what his answer was going to be or where the conversation was heading. It was definitely not the best time to beat around the bush and reminisce old memories with this situation.

  Ignoring him, I submerged my brain on wrecking each shelf, furiously scattering the books everywhere. Without me knowing it, I had literally smashed the sturdy wood, creating a mess from all the pages and pieces of wood.

  “Son, is there a problem?”

  And then, my peak was filled to the brim. I stopped my vehement rummage and stared at him with fiery eyes. I rolled my fists as I spoke through gritted teeth, trying my best to calm myself, but it was a futile effort.

  “Is there another survivor?”

  He wrinkled his brows, baffled by my vague inquiry. He remained silent, but his eyes stayed staring at mine. “None, son. I could not be mistaken.”

  “What makes you so sure about that?” Impolite as he might call it, but I could not stop myself. Everything was getting on my nerves, and there’s nothing else that could convince me to relax.

  “I know.”

  “What the hell do you know? You always tell me you are so sure about this, but you don’t even have a proof to say those things.” I watched as his jaw dropped, his face paler than the usual, pallor complexion we had. I felt a pang of guilt in my guts, but I went on with the rage in my brain.

  “Son, believe me. I won’t lie to you, you know that.” He took a few steps forward, but he ceased walking after taking two or three. He seemed to understand how severe my anger had gone that even himself moved distant in fright.

  “You know nothing!” With a strong punch on the huge, robust wooden shelf before me, it fell off balance with a big hole left where my fist landed. My father’s eyes were still on mine, saddened by the intense behavior I was exhibiting.

  “Please calm down, Jorge. Help me get through what’s in your mind.” He gathered all his courage and went towards my direction, meeting me halfway as I stood frozen in the middle of the pile of debris a powerful calamity could cause.

  “There are massive deaths happening around us since we dwelt in this place. You fooled me into keeping these things. I know you know, but why did you not tell me?” I was on the edge of a breakdown, but I convinced myself that I should not cry over these issues.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, son. Death is common to humans. They are weaker than us, and they could not protect themselves. That’s the way the world goes for them.” He made sense, but it was completely irrational. The fatal murder was too unbelievable to be committed by a mortal.

  “Are you too blinded to see? There is someone out there, an opponent survived and he’s killing people!” My father looked ridiculed by what I just said.

  “Son, that’s impossible. We are the only ones left.” He said it again, which made me madder than ever.

  “Alright, fine then. Maybe there’s someone breaking the covenant. Who could that be?” It sounded sarcastic as I hoped it would be, pointing my speculation against him. It was all blurry in my head, and my brain did not seem to process much anymore.

  If there were no other vampires living in this world, then the scoundrel messing with Peyton’s head had to be between the two of us.

  My father’s eyes were round and big as saucers, shocked by my sudden rudeness. It was not my nature, and our relationship had been tested by the years we could no longer count. He was my best friend all this time that’s why the pain in my heart was too hard to handle.

  “Son, you know how much I love your mother. I can never do that to her.” His voice was starting to shake, troubled by the water fighting to flow out of his eyes. I felt more tears rolling my cheeks.

  “Then, she must be really disappointed.” I turned my back from my father, walking the opposite direction towards the completely fine, undamaged shelves of my spacious library.

  “Son, please talk to me.”

  “You may go now. Please.”

  “Jorge, please.”

  “I said leave me alone!”

  After a few seconds of silence, I listened as his delicate, rhythmic footsteps fade in my ears. As soon as the door closed, I sank on the floor like a melting candle. I looked around the room, contemplating all the mess I made. My life’s work was gone and pounded int
o pieces, irrecoverable by any other means possible.

  My whole life was gone.

  Chapter 10: Peyton Hunt

  I spent most of the days staring at my desk calendar, letting the seconds turn into minutes and eventually hours doing completely nothing. The days felt like years as if everything in my life had been a paused scenario on a movie flick while I moved around, aware of the things that lost their lives.

  Autopilot. Yes, that explained how I worked most of the times these past few days. The editor in chief was unimpressed of it, of course, but I was too dormant to ignore his reprimands. My desk started to pile up with tons of paper works and assignments with red stickers marked Urgent, but I did not care about it.

  I was in total chaos, and my depressed state had been the fruit of this sort of obstacle I faced. The only hindrance that blocked my peace of mind and focus was Jorge. That bright, sunny day was the last time I caught sight of him. Since the moment he walked out without explaining why he was going, I never saw him again. Nobody ever saw him, and I had no hopes of asking anyone if they happen to know Jorge.

  “Hey, Pey-nuts.” James rested his chin on top of my divider half-wall, his eyes checking out the rest of my tired, worn out expression. I forced a smile at him, showing a full set of teeth to convince him that I was indeed fine.

  “Halloween had already lapsed last week, weirdo. Cut that out, you’re sending chills all over my body.” He pretended to shiver with a fake troubled expression, making me laugh for the first time again.

  “I give up, Boyle. You’re such a natural.” I was still catching my breath as I spoke those words. I gazed into his eyes, noticing the sparkle in them for the first time. I had known James since we were in high school, and he was one of the best people I had in my life.

  I could still recall that day when I sat alone in the back corner of the room with no friends around to chat with. A guy with glasses came near me, asking the most ridiculous yet life-changing question as he stared straight into my eyes.

  “I like your shirt.”

  He pointed on the over-sized shirt I wore with the Scooby Doo cartoon print on it. From that day, he decided to spend the day seated beside me, making me laugh at all times. He was the best guy I knew, and I had treasured him as a best friend ever since.

  “What are you looking at? Are my glasses frosted?” He asked, conscious by how long I laid eyes on him. He was attractive with a charm that ascended further as you spent more time with him. He was easy to love, but why had I not chosen him all these years?

  “They’re crystal clear. Plus, you’ll know it before I noticed it.” I rolled my eyes, getting my eyes back on my computer and pretending to work, although the monitor reflected nothing but my cartoon inspired desktop wallpaper.

  “By the way, this one’s for you.” He threw a bar of chocolate on the air, which I caught at perfect timing. By the time I thanked him, he was already walking back towards his work desk. As I was left back in solace, I checked the sweet treat he had given.

  Aside from his thoughtful gift, a note was attached to the colorful wrapper of the dessert.

  “How unfair the heavens were when they created you. You’re still beautiful even when you’re sad.”

  I glanced at the divider as I sneaked a peek at his work desk. He was already back at work, obsessing himself over the screen of his desk computer. Eventually, our eyes met. He gave me a tired yet cheerful grin, and then he was back at his research again.

  I sat back in my chair as I faced my monitor. Kirsten’s voice came echoing in my ears, reminding me of what she suggested in the diner the last time we met.

  I was left in terrible confusion.

  *****

  “So let me get this straight for you, Ms. Hunt. You have missed the deadline for the weekly task, you have forgotten about the interview scheduled for the past month, and now you got nothing accomplished for today’s news?”

  I watched as the editor in chief’s chest rose and fell in incredulous wrath. My head was not in the mood to focus on him and I wanted to scold myself for being too cool about his warnings. This was extremely inappropriate. I had been in a consistent bad status for the record, and the list of things why my boss hated me seemed to get longer and longer each passing day.

  I thought I could change my ways and improve, but that was a sketching duty on the water. The vague, disarrayed thoughts in the back of my head were inactive. I did not know how to trigger back my former strong drive and motivation either, it seemed like it had flown far away with the wind.

  “I’m sorry, Sir.” The only words I could utter were apologies since promises would be too unbelievable to say.

  “Can I sell those apologies, Ms. Hunt?” I could imagine a dark aura emitted by my boss’s round body as we went on with the conversation. I was never his favorite, but I was always the dust that stung his eye. I was his worst staff even though I did something big and splendid for the pub. I was unsure if he was laughing inside as he watched my downfall, or angered by the disgusting negligence I was exhibiting for the past days.

  “No, Sir.”

  “I can’t hear you.”

  “We can’t sell them, Sir.”

  “Then, can we publish them for today?” His critique eyes were studying me, staring me down from head to toe. I shifted my weight on the other foot, keeping my balance as he proceeded on nitpicking my physical attributes.

  “No, Sir.”

  “What are we going to do now, Ms. Hunt?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, his brows interlinked and united as one, writhed line.

  “I shall work on these problems, Sir. I’m very sorry for the troubles I have caused the pub.” I stepped forward towards the editor’s table to pick up the folders I needed, but his palm smashed on them before I could move.

  “No, Ms. Hunt. I can’t let these assignments be left in your hands. We both know how they’ll end up in your custody.” I felt daggers piercing my chest, but I swallowed my ego hard.

  “Sorry about that, Sir. I am willing to work on other assignments you wish to give.”

  “Yeah, that’s the best move. I’ll assign you with Boyle as their team's assistant for now. That’s the position I see you are very much fit to handle.” He moved all the previous paper works I held away from his desk, snatching them away to reassign the duties to another writer.

  His expression seemed to soften, cooling off from the temper he had been feeling. As he returned his stare to me, he gave me a bored look.

  “Do you still want anything?” He raised his brows, waiting for what I had to say. I answered him with a skeptic expression.

  “Can I have the new assignments now? The files and documents needed for the task, Sir? ”

  He let out a peevish chuckle as if he was marveled at the idiocy of my inquiry.

  “Haven’t you heard what I just said, Ms. Hunt? Do I have to reiterate it to you or do you want me to say it in simpler, more comprehensible terms?” There was a glint of fury in his eyes, and that was my cue to leave his office before he could burst into flames. I bowed as an apology and left without saying anything, leaving his office while there was still time to go safely.

  I reconsidered his words and realized what he meant. As I walked with a mortified face towards my desk, I found James standing near it, as if he was waiting for my return from hell.

  “So, Peyton. Uh, er--” He was stammering as he avoided my eyes. It was his usual defense mechanism every time he was guilty of something.

  I was the one guilty here, and he had nothing to worry about that.

  “Yeah, hey.” I sat in my chair, fixing my eyes on the scenic screensaver that flashed before my monitor.

  “I’m sorry about the demotion.”

  “It’s okay, James. I truly deserve it.”

  “No. You’re a hardworking woman that performs her work at the best quality ever. I am a witness to your dedication towards becoming a journalist. Nobody can beat that, Peyton.”

  “I’m not really sure
about that now.” I let out a heavy breath as if I held it long enough inside of my lungs. My heart had always known what it wanted, and I was a fighter willing to face all the hindrances and trials that blocked my way.

  But now, it felt like my head’s splitting into halves. My body felt the long due exhaustion it should had experienced. The tension of work and stress of my problems started to drag me down. It was as if my heart was starting to doubt itself, unsure of why I was dwelling on this hellish path in the first place.

  “Hey, don’t say those things. I know you’re better than that.” I felt his eyes on mine, even though I was averting his stares. His words triggered the weak person inside of me. My eyes were starting to shroud with tears as the bitter and awful segments of my life flashed in my head.

  “I don’t know what to do anymore.” My voice was shaky and almost inaudible.

  “Relax and breathe. Take a break. Watch your favorite Scooby Doo toons. Eat ice cream, pizza, and cheeseburgers. Enjoy the day with friends. Do anything that you love, Peyton. I know you can do this, and I believe in you even though the rest of the world hates you.” He smiled sweetly at me as I watched his eyes twinkle.

  Before I even realized it, I felt one tear fell from my eye, which was followed by another. He was worried about my unexpected breakdown, worried by the effect of his words on me. He took my hand and squeezed it tight, gently caressing my skin with his thumb.

  “I’m a sucker for these type of moments.” He let go of my hand, and I sank in my desk with my head facing down. For a moment I felt I was left behind on the dark side, but the emptiness was immediately filled when I felt arms around my shoulders, warming me up.

  I did not bother to raise my head and instead cried more in silence. His hug was comforting and sincere as if it was the cure I was hoping to get for the tough days that had passed.

  “Whatever that burdens your heart, I’m just here for you. I’ll stay by your side and keep you happy. I’m that annoying friend you can never get rid of, remember that.”