The Master turned to him quickly and sharply said, ‘I do not wish to know’
‘I thought we were friends,’ Michael said in a whining voice, sounding rejected.
‘We are Teacher and Pupil. Or Master and Servant. Whichever you understand better.’
They stood in silence for while. Michael's mind wandered on the thoughts of the lovely Kate and whether he would see her again soon.
‘When I first met her, I thought I had met her before, you know, Kate.’
‘Yes, she is from somewhere not far from here. You may have met her before she turned.’
‘Oh right,’ Michael was quiet for a moment and then murmured, ‘You don’t seem to be in as good a mood as you were the other night.’
‘I am quite perplexed about a matter, Michael. The other night, I started the process of ascending a small group of people, towards what they will one day thank me for making them. Just a small group, you see, who will be part of my army. If I had made many subjects, well…… it would be a lot of work for me to look after. So if I make a small amount, they can recruit others and look after their own. Plus. We need to leave some for our refreshments, yes? So, the food that was especially made for the band, had a special ingredient. And the wine that was supplied.’
‘I ate some of that food too!’
‘Yes, also you alone drank from my special vintage, which was in my office. Not only do you, and the others have a special place in the world now, you also have, what you might say, a scent or marker on you, that I can find anywhere. And nothing can wash it off or wash it out of you.’
‘Fair enough,’ Michael said and shrugged his shoulders. ‘So why are you perplexed then?’
‘Because I expected all of my protégé’s to be at home, as until I help them along, they might feel unwell due to the marvelous changes beginning in their body. In their soul. But one is not at home. One is here and I did not want that. A female. And I want to know why and I am how you say cross about it.’ He seemed to be straining to hear and had his head cocked to one side. He sniffed the air a lot and sometimes opened his red lips, with his mouth wide, he would take in a gulp of air even though, it was clear, he did not breathe. He would then click his tongue on the roof of his mouth like he was tasting something. He then came out of this sensory phase and turned to Michael.
‘I want to eat them. To look inside them. To immerse myself in their warm blood. It arouses me. I can do that every day soon. And I will Michael,’ He shivered at the thought. It seemed almost orgasmic.
‘Us red-blooded males eh? Woman don’t get it do they,’ Michael said. He had no idea of how intense this perversion was. Norman seemed to shake himself out of it.
‘However we have work to be done, places to go, visits to make. You and I, Michael. The night is young. My confusion about this human can wait another day. They will not deter me from my path.’
Tonight, there were two people being very naughty on the canal path. Nick Smith was up to quite a lot with his best friends wife. It wasn’t the first time either. They were only about six feet on to the path and Claire was worried they would be seen. She stopped kissing Nick and pulled his hand out from under her dress.
‘Let’s go a bit further, baby, we might get seen.’ She said.
‘We won’t get seen, we might get heard though, you get too carried away, ohh Nick…ohh Nick,’ he mocked in a breathy girls voice.
‘Cheeky!’ she laughed and grabbed him by the hand and pulled him further down the path. They were so drunk.
She leaned against the wall, and put her arms around him, chewing his ear.
‘Hard and for a long time tonight, Baby.’ She asked.
‘Your wish is my command.’ He bent her over the wall and they were both soon groaning. They were hot and nearly fully clothed and didn’t feel the cool November air. Even though it was pitch black they both had their eyes closed in ecstasy.
Keith removed his baton and tapped the wall with it. They both looked at him, definitely inebriated and the woman giggled.
‘Shit!’ she said.
‘What are you looking at Pig,’ grunted the man as he continued with what he was doing. ‘Are you jealous? You don’t look like you get much. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be done. You won’t put me off. Nothing does. I could probably even manage to give it to your wife after this one, if you can’t manage it. ’
Keith’s eyes flared and he snarled through his teeth.
‘You have just made a very serious mistake,’ He raised his baton. Keith narrowed his eyes and he looked at the woman who was trying to pull up her underwear. ‘Run. Now.’ He hissed at the woman. And she did.
Maurice sat listening to the radio, the sounds of Strauss echoed through his house. He was considering trying out his legs again. There was an insatiable hunger in his stomach, he would kill for liver and onions, but knew he didn’t have the ingredients, and wasn’t prepared to test his legs enough to the shop and back. His mouth was watering, just thinking about it. On second thoughts, even though he fancied if…..well, the onions would only add to his indigestion. By the time he had made it and eaten it, it would be time for bed. Then he would be trying to sleep on a full stomach. No, no. It was a silly idea. His doorbell rang. Looking at the clock on the mantelpiece, it was now 8.45pm. Very unusual to get callers at this time. Maybe it was Mrs Williams next door, having a funny turn and needing his help. He got up slowly out of his chair. Carefully, but without his stick, using the walls for balance, he made his way to the front door. When he opened it, he was faced with two people. One man he knew well, and one man he had only met once. Both were smiling. ‘Come in,’ he said.
7 - Turning
As she looked out of her French windows, across the Hills and down to the village below, Christine reflected on the information she had received from the Hospital this morning. She wondered which would get her first, the Alzheimer’s or the bailiffs. The race was on. Everything she had fought, lied, cheated and begged for would soon be gone. She had few options left on the bailiff front and little hope for a recovery from the Alzheimer’s. A drop of condensation ran down her window and she traced it with her finger. Why was she so lonely? No one was here to help her, get her out of her financial mess or give her sympathy or help after her news today. Nevertheless, she would always fight to survive. She turned her direction to The Grange and decided that it wasn’t going to be the bailiffs that got her first as least. She wiped her tears away, sniffed and reached for her red lipstick.
Diane was feeling tired. All she was doing was sleeping but never felt refreshed. She really had to kick the habit of drinking so much. She lay in bed with her eyes closed, but awake. She squinted through her eyelids towards the window and realized it was daytime as there was a faint light coming through her curtains. A gap was open at the top, where they were not drawn properly and the light lay across the bottom of her bed in a large triangle. She guessed that she was hung over, but couldn’t remember drinking last night. She heard a faint knock on the door and said, ‘Yeah?’ Her voice sounded small and far away. The door opened, but Diane didn’t open her eyes. There was only one person it could be.
‘Are you alright?’ Sophie asked.
‘No, I still feel shit and tired and weak,’ she whispered.
‘Should I ring the doctors?’
‘No. I just need some rest. I’ve felt worse than this many a time.’ There was silence for a moment then Sophie said,
‘Your voice sounds really hoarse and quiet, do you want a cuppa?’
‘Just a drink of water please, Soph. Is it Thursday?’
‘Yeah. Everyone who did the ten piece at the weekend has come down with something. Loads were off last night.’
‘That’s shit. But at least I know where it came from and it’s food poisoning or a bug. I was worried it was more serious than that. Can you straighten my curtains at the top, its bugging me.’ Diane murmured.
‘Yeah. Will you be alright tonight? I was going to go out.’
Sophie crossed the room and sharply pulled the top of the curtains together with both hands.
‘I’ll pull myself together later and get myself downstairs Soph. I’ll be fine.’
‘I’ll get your water and some tablets,’ Sophie said softly as she closed the door behind her, leaving Diane with her thoughts.
Peter Woodall sat in his living room and had not opened the curtains. His black mood spread outwards from him, immersing each room in gloom and anger. He had not spoken to his wife since they had awoken this morning.
‘Woody, you look really pale.’
‘I feel like shit, that’s why, Janet. You don’t have to be bloody Sherlock Holmes to work that out,’ Woody snapped back at her.
‘I’m just saying. Maybe you should get some fresh air. Have a walk or something.’
‘Have a walk outside in the cold grey morning, when I feel like this? I’m ill. You’re not very bright are you? I don’t feel like it and I’m not doing it.’
‘It’s forecast snow next week. If you wanted a walk, you would be best doing it now.’
‘I don’t want a walk. It’s you who wants me to have a walk,’ his voice got louder, ‘you go for a bloody walk. Stop annoying me.’
‘Why are you being like this with me?’ She asked.
‘This is me, holding my temper. You wouldn’t’ like to hear what I really want to say.’
Janet sighed, ‘This isn’t like you. You will have to get yourself sorted for tomorrow night. You missed band last night, someone will be sitting in your seat if you don’t watch it.’
‘Ernie can replace me if he wants to. I’m sick of everyone there and they can stick it up their arses.’
‘Why are you saying this? You love everyone at band. Did you have a row with them all at the weekend that you didn’t tell me about? Did something go on when I was out last night?’
‘No. Just go for your walk, woman,’ Woody snapped.
‘At least open the bloody curtains. It stinks in here as well,’ she said as she walked away. Woody muttered something under his breath about having an off stomach, but she felt she had had the last word on the matter. It was time to ring Liz or someone and tell them about this, before it got out of hand.
Keith was sitting in an old chair. One that he had saved when his wife, Yvonne, was on a spring clean and declutter a few years back. Sticking his heels in and he said he wasn’t getting rid of it. It was comfy and he liked it and it fitted his body. She said she was changing the living room décor and if he wanted it, it was going in the basement or to the charity shop. So it was in the basement. It had deteriorated somewhat since and now had several strips of black tape holding the stuffing in, but that didn’t bother him. After he had taken a lamp down there, he could sit sometimes and do a crossword or read a book. Other men had got their garden sheds and he had his basement. The lamp wasn’t on now though. It was dark. Inky black. But he could see. He was thinking about the previous night. The pleasure he took from beating the man and leaving him bleeding on the ground. About later meeting two kindred spirits on the canal path. One more welcome than the other. He had never been friends with Michael Thompson, he just tolerated him and only spoke when he had to. That seemed to matter less this morning. He definitely saw eye to eye with Norman though. Maybe more than that. They had come to an understanding.
Keith had returned to his broken human on the path. Nick now lay on his basement floor on a piece of carpet. The carpet was red before but redder now. Keith needed to see where humans gushed blood most. He had found out. Nick was still alive, but unconscious and not doing well. His mouth was taped with the same tape that held Keith’s armchair together. Confident that he would be a good source of food for a while, Keith felt secure. He rubbed his thumb over the side of his neck discovering he could barely feel the bite now. Feeling powerful, stronger than he ever had, he was angry that his wife was at her sister’s for a few days. He could have practiced on her in the comfort of his own basement. Tonight he would have to go out to feed, if he didn’t want to finish off Nick. He knew that going out tonight wouldn’t be a problem and he leant back in the chair, looked at the ceiling and waited.
Maurice had been busy in the night. First he went to his paper recycling bin and got out a load of newspapers. Then he taped a double layer on all of his windows and shut his curtains again. People would think he was decorating. Then he walked two miles to an all night supermarket. He had made a list. The liver he needed and a loaf of bread. That was it. Trying the self-service till for the first time, which he had avoided before meant but he would have no questions from the till staff. Maurice cleaned them out of liver and took three large carrier bags full, and carried them home, using both his hands, as he had no stick. Without pain, or indigestion or tiredness. He got back about five am and put all of the liver in the fridge apart from two packs. Then he put the kettle on. He set himself a place at the kitchen table. Then put out a knife, fork, plate and salt and pepper. He checked the table, something was missing, what was it? Ah yes, of course, the Brown Sauce. The kettle boiled and he made a pot of tea. Putting the teapot, with it’s knitted tea cosy next to his place setting. He tipped the raw liver on his plate and placed it down, looking down at the trays that the liver had been packaged in. Picking up his loaf of bread, he dropped chunks into the empty trays, soaking up all the blood that was at the bottom each tray. He then tipped these red and white clouds of bread onto his plate. On top of the pile of food, he used the salt and pepper and finally plenty of brown sauce. Maurice sat and ate his breakfast heartily. After that, he washed up and cleared up the kitchen. Very contented, he reclined in his usual chair and switched on Breakfast TV.
That evening, Norman was mulling over his recent work. His turning of the old man was easy and he thought he would make a good vampire. Maybe an unexpected vampire to some. Very non threatening. However, the other one, the Policeman, was a violent human just this side of sane. He would take a lot more controlling and could prove a little problematic. But unfortunately, he had been a member of the band, thus consuming Norman’s blood, so he had to be turned after that. Not to mention that he needed to get The Police on his side at some point anyway, for his plan to work. He would keep a close eye on that one. He didn’t want to show his hand too early. That could be disastrous.
He heard footsteps on the gravel of his path. This was unexpected, as he had told the waste of skin Michael to call in two hours time at eight o’clock. He walked to his front door and before the person could knock, he opened it. Christine stood in front of him smiling.
‘Could I have a word please, sweetie,’ she asked and stepped inside without being invited. He moved aside.
‘Of course, my dear. Come in.’
She clacked her way across the wooden hall floor. She had high heeled sandals on, and no tights. He noticed she must have gone through some mud on the way down and it was all over her toes. All this in November, too. Hmmm… he sensed a hint of desperation. It was looking good for him. She went into the green room and sat on the sofa. He followed and took a chair that was nearly opposite the sofa. She had a cotton handkerchief in her hands, which was certainly not fresh. She twisted it this way and that in her hands.
‘Would you like a wine, Christine?’
‘No thank you Norman,’ she twisted the handkerchief again, ‘I was wondering if you wanted to go into partnership with me? I can see we are alike. You have obviously done well for yourself and we are both business people. I have a few ideas, lots of contacts and a superb business interest that just require a little bit of capital to get off the ground.’
‘Yes? What business interest?’
‘We will save that for another day, sweetie. You know you can trust me, don’t you?’
‘Oh Christine. I have heard many things about you. People talk. People at the party for instance. People who work here. People in the bank. One thing I have heard from all of them is that I should never trust you.’
She opened her mouth to speak. Changed
her mind and closed it again, then opened and closed again, like a fish trying to breathe.
‘You need to start again, if you want my help.’
‘It’s hard to know where to start.’
‘We are perfectly alone. You can be open and honest with me.’
‘Alright. In recent times, my affairs haven’t quite been in order and it has led me to get in a bit of trouble money-wise. Chrissy can’t afford Champagne any more.’
‘Or Prosecco from what I hear,’ he interjected.
‘Well, yes, and then other things have happened and I...I…need help.’
‘Would this other thing be, that you have been given shall we say, a long death sentence?’
She looked back at him and he saw her eyes begin to fill with tears.
‘How did you know? No one knows. That postman throws his letters into anyone’s postbox, willy nilly! ’
‘No, it was not from a letter, I can assure you. I sense it. Surely you have wondered about me. I know you watch my house and my comings and goings. I aren’t your usual neighbour. I am in fact, an unusual neighbour. Which could be good or bad, according to how you look at it.’
‘Well, I did notice something’s but I didn’t like to pry.’
‘Not prying is good. But I feel now that I see all your cards on the table and you shall now see some of mine.’
A slight shiver ran up Christine’s spine. She felt a little scared, in fact her animal instinct was saying make an excuse, say you have made a mistake, run home, lock the door and hide under the duvet.
‘Norman, I think I should go now. I am getting rather tired and it’s been a long day,’ she shakily said.
‘Nonsense, my dear. You came here for help. I will help you.’ She looked at him with wide eyes and he returned her gaze. He rose from his seat and walked slowly over to her. Their eyes remained fixed on each other. As he sat down beside her, their heads turned towards each other. He put his arm around her. ‘How much do you want to live. Would you give your life, to live?’
Sticky Valves: Book 1 of the Saddleworth Vampire Series Page 6