Dhampir

by J. H. Hutchins

  The first vehicle that showed up would be the last. It was a red pickup truck containing a male driver, a female passenger, and another male in the backseat.

  “Your feet must hurt,” came the voice of the female. The princess looked down at her black polished nails and then back at the passenger. “It’s rainin’,” the passenger smirked. “Get in.” The southern twang in her voice sparked Mallory’s curiosity. Jim had had one, too.

  The princess took the ride. The young, dark man with a bald head sitting beside her was Bali, the athletic driver was Trent, and the charismatic female was Vicky. When Mallory made clear that someone she admired had the same name — Victoria — Vicky corrected her with, "Vi-cky. Not Victoria."

  The first few minutes of the ride couldn't have been more awkward. Vicky and Trent sent smirks at Bali as he dealt with Mallory crying on his lap. Nobody said anything either, so the ride sounded like a bunch of sniffles and sudden, tearful outbursts. Suddenly, Vicky turned around and patted Mallory's leg.

  "Don't worry," she assured her. "We hate The Enterprise, too." Mallory rose her head from Bali's shoulder. Trent nearly crashed the truck laughing at his friend's widened eyes while he stared at the immense amount of tears on his shoulder.

  "Y-You do?"

  "'Course," smiled Vicky. "That's why we came. We'll help you find your friends, too."

  "My friends? How do you know so much about me?"

  "Everybody knows about you, princess," Vicky smirked. "I'll admit — if you weren't wearing that cloak it'd be impossible to find you."

  "Why not?"

  "You're not princess material."

  Trent brushed his long hair and snickered. Vicky slapped him and continued. "In a good way." Mallory set her head down and blushed.

  "Thank you."

  It was getting dark. After nearly an hour of driving, the red truck pulled into a rocky driveway that stretched into a fork containing three, run-down houses on the left, and a barn on the right. Men and women were scattered everywhere — around the driveway, in the large swimming pool, atop the houses and the barn. It looked like they were hosting a party.

  It must be said that one of the streets they had pulled into to find this driveway warned of a "Dead End," but Trent disregarded it and drove through the grass anyway. It led to another, lonely road where the rocky driveway was at the end of an empty cul-de-sac.

  "Didn't your handlers ever tell you to never get in a car with strangers?" Vicky asked the princess.

  "I don't remember," said Mallory. "But they had no reason to. By a certain point in my life, I was never allowed outside."

  "Aww," Vicky mocked. "Gothic Rapunzel wasn't allowed outside. How devastating." The tone Vicky mocked her in was very similar to Mr. Gruff's before he got his shin cracked. Mallory frowned. "I'm kidding," Vicky let her know. "I just want you to be grateful that we like you. Otherwise—" Vicky pounded her fist in her palm.

  Although she was glad it had stopped raining half an hour ago, Mallory felt something wrong as soon as she put on her boots and stepped outside. Her new spectators were scantily-clad, very loud, and filled with snickers and cat-calls. She lost her balance walking on the rocks that made up the compound’s driveway, causing her to trip and fall.

  “Ow!”

  Instead of helping her up, Vicky, Bali, and Trent stood over her and smirked. The other spectators laughed.

  “Give me a hand?” Mallory asked.

  “Nah,” said Vicky. “Bali, get her up.” He turned to Vicky ins disbelief. He didn’t like being treated like Mallory’s “caretaker.” He eventually grabbed the princess above the heart and pulled her up by her tailcoat. She bumped into his chest on the way up.

  “Thank you,” she smiled. He scowled and shook his head before walking toward the houses. Mallory soon learned why he hated being in the spotlight around his comrades. It came in the form of a song:

  Bali and Mallory sitting in a tree,

  K-I-S-S-I-N-G!

  First comes sex,

  What comes next?

  A dead little halfling in a cineplex!

  “I didn’t know what to rhyme with after next!” laughed a sculpted man sitting on the barn. It may not even be wise to point out how “sculpted” he was, as nearly everybody around had amazing bodies — ugly or not.

  “Ha-ha,” Mallory sighed. “Very funny.”

  “It was hilarious,” said Vicky. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

  Vicky took Mallory on a tour of the three houses. Besides the last, smallest house, three words could describe them and the atmosphere as a whole: sex, money, and dirty rap music. The small house was the only one without gang graffiti sprayed over it. The many crossed out symbols signifying the letter “G,” art that showed a snarling wolf’s head, and “BVK,” were only some of the spray painted masterpieces. Mallory was surprised at the detail that went into it. They looked nice.

  “You like anything you see?” Vicky asked the princess after they were done.

  “I like the last house,” she beamed. “It’s tiny for most but spacious for me. I like being in confined areas where nobody can bother you.”

  “You like being in confined areas, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Mallory said, confused. She knew Vicky heard her the first time, so why repeat it?

  “Good,” Vicky smirked. “Then you’ll love where you’ll be sleeping.”

  “Oh . . .” Mallory responded in disappointment. The princess jolted when some water from the pool splashed her. “Anything away from the pool should be fine, thank you. I can’t swim.”

  Vicky grinned.

  “Come on.”

  Past the houses, and closer to the massive forest behind the barn, was a large, fenced-off area that warned: BEWARE OF DOG! However, the threat didn’t seem justified. Although there were numerous canines of the dangerous kind within the fence — pit bulls, rottweilers, and full-on wolves, if you asked Mallory — they all seemed to be minding their own business. All until Mallory felt a shove that jetted her into the fence.

  WOOF! WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!

  The princess turned around and saw Vicky, Trent, and many other hecklers laughing at her.

  “Who did that?” she asked them.

  “You did,” Vicky smiled.

  “Seriously,” the princess asked, backing away from the fence in fear. “That’s not cool. They were quiet before you did that.”

  “Before you did that,” Vicky corrected her.

  “Whatever. . .”

  “Whatever . . .” Vicky mocked her again — this time attempting to use Mallory’s prestigious Avalonian accent.

  “I hope I’m staying far away from these mutts,” Mallory laughed. “We don’t want them digging out and murdering me in my sleep, now do we?” She tried to bump Vicky like she’d seen Malik do to Jett. The response was the complete opposite. Everybody’s laughs stopped. The nerve-wracking energy awakened her nervous tic and caused Mallory to flail her arms above her head. Mallory’s joke fell flatter than roadkill among her hosts.

  “Well, princess,” Vicky smirked. “You’re shit outta luck.”

  “Why’s that!?”

  Vicky pointed inside the fenced area. There was only one unoccupied spot — and it wasn’t a house. Well, it was. A Doghouse.

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “It’s the only place we got. Can’t ya see all the people we gotta accommodate?”

  “I am your guest!”

  “So are they.”

  “Your honorary guest, thank you very much.”

  “They’re just as important as you are, darlin’.”

  “Listen,” Mallory pleaded. “If you know me so well, then you’d know canines and me — just . . . naturally, we don’t mix!”

  “Being racist now, are we princess?”

  “No, it’s not that . . . it’s just.” Mallory gulped as she stared at the continuous barking from her new enemies. “They hate me.”

  “Give it a few hours. They’ll really love you then.” />
  Mallory couldn’t believe it. The intense barking of the gathering canines didn’t help the situation either.

  Are they trying to kill me!?

  “You wanna have a meal before bed?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Mallory told Vicky. The princess knew exactly what to do at a time like this. She planned to stall herself out of sleeping until she could talk her way out of the doghouse.

  Vicky took the princess to the largest house, where the alcohol was heavy and the 808 bass shook the compound. They walked into a kitchen where Vicky pulled out a kiddie chair.

  “This is yours,” said the ringleader. “I had one of the boys pick it up for you when we knew you were visiting.”

  Mallory sighed before taking a seat. She fell over on her first try. Not a single person who saw her failed to at least crack a smile.

  “This must’ve taken a while to find. How long have you known I’d be coming?”

  Vicky ignored the princess and opened the refrigerator.

  “What do you want to drink?” she said, pulling out two types of beer. “Bottled or canned?”

  “I’ll take water, please.”

  “This ain’t Burger King, bitch,” a man snarled from the lone table in the kitchen. A gorgeous woman was sitting on his lap, nibbling on his neck and laughing.

  “I don’t know what that is, so . . . the joke doesn’t mean much.” Mallory began rocking back and forth with her arms between her legs.

  “Could you be any more of a whore?” the gorgeous woman snapped at Mallory. The princess was flabbergasted.

  “Excuse me?”

  “The way you’re sitting makes you look like a slut. You don’t see the way the boys are ogling your breasts?”

  Mallory looked around and did notice them staring at her.

  But is it really because of the way I’m sitting? I’ve been the center of ridicule ever since I stepped foot in this dump. Plus, everybody here is much prettier than I am, so what’s the big deal?

  Mallory straightened her back, set her gloves on her knees, and sat up as straight as she could. The gorgeous woman burst into laughter with the others.

  “We don’t have water,” Vicky interjected.

  “Look!” Mallory pointed. “An unopened water bottle.”

  Vicky grabbed the bottle, untwisted the cap, and poured the entire thing all over the floor. Mallory’s jaw dropped.

  “Have you gone mad!?” Mallory whined. The princess pointed behind Vicky. “There’s a sink right next to you . . .”

  “Shut up,” Vicky glared, holding up the beers. “Bottled or canned?”

  “Canned, I suppose. But I don’t like alcohol.”

  Vicky popped open the bottled beer, took a swig, and then sat it beside Mallory.

  “I said canned.”

  Vicky ignored her to pop open the canned beer and chug it to the chants of her fellow assholes. Afterward, she dropped the can on the floor and went to make Mallory’s meal. While Mallory was too busy being pressured to drink her beer, Vicky took a bowl and filled it with wet dog food.

  “Dinner’s served,” she smiled, handing the bowl to Mallory.

  “This looks disgusting,” Mallory observed. She wafted the air. “It smells gross, too.”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers. I mixed a few Beans in there to fill you up for a few days.”

  “Ava Beans?”

  “Stole ‘em from The Enterprise. Just eat.”

  Mallory didn’t feel comfortable taking off her gloves.

  “Let me guess,” she mocked, “you lost your forks?”

  “Eat it with your face,” Vicky grinned. “Like a dog.”

  Mallory didn’t like how everybody was treating her. They all laughed at Vicky’s joke, and more and more members of this sick party surrounded Mallory to watch her suffer. She poked the dog food with her tongue.

  Bland, but bearable.

  When Mallory began eating her meal she couldn’t stop. Her hunger, plus her desire to get the meal over with, mixed well. After finishing, she even licked the bowl clean. If she collected every spec of Ava Bean correctly then she wouldn’t have to eat for days. It also felt great to hear the chants and cheers. It made her messy face worth it. She chugged the beer to wash down the gruel and gather more cheers, in which she was successful.

  “Amazing,” Mallory lied, holding back her urge to puke. “I can feel the sustenance already.”

  “Oops . . .” Vicky smirked. She waved a baggie full of Ava Beans in her hands. “I forgot to put them in. I guess we’ll try again later.”

  Mallory nearly dropped the bowl and beat the living hell out of Vicky. The only reason she didn’t try was that the place was packed with her friends. She was admittedly jealous Vicky had so many, but she hoped to win some over after they were done treating her like shit.

  “Come on, Mal,” Vicky said, taking off the princess’s tailcoat. “Make yourself at home.” The princess slightly protested, but fell under the pressure of everybody chanting: “Take it off! Take it off!”

  By the time Vicky was done, Mallory had given up her tailcoat, boots, and gloves. She felt naked in only her cropped top and leather jeans. Vicky put her nose in Mallory’s boots and took a whiff. She rolled her eyes in pleasure. She did the same for the princess’s gloves. She shook her head in disbelief.

  “The rumors are true,” Vicky admitted. “Angels smell delicious.”

  “How did you get those Beans again?” Mallory asked. Half of her genuinely wanted to know, and the other half was looking to change the subject. Vicky ignored her to let her friends get their smells. The way they licked their lips and sized her up was discomforting.

  “I’ll be keeping these,” said Vicky. Mallory immediately stood to protest. It was a struggle, but she was successful in rising from the kiddie chair.

  “I object—” Mallory said.

  She was interrupted when her worst nightmares arrived. At least six dogs,

  all being held by a single man, were leashed and curious. Vicky let them take a whiff of Mallory’s belongings, and they became aggressive again — barking in the princess’s direction.

  Uh oh.

  “You want her?” the leash holder chuckled. “You want her?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea!” Mallory yelled over the loud music and muttering partygoers. Suddenly, the leashes were dropped.

  “Then have her!”

  Mallory nearly broke her ankles trying to climb on the counter behind her. She slipped on the same water she got on Vicky about, and then rolled onto the counter — barely avoiding being ripped down and chewed alive. She struggled to stay out of their biting range. The large puddle on the counter didn’t help. It forced her to make a drastic move she’d never thought she’d have to do in public.

  HISSSSSS!

  Mallory donned her Vampiric fangs, sending the dogs scurrying. The partygoers cheered.

  “We got her to show the fangs, boys!”

  Mallory was finished. She slipped her way back to the kiddie chair and picked it up. She threw it at the couple who had bad-mouthed her since she entered the kitchen. They were forced to abandon their seat and fall.

  The princess picked up the bowl she licked clean and smashed it on the kitchen floor. Her rage continued, sending her into the living room, ripping the MacBook playing the blaring music from its cords, and then sending it flying toward the flat-screen television next to Vicki. Everybody dodged the attack, but the silence in the room was anything but fine.

  “I am sick and tired of being treated like your pet!” she hollered. “Now give me my belongings! I’m leaving!”

  Vicky handed Mallory’s things to Trent.

  “Follow me,” she said. “I want to show you something that may change your mind.”

  “Never! I want my things! Don’t make me come over there!”

  Mallory didn’t care about the immense amount of scowls she received.

  “What if I apologize?”

  “An apology? How can you
wash everything with a simple—”

  “I’m sorry,” Vicky admitted. “We’re all sorry. Aren’t we?”

  “I’m sorry,” everybody added, including Bali, Trent, and the nasty couple from the table. Mallory nearly giggled in glee.

  “We like to test the limits of our guests,” Vicky continued. “You can sleep in the barn, or one of the guest houses, if you want.”

  “That’s all I wanted,” Mallory smiled. “I apologize for my behavior, as well. I’d love to take the small house if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Deal. We’ll set you up in a few. Let me show you something first.”

  Mallory followed Vicky, basking in the fact that she had finally won the rowdy group over. When she passed her belongings, the princess said, “Despy, we’re having a talk later.” She was highly disappointed that he let this go on. However, she changed her mind during her walk. Despy was corrupted. He was afraid to start any trouble, as it could release who knows what from the confines of his inner lining. When they came to the rocky driveway, she requested her boots.

  “Pain isn’t real,” Vicky smirked, walking over the rocks barefoot. But Mallory didn’t believe in such truths, so she stood there waiting. She knew her skin was too fragile to cross without bleeding. Suddenly, she was swept off her feet by a strong man. It was Bali. He walked across the rocks without a single flinch. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Thank you,” she smiled. He didn’t look pleased. He dropped her when they hit the soft dirt that led into the barn.

  The barn was massive — filled with hay, pitchforks, and stained blood. It looked more like a gigantic storage unit when you added the random items piled up all along its side.

  “What’s that?” she asked. Mallory pointed to a noose that hung from the center of the structure.

  “The main event,” answered Vicky. She turned to Mallory. “Go home. We don’t want you here anymore.” The princess was confused. Shaken by the number of people that had begun to surround her, she flailed her arms above her head.

  “Very funny,” she said. “I’m shaking in my—” She looked down. “Toes?”