Not a single person could answer him.
“Your conversations are laughable, making me shake my head in utter pity.” He looked over to one woman who had a very chiseled, stern face. “I’ve never seen or heard people stress themselves silly over such trivial things--wanting to impress a houseful of strangers with their Christmas parties, worrying whether the tablecloth and napkin rings will match or not, hoping a guest will not be wearing the same dress as they will, or begrudging an invitation to a couple they don’t deem worthy enough of attending. Such conceitedness and arrogance,” he hissed, continuing to glance over the anxious people, settling on a gentleman in his twenties.
“Or you – your guilt simply roils over you…buying your girlfriend several presents to assuage her suspicions of the deception you’ve cleverly played against her…by having an affair with another behind her back.” The vampire mockingly shook his finger at him. “For shame, young man… but I’ve seen that this is a game that many humans play with each other these days. Commitment and dedication is a joke in everyone’s eyes.”
He looked at the palm of his hand, his dead blood congealing on his cold, hard skin. He smeared it across the tabletop. The people grimaced at his actions.
“And sadly, these are same deceptive, superficial behaviors you bestow on your progeny, only to have them grow up and become exact copies of yourselves. Worthless… insubstantial… without merit.” His dead-cold glare became even more deadly as his irises became a dark shade of red--a horrible, stark contrast to his white skin. The people began to scream and run around haphazardly as he jumped up without warning and attacked everyone in the shop.
Outside, if anyone had been around, they would have seen large streaks of red continuously splattering against the large windows of the coffee shop, the terrified faces of the patrons, bags and presents flying everywhere as people trampled over one another to get away, and one lone vampire quickly pulling down the Venetian blinds in order to finish off his ghastly feast of blood in total privacy.
When the melee was over, the vampire exited the shop as if nothing had ever happened, quietly closing the door behind him. He kicked a bloodied teddy bear down the steps. The lower half of his face and neck was a ruddy mess, the lapels of his coat so soaked with his victims’ blood that they looked black.
“Such stupid, insignificant sheep,” he mumbled, walking down the icy sidewalk, gleefully kicking the teddy bear a few more times before landing it on a sewer grate.
He did, however, spare the one boy who answered his question with honesty. As he stared hard into the child’s eyes, he could tell the boy hadn’t been marred by the twisted and paltry mentality of society, and could only hope he’d remain that way. There was also something about the boy’s eyes that sent the slightest of shivers down the vampire’s spine, but he shook it off as he turned his back on him. He still wasn’t quite finished with spreading his own version of Christmas cheer.
~ ~ * ~ ~
The vampire made his way down the street, coming across a church. He could hear a Christmas Eve candlelight service going on inside, harmonious music emanating all around the grounds. He found a back entranceway into the building, sneaking inside. He watched as the priest stood at the front of the congregation, everyone holding a lit candle in their hands as he spoke.
“Blessed be our Heavenly Father. Born to us was His son who would bring the light, love, and joy of His teachings to the world. And blessed be the Heavenly hosts, who would—”
The priest choked and gurgled on his next word, blood draining from his lips and down his robe as the congregation shrieked. All they could see were two grimy, veined, grayish-white arms reaching around the priest, grabbing him, and then a quick flash of a head leaning forward and biting into his neck.
When the vampire got his fill, he dropped the priest with a thud, the crowd still yelling and shrieking, wondering what evil, foul thing had entered their peaceful sanctuary on such a holy night.
The vampire looked out at the panic-stricken crowd that was reacting as badly as how frightened cattle would. He then glanced over at a nativity scene off to the side of the pulpit, slowly staggering his way to it.
He stared at the baby in the manger, his mind suddenly awash in faraway thoughts of a time when things were much simpler, much more enjoyable.
And then he recalled the day when his daughter Josephine was born.
He remembered when he held her tiny body in his hands for the very first time as his wife passed on, making him promise to take good care of her. He recalled himself crying as he kissed his daughter’s forehead in sadness and joy as he held her close. He lost one love, but gained another, and would fulfill his vow to his wife.
He watched Josephine grow, shared every birthday with her, proud of every good grade she got in her classes, watched as she received honors in high school, and as valedictorian, gave the class graduation speech. And then, his pride and joy had been snatched away from him by an arrogant young man while she was in college. She left everything to be with this pompous fool. A career. A good job. A great future.
Even him.
His life was never the same after that. He kept himself estranged from the world and his only child. Was this his reward for her care? Loneliness? Total abandon? Loss?
He threw himself back into the workforce to keep his mind off of things. He befriended no one. His daughter called, wrote, and sent cards every year, but he ignored them all, too busy and too bitter to respond. Then one day, all the calls, letters and cards had stopped. She had finally given up. He realized it one snowy Christmas Eve, when he noticed the absence of a light pink envelope he always got in the mail. He went to his room and opened a drawer, where he kept Josephine’s cards and letters tucked away, all of them unopened. Giving a small noise of despair, he gathered them up, sorting them by year, month, and date. Then, he opened every one of them, starting from the beginning.
The earlier letters were full of joy. Brian, her boyfriend, as well as she, were graduating top honors from college. They were each guaranteed a good job upon getting their degrees. The letters progressed as to how well they were doing, although she was disappointed at her father for not showing up at graduation. Within a year, they had bought a house, and were thinking about starting a family. She also wished he would write back to her or call, wondering why he hadn’t, and hoped he was doing okay.
The letters continued. Their jobs were great, they had a golden retriever now – Josephine’s favorite dog – and she talked about various trips they had taken across the states and even a few getaway vacations. The way she described how beautiful each place was, he felt as if he was right there with her. And for the first time, he cracked just the slightest smile.
And then, the biggest surprise of all. Josephine had found out she was pregnant. His smile faltered. Her job and career were put on hold indefinitely. But Brian continued to be ever-faithful, ever-loving, showering her with the best gifts money could buy, and they continued living in happiness.
She often described how the baby would feel moving around in her, as if excited to see the world. She’d talk about her plans and dreams for the child, wondered what type of life it would live. If it was a girl, she’d name it after her mom, whom she never met – Amelia. And if it were a boy, she’d name it after him, her dad – James.
Tears fell from his eyes after reading this, but he continued on.
Eventually, the baby came. It was a boy, so James he was named. Josephine couldn’t help but express her disappointment in her father’s continued absence in her life, as well as his grandson’s, and he began feeling the pangs of regret and despair. He even noticed a few tearstains on the letters she had written to him. Although everything was described in great detail, and with photos included, he had missed James’ birth, first birthday, first steps, first day to pre-school, second birthday, first time on a tricycle…
He crushed the letter to his chest. He had been such a total fool. Although he despised the man his daught
er was with, he left himself out of her life out of sheer anger. Who was he to tell her how to live her own life? She was free to make her own choices. He may not have liked them all, but it was no reason to estrange himself from her. His only child. And now, she had a family of her own, and he had estranged himself from that as well!
As he kept reading, he also noticed her growing distress in Brian not showing an interest in marrying her yet. It was as if everything had fallen into place but that. And every time, Brian had some sort of excuse. The job was about to call him away to work in another state for a while, or money was a little tight right then for a big wedding… but Josephine didn’t care about a “big” wedding; just a simple “I do” at a Justice of the Peace would have been suffice. So Brian made promise after promise that they’d discuss their wedding plans in detail, but never did.
His anger started to grow again as he kept reading.
Brian’s job kept calling him away more and more frequently, leaving her alone with the baby. Josephine’s mounting anxiety compelled her to hire a private investigator. When Brian was called for a job that required being out-of-state again, the private investigator was on the case. After a month, the investigator returned to Josephine, revealing several photos of Brian with another woman at fancy restaurants late at night, going into the woman’s home and leaving early in the morning, and sometimes her joining him in his hotel room for days at a time. The investigator also managed to get recordings of a few phone calls between the two of them. Either Brian had lied about having a woman in his life already and being a father as well, or the woman knew and simply didn’t care. Either way, they spoke back and forth to each other as if they were man and wife.
And not once did he leave for an out-of-state job that month.
Josephine was devastated, numbed to all feeling. No wonder he had no desire to get married. It would only entail him having to give up alimony – which meant half of everything he owned – and he was not about to do that.
In his eyes, he was playing it smart.
Josephine left a trail of the investigator’s photos all over the house, leaving no place where Brian would miss seeing one. She left a note on the kitchen table saying she didn’t want to see his face when she got back, took their son, and stayed at a motel for a few days. It was during this point in time that she wrote to her father more frequently, asking for advice. After six letters in one week‘s time, she wrote that she couldn’t understand what she did to her father to deserve such coldness from him in return. Little James was five now, still not sure what was going on with Mommy and Daddy, but knew enough to know something was very, very wrong.
That happened in the spring, just before the Easter holiday. There were no more letters, calls, or cards after that.
This was also the same year he didn’t receive a pink envelope. Each one always contained a handmade Christmas card. They were first made by Josephine, and afterward, by her and her grandson. The very last card had a little green handprint smacked in the center, decorated with tiny glitter stickers, snowflakes, ribbons, and cut out little presents stuck to the card with “We Love You! Merry Christmas!” written across the top in Josephine’s beautiful hand script.
That following Christmas Eve, when he noticed his mailbox was devoid of that pink envelope, he sunk into a deep, black, fathomless low that he never thought possible after reading all her past cards and letters. If only he had continued to be in his daughter’s life, maybe she wouldn’t have stayed with that jerk for as long as she did. He’d have set her in the right direction again. Instead, he let her continue to make her own mistakes – as a child should do as they were growing up. After all, how can one learn if not by making a few mistakes first? Such was life. But without her father’s occasional guidance along the way, it looked as if she made one too many, and her world finally came crashing down around her.
Worst of all, he had broken his promise to his wife.
He wasn’t there when she needed a shoulder to lean on. He wasn’t there to catch her when she fell. He blamed himself, but shifted all the blame back to Brian as he was snatched to the here-and-now. He watched as a single tear fell from his eye and onto the baby statue’s face.
Five years had passed since that last card he got from her and his grandson. Five long years. The year he didn’t get a Christmas card was the same year he went to the tavern, washed his woes away in liquor, then was struck by a car and killed, his miserly, wretched life over with – until the day he was reawakened.
He growled and faced the crowd, holding the infant statue by the neck, thrusting out towards the gaping congregation.
“Cursed be those Heavenly hosts!” he started. “For they have not granted me peace, but granted me this living hell, this strange punishment of having to deal with all of you – the blasphemous, the adulterous, the lecherous, the deceitful…the unworthy!”
He put the statue back down and leapt on those closest to the pulpit, tearing them to shreds, as the remaining people flooded out of the church like madmen. He knocked down the candelabras, tore up poinsettias, knocked over the pews, and chucked Bibles everywhere, letting out his frustrations with the world, his undead life and the loss of precious, precious days with his daughter and grandson. The only thing he didn’t destroy was the nativity scene, which held the baby in the manger.
~ ~ * ~ ~
The vampire left when he heard sirens in the distance, but the cops would never find him. They weren’t capable of tracking him down.
Christmas Eve would be coming to an end soon. He figured he had caused enough mayhem to calm his already aged and fraying nerves for another year… although he still hadn’t visited that vile man’s girlfriend. He’d be a most unwelcome surprise at her doorstep, indeed, and he grinned in evil anticipation.
The home he arrived at was very spacious, decorated with the usual Christmas fare, including a few inflatable lawn ornaments. He decided to have a little fun and punctured an elf holding a present. He never liked elves anyway. As it deflated, he noticed a doghouse against the side of the home. Now he knew he had to keep an eye out for an animal as well.
He broke into the house through the kitchen door, his footsteps as silent as the dead. On the refrigerator were a few drawings done by a child. He kept moving through the kitchen, and into the living room, then the dining room, passing by a mantle covered in picture frames. A little boy on a tricycle, the same little boy on his first birthday, then a little older, wearing a soccer uniform with the rest of his teammates. He had a gold medal around his neck. Then one of him and his mother, her long auburn hair flowing to the side and wearing a big smile, her hazel eyes bright, her arms wrapped around her son’s neck. He looked to be about ten years old, with hair color and eyes the same as hers. There was no sign of a male figure in their lives.
The vampire paid no attention to any of the photos as he placed a dirt-encrusted, gray hand on the banister, and began making his way up the staircase to the bedrooms.
He could hear the faint tune of “Silent Night, Holy Night” coming from what looked like the master bedroom. It was very quiet in this home, considering it was Christmas Eve. He expected any kids still to be up and about, smell cookies baking, mugs full of cocoa and marshmallows everywhere, and a tree to be lit in the living room, with decorations plastered everywhere. This home was as dark and as empty as his soul.
The one room, however, was lit with a warm glow. He made his way towards it, and slowly poked his head in.
The woman was facing the bedroom window, looking out as she sat in a rocking chair. This room also had its own fireplace, the flames nearly died out. A small, three-foot tree was in this room, placed on a table beside the fireplace, decorated with lights, tinsel, and decorations. Several small presents were under the tree, mostly all of them for her child.
Another Christmas song came from the CD player in the room, a song the vampire remembered from his own childhood, but never knew the title of. For a moment, he became still, just listening, allo
wing emotions he thought long dead now within him to fill him. Suddenly, he felt sad for this woman, as he could feel her own sorrows emanating from her.
There was a large lump on the floor beside her feet. It lifted its head and growled towards the door. The dog. A golden retriever.
Without warning, she turned, also sensing a presence in the doorway. She gasped, but the vampire didn’t move. The dog growled a little louder.
“Shh. Calm down, Rocky,” she told the dog. Slowly, she got up from her chair, still staring at the shadowed doorway. The vampire took a step back, further ensuring his anonymity. She tilted her head to the side, as if figuring out who it was.
“I can’t believe this! How dare you step foot in here after a whole year of not a word from you! James and I don’t need you! Not now, not ever, so don’t think you can come crawling back here, begging for forgiveness!”
The vampire was taken aback. Her son was named James too?
He fished through his pocket, and held the box in his hands. “Perhaps that’s what he was going to do,” the vampire replied, “with this trinket of deceit.” He tossed it to her, and she caught it.
Now she was looking confused. “What he was…” There was a pause. “What do you mean by that?” She tore off the wrapper, now looking at a velvet black box with gold trim. She opened it.
Inside was an engagement ring. She stared at it for a moment, then snapped the box shut, winging it back at him as hard as she could.
“Way too late for that, buddy,” she snapped. “Unbelievable! Get out!”
“Mom?” came a second voice from in another room.
Vampires Romance to Rippers an Anthology of Tasty Stories Page 18