"Hello? We got a call about an intruder?"
More silence. I did a quick check of the downstairs. The place was pretty nice. For a college house that had endured decades of abuse at the hands of students who didn’t know or care about keeping the place looking nice.
There was a kitchen, a dining room, and a little living area. The sort of place where someone might raise a family after the war back when Gladys was relatively new on the job and the campus wasn't nearly as big.
This whole neighborhood had been taken over by student housing in the years since, but I could imagine a time when a bunch of guys coming home from the war ready to go to school and fuck would buy these houses and start their families.
It felt impossibly small and cramped. I couldn't imagine trying to raise kids in something this small, but they'd done it.
Then again I couldn't imagine going off to fight in the kind of wars they'd fought back then. Sure the shit I saw was pretty bad, but it was nothing compared to some of the shit in the history books.
I shook my head. I was getting distracted. Distraction wasn't good. I needed to focus. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something very bad happening here.
“Ma’am? Are you in here?"
No answer. There were no signs that anyone had been in here tonight. No signs of forced entry at any of the windows, and definitely no signs that the owner had been out and about in her house.
I moved to the stairs. They were solid wood and they creaked as I moved up. I winced each time I took a step. That would announce I was coming to anyone paying attention.
Anyone paying attention to that sort of thing couldn’t be good news for me.
My hand moved to my gun again and this time I kept it there. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was going to need it, and soon.
6
Bump in the Night
I got to the top of the stairs and found myself in a small hallway that smelled like a mixture of beer, puke, perfume, and more cheap cologne than was healthy for someone to inhale. All those wonderful smells were buried under whatever industrial cleaners had been used in a vain attempt to try and get rid of all those smells over the years.
So basically it smelled about the same as every other college apartment that had been around for more than five years.
There was a bathroom right in front of me and bedrooms to either side. There was also a small wood railing that looked down over the living area, but the thing was so old that it looked like a sneeze would knock it apart.
I shook my head. That was an accident waiting to happen at some drunken party. I’d destroyed way sturdier equipment back in my day with only a few beers in me, and with the way the kids these days sucked down booze to hold off the existential dread of graduating with ridiculous student loans and no job prospects I figured it was a minor miracle the railing was still in place.
Keeping my right hand on my gun I flipped a light switch on for the upper level, I was more interested in seeing where I was going than looking dramatic as I walked through a dark apartment with my gun held over a flashlight, and moved into the bedroom to my left.
Sure I could’ve picked either one but this one was the closest. I was nothing if not practical in these situations. Lazy too. Lazy and practical. Lazy could be practical.
When I stepped in I breathed a small sigh of relief and pulled my hand off of my gun. I felt like an idiot jumping at shadows.
"Ma'am, you really gave me a scare," I said.
Odd. The rational part of my mind was actually right on this one and the gut feeling had been wrong.
The girl was curled up on her bed. She faced away from me, but I was pretty sure it had just gotten a little too drunk out tonight and she’d passed out after making her freaked out phone call.
She was still in whatever clothes she’d worn out partying tonight. The uniform of college girls across the nation. A skimpy top and shorts so short I could almost see the kind of view that was typically reserved for a gynecologist.
Almost, but not quite. Besides, passed out girls had never been my thing. Beating the shit out of someone who was into passed out girls was one of several reasons why I’d left college for a job at an organization where beating up bad guys was a perk of the job rather than something that was frowned upon.
Seeing the girl was a relief. Sure there'd be some paperwork to take care of after this, especially considering I broke down her door, but it wouldn't be nearly as bad as it would've been if this really was a home invasion.
I walked over, making sure to clear the room out of habit more than anything, and put a hand on her shoulder. Shook her.
Now that I knew she was okay the relief was starting to be replaced with anger. After all, I’d hurt my shoulder to get in here, and all because of some girl freaking out over nothing and passing out.
So pretty much another typical day on the job. Where the day was the evening and the job was another night of babysitting drunk college kids.
Better than finding dead college kids, I guess. It had been really touch and go there for a few.
"Ma'am, you need to wake up," I said.
She rolled over.
I screamed like a little girl.
I wasn’t ashamed to scream either. Sure I’d seen some shit overseas. I’d seen a friend’s face get turned into a fine pink mist right next to me, but that was in the middle of combat and it was sort of expected even if it did suck.
What I saw lying on that bed? That was completely unexpected and it completely freaked me the fuck out.
No, nothing I’d seen in my time overseas could have prepared me for this. The girl was completely drained. She looked like a husk of a woman. Like a juice box that had been sucked dry.
Okay, maybe not the most appropriate comparison, but give me a break. I was the father of a young kid. My whole world outside of babysitting drunk college kids who drank too much booze was babysitting a little girl who drank too much juice.
Basically the same thing, really, but at different times of day.
It was pretty obvious the girl was done for. Gone. Pining for the fjords. There was no walking off that injury.
Somehow she'd been completely drained of all her blood and yet not a drop of that blood had gotten on the sheets around her. Another impossibility, but what was one more impossible thing in the middle of a night of impossible things?
That unsettled feeling that something was very wrong was back now with a vengeance. I should’ve listened to my gut feeling. My gut was always right about this sort of thing and I ignored it at my own peril.
The last time I ignored it I’d been in the port-a-john when mortars came a-calling. It was a testament of how much I’d lost my edge that I wasn’t remembering the embarrassing lesson of running through base with explosives landing all around me, pants around my ankles, and paper towel stuck to my boots.
That was the sort of lesson a smart man never forgot.
I leaned in closer looking for any sign of how this could have happened. If the blood wasn’t in her body then it stood to reason it would be somewhere else nearby. Otherwise…
Best not to think about otherwise.
I was used to seeing blood when I saw a dead body, but there was none here. Not on the floor. Not soaking the sheets. No blood at all.
Then my eyes came to rest on her neck. A chill ran through me.
Two small red points on her neck. A small trickle of blood dried in place.
That was impossible. That didn't happen. Couldn’t be real. What I saw was something straight out of an old horror movie back before they had the makeup budget or the societal stomach to do really gory shit.
There had to be another explanation. My mind grasped for those explanations even as my gut told me this was exactly what the fuck it looked like and I’d better invest in garlic and stakes as soon as fucking possible.
But my rational mind wasn’t listening. The rational part of my brain was still screaming that it couldn’t be vampires. That this
girl had been involved in some sort of kink and it had gone too far.
It had to be some sort of kinky shit gone wrong. Someone who was into blood stuff. I’d heard about that, though I’d never understood it. And now it had cost this girl her life.
Yeah, that was it. That made sense. That didn’t involve creatures of the night stepping out of legend and sucking some poor college girl dry.
I had to keep thinking that, because the alternative, the idea that there was actually a bloodsucking monster somewhere out there that might have drained her of her blood, was too crazy to consider.
They’d cart me off to the nuthouse if I put that in an official report.
I hated paperwork with a deep and abiding passion. I hated paperwork that could potentially have me institutionalized even more.
I’d seen it over there. Guys who snapped. Ended their service with a one way trip to the loony bin. Like that guy from MASH, but no one was laughing.
I wondered if it was finally happening to me. If I’d come home only to have it get to me now.
I shook my head and chased away those unpleasant thoughts. I was Blake fucking Byron. Former special forces. Current campus cop.
No, I was not losing it. I saw what I saw. It was impossible, but those puncture wounds were right there so it had to be pretty fucking possible didn’t it?
That was how I viewed the world. Something might seem like it was impossible, but if the world threw it at you then you sure as fuck better get used to the impossible becoming possible before it fucked you over.
Like it had fucked over this poor desiccated husk of what had probably been a hot college girl walking campus in her yoga pants looking forward to partying and living her life just a few hours ago.
I was no stranger to death, but it was always death where it was expected. In a hospital room where someone was dying of a terminal disease. In the middle of a firefight when bullets were flying and anyone could die at any moment.
Yeah, I’d seen death where it was expected, but I didn’t like it where it was unexpected. Those marks on her neck were definitely unexpected. It was one hell of a mood shift after the relief of thinking the girl was okay.
This wasn’t like drunk kids who got alcohol poisoning and needed their stomachs pumped. No amount of medical attention was going to save her.
Hell, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe they’d need a priest and a stake over her grave. This seemed like the kind of situation that needed less in the way of medical attention and more in the way of holy water.
I frowned. This meant I was going to have to radio in a death. And I knew that meant there were a couple of parents who were going to get the most horrible call a parent could get tonight.
Not to mention all the paperwork I was going to get stuck with.
I tried to imagine what it would feel like to get that same call for my own little girl and couldn't even think about it. I couldn't imagine a world without her. Without my wife.
My fist clenched thinking about it. Thinking about the terror I would rain down on anyone who dared to harm them. There might be things that went bump in the night, but they would learn they were far from the scariest thing in this world if they ever fucked with me.
I unclenched my fist. It’s not like that was likely to happen. Whatever had taken out this girl was obviously long gone and it was left to me to be a cog in the bureaucratic machine calling it in and going on with my life.
With a little luck and enough time I might even be able to convince myself I was jumping at shadows. That the whole vampire thing was my mind making things up.
Because the alternative… I needed to ease up on those thoughts. I was gripping my gun and I didn't want to do something stupid like Johnson who got a paid vacation for being stupid enough to shoot himself in the leg during a classroom demonstration.
I was about to radio it in when something moved behind me. I wasn't sure how I could tell there was movement back there, just that I knew. There was something back there that shouldn't be.
My sixth sense, the one that always went off when shit was about to go down, tingled as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
Yeah, my gut feeling was going crazy.
I whirled around and this time I managed to hold back the urge to wail like a scared little girl.
I guess I’d been wrong about whatever killed this girl being long gone. It was right there, and there was no denying he hadn’t been there a moment ago.
Odd. He didn’t look like a monster. No, the guy looked about the same as every other college kid on campus, but there was something about the way he held himself that was off. Wrong. There was a confidence there that was nothing like your typical college kid.
I was immediately on guard. I mean I’d already been on guard, but old instincts were coming back. Fight or flight was kicking in and my body was choosing fight.
I figured I’d found my home invader. Or maybe my vampire. I really hoped it was just a home invader though, because I was fresh out of garlic and holy water.
Then again I figured an ass kicking was an ass kicking, and I was in the mood to deliver a good ass kicking whether this asshole was undead or alive.
7
Bumping Back
Who the hell are you and what did you do to this girl?" I asked.
I was proud there wasn't a tremor to my voice. There was something deeply unsettling about the way this guy had appeared behind me, and no amount of bravado could change that.
I’d cleared the room before I went in to check on the girl, but I supposed it was entirely possible I’d missed something. After all, I’d been so relieved to see her that I’d rushed in.
Still, I would have bet good money this guy hadn't been standing there just a minute ago. And I didn't like someone appearing as though by magic.
That lent weight to the crazy vampire theory, and I wasn’t too happy about the mounting evidence for that theory even if I was willing to accept it.
"I am no concern of yours," the guy said.
There was something odd about his voice that had the hairs on the back of my neck prickling. That seemed to be happening a lot tonight, and I didn’t like it.
The guy sounded quietly confident. Like he was sure he could take me. I wasn’t used to scrawny guys looking at me like they could take me. Not to toot my own horn, but I was a big guy and under normal circumstances I could break guys like this skinny dude in half.
Though to the guy’s credit there was nothing normal about current circumstances. That was no excuse to let the guy go free though.
"Like hell you’re no concern of mine," I said. "I find you at a murder scene and you think I'm going to let that go? You’re coming in for some questions buddy.”
I reached for my cuffs, but stopped. There was something about the way that guy stared at me that made me think the guy didn't have any sort of plans to go quietly.
"I'm going to let you leave now," the guy said. "You can say this was a home invasion gone wrong or whatever you need to do to keep your job, but you need to allow me to finish here or bad things will happen."
"Allow you to finish? What sort of sick shit are you doing?" I asked.
This time my hand didn't just go to my gun. I drew it. Pointed it at the guy. Only the freaky asshole didn't react like people usually did when they had a gun pointed at them.
I’d seen a variety of reactions from people when they had a weapon pointed at them. Getting down on their knees and begging for their lives. Getting angry and reaching for their own weapon. Looking down the barrel and going cross eyed while they pissed themselves.
Yeah, I’d seen all sorts of reactions to people having a gun pointed at them, but never had I seen someone look down the barrel of a gun, smile, and wave dismissively.
"Go ahead," the guy said. "Shoot me if you must, but it won't do you any good and I will have to kill you.”
His smile grew even wider. Even more unpleasant.
"I can assure you it will do you abo
ut as much good as it did the young lady."
I glanced over and realized there was something else I’d missed when I rushed into the room. A gun on the nightstand. I really was getting sloppy if I’d missed something like that.
The guy had to be bullshitting me. The girl didn’t get a chance to fire it off before the guy did whatever it was he did to her. That had to be it.
I knew that wasn’t it.
I turned back to the guy and noticed something about him for the first time. I was noticing a lot of important things just a little too late tonight. Like my brain was so busy trying to deny what was really happening here that it was missing all the evidence screaming at me that yeah, this was fucking happening whether I liked it or not.
I was looking at another thing that should have been impossible if I wasn't seeing the evidence with my own two eyes.
There were holes in his clothes. Holes roughly the size of bullets. Holes that didn’t have the usual blood trickling out of them.
Not to mention a few hits center of mass like that would’ve turned the guy’s backside into a sucking wound that he wouldn’t be getting up from. He certainly shouldn’t be able to hold a fucking conversation.
Huh. That was new.
It was only years of training that kept my hands from shaking. I’d seen so many crazy things over the years that seeing something else that should be impossible, something that could only have a supernatural explanation, wasn't all that difficult to accept.
After all, it was happening right in front of me. If I was seeing it with my own two eyes then it had to be real. No amount of my rational mind whimpering that this shouldn't be possible was going to change that fact.
It also didn’t change the fact that I had a job to do. As much as that whimpering rational mind was telling me this was way beyond my pay grade I knew I had to try and take this guy in.
Blake Byron: Paranormal Investigator Page 4