The Blind Vampire Hunter

by Tim Forder

  It was hours later, and I was still very awake. I didn’t know how Diana might be sleeping through the night, but I knew I could not sleep, but not for the same reason. Diana may or may not have slept with a mind racing with thoughts of her sister, and the finish line being the final rest for her sister in Ohio. On the other hand, I could not sleep because my mind was busy preparing to confront Elizabeth Báthory, Blood Countess and Vampire.

  Early on, I tried listening to my talking book, ironically yet another vampire tale, but I just could not keep my distracted mind on the story. I eventually gave up on listening to the vampire tale. It was just not talking to me. After all, why listen to a vampire tale when you’re living a real life vampire tale. I spent most of the night with the stereo on, but not even Meat Loaf, Madonna, or the Beatles could keep my mind off the early-morning confrontation to come.

  Eventually, it got to be time for the early-morning news, so I turned off the stereo and turned on the TV. I was coming to the realization that I was paying less attention to the news than I had been to my talking book. After all, it was getting close to the time when Isabella would be coming through the front door. It was getting close to the time for our final confrontation! My pulse was racing with fear at the thought of this impending confrontation with a real vampire, and not just any vampire, but the legendary Elizabeth Báthory, herself. I was assuming that Eric was right about her my boarder’s linage.

  You had better get your nervous fear under control, or you’re going to give that Vampire the upper hand, like she doesn’t already have it. Get it under control, or it could ruin your plans to protect your family. I feel as if I’m about to go into the dentist’s office for a root canal.

  Then it happened. I heard a key working the front door lock. It was time. The battle lines were about to be drawn. Sounds as though she’s having trouble with the lock again. I really have to look into fixing that lock soon, if I live long enough. I could be a gentleman and go open the door for her, but for some reason, I just was not feeling very gallant right now.

  As the door opened, I heard footsteps entering the house, and the room temperature dropped. I heard a voice from hell that said, “You are the only one home? Something is wrong?”

  Like you don’t know. I thought, but what I said was, “Diana and the baby are staying at a friend’s.” I made a point of not saying what friend.

  “Why?” the voice from hell asked.

  You know perfectly well why, you bloodthirsty killer. I answered with, “We had a death in the family. We found Chris dead in her bed this morning.” I was fighting hard to keep my cool and to use my best matter-of-fact business voice.

  “Oh, what happened to her? Does anyone know? Who found her?” She was trying to sound sincere, but coming from that hellish mouth, it was not working. She really did not have to sound sincere, as this battlefield only contained two combatants, and this blind vampire hunter knew the truth.

  Maintaining my composure and my business tone, I continued, “Diana tried to wake her sister this morning in preparation for getting her to a doctor appointment. It seems she had a heart problem. Instead, we had to call her doctor to tell him that Chris was not going to make her appointment. When we informed him of Chris’s ... condition, he was not surprised. With results from tests taken just last week in hand, Chris’s doctor had planned to hospitalize Chris. He had planned for additional tests and very possibly surgery.”

  Silence followed.

  Before that skin growling voice could speak again, I continued, “But we know what really killed her, don’t we ... vampire.”

  “Excuse...”

  “No excuse, vampire. Yes, I know who you really are, Elizabeth Báthory, Blood Countess and Vampire. I found your bite marks on the side of Chris’s neck.” With my composure lost, I nearly yelled out, or maybe I did yell out, “You killed Chris! Why? What danger could Chris possibly have been to you that you had to kill her?”

  The skin crawling voice answered, “Since Halloween, she kept calling me by the name you are using for me. She kept calling me ... vampire.”

  “Big deal. She was mentally challenged. Who would have believed her?” I almost screamed for emphasis. I really was losing my composure, Get under control, get under control for your family’s sake.

  “Diana. I feared eventually Diana might listen to her sister and I would have to kill both Chris and my lovely Diana. I could hear Chris’s heart problem, I could hear her heart laboring to function. I figured I could just take a little of her blood, not enough to be noticed, just enough to trigger her heart attack, all while she slept, with no one the wiser. But you, blind man, see more than others see, don’t you? You, blind man, hear what others don’t hear, don’t you?”

  “You mean that I hear your real voice, instead of the beloved voice everyone else hears? You failed to mention how the room temperature changes every time you walk into the room. With you in the room, it feels like being in a graveyard at night.” I continued, “Mind telling me how you pulled it off? How does everyone see and hear some raving beauty instead of seeing and hearing the real you, the monster?”

  “It bothers you that you almost have it all figured out, but not totally.... If I supplied you with an answer to your question, I doubt you’d believe me.”

  “I’m talking to a vampire, not any vampire, but the infamous Elizabeth Báthory, Blood Countess. I’d believe just about anything right now, don’t you think?”

  “In my travels, I spent some time in Greece. While there, I happened to come across a mermaid. Yes, blind man, a real mermaid. You humans can’t see them unless they wish to be seen. Usually a mermaid is only seen when the mermaid or mermaids wish to taunt sailors to their death through the siren song and their magical flawless beauty. Humans who have seen a real mermaid tend not to live long enough to tell the tale. A few have, hence the folklore of mermaids. Since I am a supernatural creature akin to the mermaid, I could see them at will. I could see the mermaids as they really are, not as you humans see them. One night, when I came in contact with one, I gave the mermaid a choice of becoming my next meal or sharing her siren secrets with me. She chose to share her secrets. It seems their magical ability is similar enough to vampire enthrallment that I was able to put it to my use. Afterward, she was an interestingly different dinner. I don’t often enjoy seafood.”

  “She gave you what you wanted, and you killed her anyway?” I asked in astonishment of her pure evil.

  She continued, “Mermaids live in large family schools. It was just luck that I found this one alone. Would you want to live on an island with a large school of mermaids out for revenge? Would you like to live on an island surrounded by murderous mermaids just out to kill off the leak in their magical abilities by killing off the one who forced their magical secrets out of a family member?. No, her death was more for my survival than out of spiteful evil or a rare meal.”

  “So Vampire, are you now going to have to kill me, like you did Chris and that mermaid, to keep me silent?”

  “You tell me. Am I going to have to kill you to keep my secret?” the sound of fingernails racking the blackboard asked. “Seems you have everything figured out, except I don’t see any wooden stakes, and I’m willing to bet that glass of water on the coffee table is just drinking water and not holy water. Maybe you plan to keep talking until the sun comes up and gives me a burning sun tan. Oh, but Diana has the windows properly covered as I have instructed her, not with her knowledge, of course. She believes the window covering is her idea, to keep the baby from being sunburned while in the house.”

  I suddenly got an image from a Hammer Horror film where Van Helsing, confronted with his nemesis, Dracula, dived onto a table, dramatically slid across the polished table, and ripped down the large curtains covering a large set of windows. Dracula, suddenly trapped within the sun’s rays, burned to death in the morning light. I hadn’t thought of the morning light. If I could burn her, would she burn to unrecognizable ashes? Would she burn to a point of remov
ing the evidence of her demise? Who knows? It’s risky, possibly suicidal, but I believe I have a better idea to save my loved ones from this bloodthirsty hell beast. Then again, if I survive ... yeah, right ... but if I do survive this confrontation with the blood countess, maybe I could get her out into the light of the backyard and let the sun burn away the evidence of my vampire hunting.

  “I see that idea had not occurred to you. Just as well. I would have noticed if the curtains had been tampered with and would have treated the situation accordingly. You don’t think I have existed this long without having to outsmart a number of vampire hunters, do you?”

  “How many vampire hunters have you ... on second thought never mind. You really don’t think you’re going to kill a member of my family, and I am not going to do something about it, do you?”

  There was a wash of foul air, and suddenly, I was up off my feet as a machine like grip had me off the floor by my shirt, with a breath that smelled like a graveyard full of death, “And pray tell, what are you going to do to me...” she ended her question with a very mocking ... ‘blind man.’”

  The plan seemed to be working just fine so far. I choked out, “I am going to tell Diana just who you are...”

  Everything suddenly came to a stop at the sound of a knock at the front door, and a voice gently calling out, “Jack, it’s Eric. Are you up? Are you awake my man?”

  The machine-like grip tightened so that even if I wanted to call out, I could not have.

  There was an endless silence from the other side of the door. There were no more shout outs from Eric, no sounds of feet walking away—nothing. Then I heard a key put into the key hole, a key being put to use. I don’t recall hearing this bloodthirsty bitch closing, let alone locking the door. I guess I must have had my attentions too much on the coming battle.

  Then it hit me like a blow to the guts, Oh, God, NO. Please don’t let anyone come through that door. Please God. My mind screamed as a vision of Diana and Eric coming through the door triggering a blood bath, a bloody bath of loved ones.

  Eric or whoever it was with him trying to unlock the door was having problems. I really have to get that lock fixed sometime soon. I almost laughed inside myself. Then all hell did break loose...

  Eric, the intruder into the battlefield, finally got the lock to work, and opened the door with a stage whisper, “Jack, you awa...” He looked into the room and saw Elizabeth Báthory with his best friend waving painfully in the air. Eric yelled out, “Let that man down.” She did.

  I suddenly found myself flying backward until I landed, crashing into the large screen TV and (worse) the TV table. Before I could shift my pain-racked mind back to anything but my screaming back, I heard an audible snap like a chicken being prepared to be dinner, “Eric!” I cried out. That snapping sound just had to be Eric, Eric’s neck, Eric’s death. At least he died quickly, from the lack of a scream or any sound of resistance.

  A laughing voice from hell announced, “Sorry Jack, Eric is a little busy going to Hell right now. Shame to have ruined a perfectly good meal like that, simply snapping his neck like snapping a twig, but the way your adrenaline-laced blood is still pumping I’m sure you will be a pleasant repast.” The voice was getting closer and the falling room temperature let me know that she was moving back toward me.

  “Vampire, go to hell.” It was not very original, but when you’re hearing your death coming for you, what do you want.

  Her laughing voice was hurting my ears, and I painfully heard her respond, “Been there. They threw me back.”

  Suddenly, that mechanically strong grip grabbed me off the floor as my injured back screamed in pain yet again.

  Ignoring my back pain, I taunted, “So, is this were you go back to trying to bore me to death with your hellish peasant twaddle?”

  “Peasant twaddle!” She all by screeched out. “I will remind you that I was once a countess. This was only my birthright as I was born into a family of nobles that even included kings. I have ruled over thousands. I don’t speak peasant waddle. I roar with the nobility of generations.”

  “And now you are the junior manager of a third-rate movie theatre, during their graveyard shift,” I continued to taunt.

  “Enough.”

  It’s about time I pissed her off enough to force her into action.

  With a whiff of the breath of a demon passing my face, I suddenly felt her fangs sink deep into the side of my throat. It felt like my neck was being invaded by a couple of large dull needles. She wasn’t bothering to be gentle. Good, drink deeply, my dear demon.

  It was about time. She fell deeply into my trap.

  As suddenly as she had invaded my neck, her attack ended just as abruptly, with my body flying backwards like the discarded rag doll of a spoiled brat. I hit the TV table again, screaming in back pain as I slumped to the floor. If I survive this, my back will never be the same.

  She screeched out in a tone that was doing more than just threatening to hurt my ears, “What have you done to me?”

  My words were grinning just as lively as I was, back pain, and all, “Going through a change of life, Vampire? Or should a say “a change of death?” Ever heard of a cancer called Melanoma? It’s a nasty skin cancer that, once you get it, can kill you. You see, the cancer cells travel through your system to develop cancerous tumors all throughout your body. Severe Melanoma, like mine, can travel through the blood system....which is what I have.”

  I could hear her starting to strangle.

  I continued, enjoying the sound of her discomfort. “Yes, my dear Blood Countess, you just ingested cancerous melanoma cells into your system.”

  “I have read of this,” she interrupted, choking out, “It takes months or years to develop to such a deadly form.”

  “Yes, my dear Vampire. It takes a long time for melanoma to get so deadly in a human. But you are a Vampire with an extremely fast metabolism. Yes, Countess Elizabeth Báthory, your whole body is now developing cancerous tumors at such a fast pace that you can already feel your blood getting clogged by the cancerous cells traveling throughout your system. So what do you think will kill you first, brain tumors, lung cancer, or possibly blood clots that will stop the flow of your stolen blood, starving you to death?”

  She started gagging...

  Totally enjoying the sounds of her impending death, the gagging sounds gave Jack a thought. “Hmmm, maybe stomach cancer. Had not figured on that one.”

  Her horrid voice croaked out, “My head ... I have not felt ... such a headache since my living years.” She croaked, “You have killed me, blind vampire hunter.”

  Her cold, deathlike hand reached to me, and I could feel lumps on her skeletal hand, lumps that were even now growing, lumps that Jack could feel moving and growing with much haste. Tumors? Then Jack heard the weight of her body hit the wooden living room floor.

  Feeling downright giddy, I began wondering. Dead? How can I tell? I can’t feel for a pulse. Vampires don’t have a pulse. Their circulatory system is too sluggish to feel their stolen blood pulsing through them. I can’t feel for a heartbeat, which raises the question. If vampires don’t have a working heart, how do they circulate their stolen blood? It was Eric who told me that vampires don’t breathe, except to force air through their voice box to talk. Feel her skin? Hell no. Change in room temperature? She most likely would make the room temperature feel the same, dead or undead.

  Dummy, she is not trying to kill you. She must be dead.

  That just was not good enough. Jack felt for her with his shoed foot. Once his foot bumped into what had to be her, he kicked out hard and felt the body move a little, but nothing more. She must be dead.

  The war is over, and the blind vampire hunter is the winner. Now to call and explain all this to the cops.

  Jack got up off the floor with his back still screaming like a banshee. He felt his way over to the dining room phone and punched, 911. An emotionless voice toned, “Police, Fire, or EMS?”

  “Police,” I ans
wered.

  “How can we be of assistance?”

  Jack’s mind went blank.

  “Sir, how can we be of assistance?” the voice asked with more of a tone of urgency.

  Jack discovered, just as he needed to think his mind was going numb on him.

  “Sir...”

  Jack interrupted with, “I want to report a murder.”

  After supplying some basic information such as his address, he quickly tired of playing twenty questions and hung up the phone. He found the closest dining room chair. After positioning the chair properly under his pain racked body, he dropped into the chair to await the arrival of the police.

  Jack got to thinking. I figured that what will follow would clear me of any prison charges. I’ll just explain that my boarder and I were having a heated argument. After all, it was no secret that the two of us never really got along, so the reason for the argument really would not be important. Eric, my best bud from next door, came charging in with the assistance of a key that my wife must have provided him. Oh, my wife is staying next door currently grieving at the loss of her sister who apparently passed away during the night. She had a heart condition, you see. Anyway Eric came charging in and Isabella attacked him. It sounded like she broke his neck. In fact, she bragged about snapping his neck like a chicken being prepared for dinner. How could a little lady like her so easily break a grown man’s neck? Why she’s a master of kung fu. Her boss can verify that for you.

  What happened to Isabella? I don’t know. She screamed in pain about a massive headache and just dropped to the floor. I believe she’s dead, but I’m not a doctor.

  Yes, the coroner will verify that Eric was killed by his neck being broken, very possibly by a kung fu attack. He will also verify that Isabella Báthory died of stage IV melanoma. Most likely he will verify that she died of brain tumors, blood clots, or whatever as a side effect of her melanoma.