[Anthology] The Paranormal 13- now With a Bonus 14th Novel!

by Dima Zales

“From me...from my lifestyle.” He appeared to be having trouble discussing it.

  I frowned. “I don't understand, because you’re a mechanic? How would that affect me? Or is it because you’re a single father or something, and you didn’t think you could handle raising me alone?”

  “That’s not it at all…I'm just not the fatherly type.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” I laughed, although it lacked any humor. “You’ve always been a good uncle.”

  “It's much harder than you could understand, Alexis. There’s more to it than all that.” Paul sighed heavily and ran a hand across his face, smearing some of the oil around. “I take it Janet didn't explain much, huh?”

  “She didn't really give me much more than 'Paul's your dad!'” It felt wrong lying to Paul about some of the details, but by the way Salem reacted to the idea of even entering the building gave me the feeling that he didn't want Paul knowing he was involved.

  He smirked. “That sounds about right for her. This isn't easy for me to tell you...”

  “What isn't?” I was getting impatient; someone needed to give me a straight answer soon before I went insane!

  “You are going to think I'm crazy, and you are probably going to want to run away.” He stared at me, watching my expression. “But don't. I promise you, there's nothing to run from.”

  “Get on with it, Paul.” I couldn't take any more of these vague answers, between him and Salem, I was getting sick of it.

  “The Waldron family is different from ordinary people.” He was choosing his words carefully. I barely caught that he said 'Waldron' and not 'Hobbs'. “We are...vampire hunters.”

  I burst into laughter, but there was little humor behind what he said and his expression was dead-serious. “Vampire hunters?” I shook my head, about to get up and leave. “I knew it; it's all a joke. You and Salem are both going to get it for this crap. I-”

  “Salem?" His eyes went from gentle to fierce, almost fearful. “Please tell me it isn't Salem Young.”

  I opened my mouth to confirm his assumption, but stopped myself. “You’re the one who set him up to do it, aren’t you? You’re obviously both in on it. Okay…you got me!” I threw my hands up in frustration.

  “Alexis, this is serious,” Paul growled. “Salem Young isn't safe.”

  “He seems perfectly safe, and friendly, to me,” I objected.

  “Alexis, this is not a damned joke. I’m being serious!” I somehow knew by the tone in his voice and the look in his eyes that everything I had been told was indeed true. “Salem…he’s one of them!”

  “One of...them?” I gulped, eyebrows creasing with uncertainty. “Them? As in a ‘vampire’?”

  Paul nodded slowly. “He’s one of the ones that lives around these parts that I haven’t been able to kill yet.”

  “You kill people?” I gasped in horror.

  “They aren't people, Alex. They're monsters!”

  “I don't believe in monsters.”

  “Please, you have to listen to me,” he pleaded, reaching across the table to touch my hand. I pulled away.

  “If all of this is true, and you are who and what you say you are, why did Janet and Desmond pretend for so long, how are they involved?”

  “They don't know the full truth,” he said uncomfortably. “I put you in foster care after your mother passed away, hoping someone would find you and give you a better life than I could ever offer here on my own. But, I insisted they let me be a part of your life. So, I played the role of your uncle. It worked out kind of well for me, because I had already known Mr. and Mrs. Hobbs. I’d gone to school with Desmond. You can't imagine how hard it was, pretending all of this time to be your uncle,” he explained with grief. “I told Janet that by the time you were old enough, I wanted you to know the truth about where you came from. I guess eighteen is old enough to understand in her book. All she knew, though, is that I was your dad, and that your real mom passed away.”

  “Why did it have to wait until now?”

  “I had to protect you from them, if they knew I had a young daughter...” He shook his head. “There's no telling what they might have done to you. It was for the best. But now you're older, stronger, and more able to understand all this. Hell, you might even turn out to be a fine hunter.”

  “I refuse to believe this, Paul! It's not funny anymore.” I didn’t know what to think, my head was spinning with everything Paul and Salem had said.

  I got up from my chair, ignoring his pleading calls and left the room. Tears began to stream down my cheek, from frustration and confusion. Then I looked out the window to see Salem in my car, staring back at me. I walked slowly out of the auto shop and grasped the handle to my door. I was scared to open it, afraid that Paul hadn't been joking...but the welcoming smile on Salem's flawless face made me change my mind. I collapsed onto my seat and glanced over at him cautiously, wiping away the tears from my eyes.

  I thought over everything that I had read in vampire novels—noting the fact that he was out here, in the sunlight, not burning to a crisp. However, he was breathtakingly beautiful, and he did have a pallid complexion, but he seemed harmless—aside from the bizarre episode about his ‘special abilities’ that he went on about. Crazy, perhaps…but harmless.

  Salem opened his mouth to speak, but I put my hand up to stop him as I remembered what Paul had said. “There’s more about you than you let on last night, isn’t there? You’re not just some far-off offspring of a witch, are you?”

  He lowered his eyes. “You are correct, Alexis Waldron.”

  Waldron. “Why didn't you tell me?”

  “I was afraid of how you would react.”

  “But if you are what Paul says you are, and you try to avoid this place, why would you want to bring me here?”

  Salem sighed. “I promised Janet I would.”

  “How’s my mom…Janet…involved in any of this?”

  “She knows my secret,” he spoke quietly. “All thanks to Mark.”

  “Mark? As in her boyfriend?”

  He nodded. “He is one of us as well.”

  “What?! Oh my god, is she in danger?!" I asked, beyond alarmed. Regardless if she was my biological mom or not, I still loved her.

  “Of course she isn’t.” He smiled reassuringly.

  “This is all some sort of trick, right?” My voice was filled with panic as I stared at him with pleading eyes. “Tell me this isn't real. Tell me my mom is at home waiting for me, and that she's secretly planning a surprise party and is just using you guys to distract me.”

  “I wish I could,” Salem replied.

  “I don’t know what to think. This is all impossible,” I said, shaking my head. “Okay, I’ll play along, Mr. Vampire, but I have one question.”

  “Anything.”

  “Why, if Paul is your enemy, are you willing to be around me at all? Aren’t you afraid hunting is in my blood or something? Or that, you know…HE might kill you?”

  “I told you before. I find you intriguing; in more ways than I can even explain right no. And, you haven't been taught in the ways of hunting; therefore, I have nothing to fear from you. As far as Paul goes, I have nothing to worry about.”

  “Nothing to worry about? I have another one for you, then. If you’re a vampire, how are you out here in the sun? Shouldn't you have shriveled up and died by now? Or burst into flame?”

  He grimaced. “This is reality, Alexis, not a story. Everything you have read about vampires—most of it is inaccurate or downright false. We are not beautiful; we don't turn into bats; we don't shrivel up in the sunlight, and we are most definitely not afraid of something as fickle as garlic.”

  “That's not entirely true,” I whispered bashfully, turning to look out the window, hoping he somehow had not heard.

  “What isn't?” he questioned.

  “The beautiful part,” I said, turning back to look at him.

  “You are too kind.” The sound of his laugh extinguished my embarrassment.

&n
bsp; “So, then it is all true?” I paused for a moment. “Are you going to kill me?”

  I really wished I didn’t always blurt out what I was thinking.

  He put his finger on my chin and turned my face toward him. I flinched at his touch, trembling slightly. “I would never hurt you. In fact, I have no interest in hurting anyone else for that matter.”

  “Paul said you’re a monster, and that I shouldn't trust you.”

  “Paul,” he said through gritted teeth, “is the monster. A lot of vampires haven't done anything wrong, not in a very long time. Some of us haven’t at all. The hunters…the ones that kill without feeling or discrimination…they are the monsters!”

  “A long time? So you’re saying you used to be a monster?” I asked.

  “Some of us, yes. Some still are, but I'm not among those. These hunters such as Paul do not understand that many of us are different. They only judge us by what we are, not who we are.”

  I stared into his pale blue eyes, wondering if he was telling the truth. If he really was a vampire, there was no telling over how many years he could have perfected the art of lying. “If your kind is nothing to be afraid of, why do hunters even exist?”

  “I said a lot of us, not all of us. There are some vampires that are still a definite threat to society, and that is why the Waldron lineage exists. Your ancestors are natural-born hunters of our kind. It would overwhelm you to know just how many vampires exist in the world, how many exist in just this little town. That is why hunters exist.”

  I gulped at his words, trying to avoid wondering just how many vampires were roaming around in what I thought to be a peaceful little town. Sure, Willowshire wasn't perfect—we had criminals just as any town did, but thinking that there were undead monsters roaming through the city sounded far more sinister than your everyday crook. “Are your special abilities a part of being...what you are?”

  “No,” he said quietly. “I have always assumed it was something to do with my mother’s heritage.”

  “Your last name is kind of contradictory, too,” I said, speaking my thoughts again. “That is, assuming some parts of those vampire stories are true–and that you have been a vampire for a long time...” I was prepared to ramble, but he stopped me.

  He smirked. “I suppose you are right. However, how do you know that I'm not as young as you are?”

  “The way you talk and dress, your love for classical music and books, and maybe a little that you can’t drive a car.” I laughed.

  “Those are all very valid reasons,” he replied. “Of course, how ancient must you be to love classical music and books as well?”

  “Ha! That has nothing to do with how old I am.”

  We laughed for a couple of minutes, but I stopped abruptly and glanced at him. “Well, then… how old are you?”

  “I was born in 1885,” he replied, bracing himself in assumption that I would freak out.

  “You're 126?” I gaped at him, quickly doing the math in my head.

  “More or less.” He shrugged. “It's hard to keep track after all of this time. After a couple dozen years, they start to blend together.”

  I glanced up toward the auto shop window and saw Paul glaring out at us. I wondered if he could see Salem despite the glare on my windshield.

  “We should probably get out of here...” I muttered and Salem followed my gaze.

  “Let's go to your house,” he said quickly.

  “Why would we go there?” I asked as I pulled out of the parking lot.

  “Don't you want to?”

  “I guess...” I sighed as I turned left onto the road. “Not like there’s anything there for me now, though.”

  “All of your belongings are there.”

  “Yeah. That’s it.”

  “It will make you feel better,” he assured me, but I was certain it would do the opposite. Nevertheless, I agreed to go home...at least temporarily.

  7

  The house was cold, vacant and depressing. I wanted to run to my room, collapse onto my bed and sleep until this nightmare was over. Salem followed me inside, although uninvited, admiring his surroundings as we passed through the kitchen and into the living room. It was incredibly dull and shabby in contrast to his house. I groaned when I smelled the sour milk that had spilled across the dining room floor the prior morning. I quickly gathered the mop and cleaned it up, spraying the area with cleaner to eliminate the wretched smell.

  “You never did explain to me how you afford to live in that mansion of yours,” I commented as I watched him look at my place.

  “It is hardly a mansion, and technically, I did,” he said as he looked at the TV set. “I told you I can make things materialize at will.”

  “So you’re telling me you created a whole house?” I said with sarcasm.

  He laughed lightly. “No, of course I didn’t. The house was abandoned when I arrived here, barely more than a rotting hull. The furniture and touch-ups, however…”

  “How do you do it?”

  He was still fascinated by the TV. I grabbed the remote off of the boring, scratched up brown coffee table.

  “Magic.” He grinned up at me.

  I glared. “I’m serious, tell me how?”

  “I think of something, and it appears. It is really simple.”

  “Anything?”

  “No. I can materialize a wide variety of objects. The smaller they are, the easier it is for me. I definitely could never manage anything as large as a house. And it's not something I am in constant control of.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I only discovered the ability a few years ago, and sometimes it works...other times, not so much.” He laughed somewhat to himself. “Initially, things sort of backfired. For example, if I were to imagine a lamp...it would come out disfigured and broken. I eventually figured it out, though.”

  “And what happened when you first figured out you could do this…magic?”

  “Well, I was...startled, as anyone would be.” He appeared to be deep in thought. “But considering who and what I am, it didn't affect me as much as it may would others, I suppose.”

  I hit the power button on the TV remote and a news report spread across the 32' screen. Salem jumped back.

  “Please tell me you’ve at least seen a TV before.”

  “I'm 126 years-old Alexis, of course I have seen a television.” He shook his head at me. “I just wasn't expecting it to come on.”

  I wasn't paying attention at this point; I was watching the TV intently. The slick-haired man behind the screen was talking about an incident in Denver, Colorado. My heart was beating fast as I stared. I hardly noticed Salem walk up beside me.

  “What is it?” he asked, watching the screen.

  I tuned out his voice and heard only the rough voice of the news reporter.

  “Earlier today at the Denver Zoo, a black bear escaped its holding pens while a zookeeper was placing food in its enclosure,” he spoke quickly, “the woman was found brutally attacked within the bear's exhibit. We are still unsure how the bear escaped.”

  My heart sunk as a picture of a woman was pulled up on the screen—my mom. “No!” I screamed.

  Salem's voice reached my ears again. “Alexis...” It was merely a gentle whisper, right behind my ear.

  “No! Don't you dare to speak to me or touch me!” I shouted, pushing him away. “Mark did this! I know it!”

  He looked taken aback by my assumption. “You think Mark did this?” He frowned. “We aren't like that, Alexis. There is no evidence that he had any involvement. The reporter clearly said that it was a bear attack.”

  “That doesn't make him innocent! It could all be some sort of cover up!”

  “You are just upset because he took her from you.”

  “That has nothing to do with it!” Or did it? It was more Paul's fault than Mark’s wasn't it? I fell back on the sofa. “Did it say...did it say if she was still alive?”

  “I didn't hear anything about her dying.”
He sat beside me on the faux leather couch. “I assure you; it has nothing to do with Mark.”

  “I won't believe it until I hear it from mom–Janet, I mean.” Not calling her mom was going to take a while to get used to.

  “Why don't you call her?” he suggested.

  “Right.” I nodded, relaxing just a little as I stood up and got the cordless phone from the kitchen. So much for crude accusations the first time I called her after she left. I dialed her cell phone number. It rang once. Twice. Three times.

  “Hello?” A deep male voice answered.

  “Is Janet there?” I said.

  “She can’t come to the phone right now. Who is this?”

  “This is her daughter,” I said, ignoring the fact that I wasn't really her daughter anymore…or never was, I supposed. “Please, just put her on the phone.”

  “She's a little out of it right now, but I'll see if she is able.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Silence followed, and then muffled voices in the background.

  “Alexis?” Her voice was different, scared, weak. “I was about to have Mark call you.”

  “How are you?” I felt relieved to hear her voice, but something about the way she spoke made me uneasy.

  “I have been better.” I heard her laugh, which was cut through with a hoarse cough and groan. “Happy birthday, sweetie.”

  “Thanks, Mom...” I muttered. “Tell me what happened.”

  I heard the muffled voice of Mark in the background, but I couldn't decipher what he was saying. “I was feeding the brown bears, when one of them must have gotten loose-”

  I broke her off suddenly. “The person on the news said black bears.”

  “Right...” she trailed off. “Black bears. My mind is a bit hazy right now.”

  “Did Mark do something to you?” I blurted out anxiously.

  “Of course not!” Her voice sounded unconvincing, almost as anxious as my own. “He's right here with me in the hospital, making sure I'm taken care of.”

  “How badly were you hurt, are you going to be okay?”

  “It's not as bad as the TV might make it sound. It's just a few scratches really.”