The Tome of Bill Series: Books 1-4 (Bill The Vampire, Scary Dead Things, The Mourning Woods, Holier Than Thou)

by Rick Gualtieri

  As he once more came after me, still blinded by rage, I sidestepped and plunged the fork deep into the middle of his back. Samuel was a big guy with heavily muscled arms. Normally that’s a good thing, both for attracting the ladies as well as beating the tar out of flabby shits like me, but it’s a bad thing for being flexible – as in nimble enough to be able to reach around and pull my meager weapon out.

  The fork itself didn’t do much. I mean, I’m sure it stung a little. But using a kitchen utensil against a vampire was a lot like using a penknife against a grizzly bear – unless, that is, it happened to be a special kitchen utensil. Fortunately for me, it was. After a second or two, I could smell it. Another few, and I could see it. And I’m definitely sure Samuel felt it.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Two weeks earlier, I had been sitting at home, sipping on a pint of refrigerated blood and minding my own business. I was relaxing on a Monday night following a long day of coding. I worked as a video game developer. I did it during my life and still did it during my undeath. I liked my job and all, but there was a small part of my mind that liked to remind me that I’m a vampire. Not only that, but I’m a legendary type of vampire who was also the head of his own fucking coven ... and yet I was still a goddamned wage slave.

  I had figured that once I took over Village Coven, it was going to be one big party after another, with maybe an orgy or two in between. But noooo. Sally, my so-called partner, kept a tight rein on the coven’s bank books. I was lucky to score cab fare from her, much less live the life of avaricious abandon I so craved. But we’ll get back to her in a moment, as she definitely had a hand in the situation going on with Samuel.

  So there I was unwinding when Tom came in the door. Both of my roommates, Tom and Ed, were human. Kind of made us a less attractive, but significantly more fucked-up version of Three’s Company. Anyway, he had spent the weekend at his parents’ home in New Jersey (also home to his slightly underage hottie of a sister, which has really nothing to do with the present situation. I just like to mention it). Afterward, he’d gone straight to his job in Manhattan, so I had no idea he’d had anything planned for me. If I had, I probably would have been elsewhere.

  “I’ve got something new we can try,” he excitedly said after tossing his sports jacket into the closet. I didn’t even need to ask what he meant by that. I’d been turned into a vampire some six months prior, and ever since then my roommates had made it their mission in life to chart my powers and weaknesses. It was mostly the weaknesses they seemed to focus on, and thus, in addition to friends, I had to add torturers to the mental description I kept for both of them. Barely a week went by in which they didn’t come up with some new scheme that involved stabbing, burning, or crushing me. My pain had become their hobby.

  Yeah, they both really needed to get laid.

  “What now?” I asked in a bored tone, hoping it might dissuade him.

  “This.” He pulled an old fork out of his pocket.

  “Let me guess, you misunderstood my previous instructions and are now going to fork yourself?”

  “Keep trying, Bill,” he dryly remarked. “In another century or two, you might grow a sense of humor that’s actually funny. For your information, this here is not just a fork. It’s silverware ... you know, as in silver.”

  “So? You guys already tried silver. It didn’t do jack-shit.”

  “Yeah, I know. But forget about that. That shitty letter opener was only silver plated. I didn’t really think it would work anyway.”

  “And yet, it didn’t stop you from stabbing me with it ... repeatedly.”

  “Sorry. All in the name of science,” he continued. “But this is different, trust me. This weekend, my mom had some friends over and she pulled out the good stuff. She inherited it from her grandmother. This is the real deal here. Pure, solid, you-could-melt-it-down-and-shoot-werewolves-with-it silver.”

  “So let me get this straight: you stole your mom’s prized silverware?”

  “Borrowed is more like it,” he replied. “Besides, I don’t see anything wrong with taking a little advance on my inheritance ... especially in the name of research.”

  “You know there’s probably a special room in Hell reserved just for you, right?”

  “As long as it has air conditioning, then I’m cool with it. Now hold still. This might sting a bit.”

  I don’t know why I let him. Maybe I was getting used to it, or maybe I was just tired from the day’s work. Vampires and normal work hours didn’t mesh too well under the best of circumstances. More than likely, though, I just knew he’d get me eventually. Even if I flat out told him “No!” now, he’d probably wait and stab me in the neck the second I stopped paying attention. Thus, whatever the insane reason, I held still as he jammed the damn thing into me.

  “Well?” he asked, the fork sticking out the back of my hand. Small drops of blood started welling up around the tines.

  “Well, it fucking hurts. Pull it out!”

  “Give it a sec.”

  “Now ... OW!” I cried as first smoke and then sparks started shooting out of the small puncture wounds.

  “Holy shit, it worked! I knew it!” he exclaimed, all while watching the skin of my hand start to char and turn black.

  In response, I glared and bared my fangs.

  After a moment or two, he finally got the hint. “Oh, sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile before finally yanking the accursed cutlery out.

  Goddamn, that was painful. The bleeding and burning were bad enough, but it also felt like there was a small legion of coal miners under the skin of my hand, hacking away with dull pickaxes. All in all, a dandy load of fun.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  What had happened to me then was repeating itself within Samuel, albeit in a slightly more central location. As much as I had wanted to punch out Tom’s lights at the time, I had to grudgingly admit that this one might be a keeper. Further (reluctant) testing had shown two other interesting side effects.

  For starters, silver was safe to the touch for me. I could hold and even eat with it. Yeah, that eating part took some convincing by Tom, but he’s nothing if not persistent. Whatever its effect, it apparently only happened when in contact with vampire blood – kind of like dropping a magnesium flare into a pool of water.

  Even better, albeit worse for me at the time, was that something in the silver retarded my enhanced healing. Instead of a few minutes, it took all night for my hand to get back to normal. So it stood to reason that even if Samuel managed to pry loose the fork, which was rapidly turning his back into something akin to a roman candle, it was going to be a while before he felt good about it.

  Blinded by both rage and pain, Samuel more or less lost it. He screamed inarticulately and began spinning around, attempting to get at the source of his torment as his back continued to be engulfed in flames. He plowed into and through another wall, but the fork was stuck fast.

  This was my chance, and I wasn’t about to let it go. I picked up another plank of wood from the rubble, then snapped it in half over my knee, making sure one of the pieces ended in a nice, sharp point. It would make a dandy makeshift stake.

  “Form Blazing Sword, motherfucker!” I shouted as I charged to finish him off. Yeah, I needed to work on my one-liners. Apparently, I still had to work on not being a cocky dickhead either.

  Aflame or not, my dorky catchphrase managed to catch Samuel’s attention. As I closed in, stake held high, he caught me on the chin with an uppercut that sent me flying.

  Time for a Recap

  It’s one thing to be hit – quite another to be caught square on the jaw. It’s like time stops for a few moments. During those seconds, there’s a disconnect between the mind and body. The mind can still be semi-rational, even a little detached. Well, that was certainly a good shot, wasn’t it? Perhaps we should respond in kind, your brain might be thinking.

  Unfortunately, the body won’t be quite as coherent. While the mind is carrying on casual discourse, as if discuss
ing last night’s ball game, the body is flopping about, trying to find a comfy spot on the floor to land.

  Unfortunately for me, I didn’t even have that luxury. When a vampire like Samuel caught you dead center, you went flying. The hit was bad enough, but the old adage about falling applied here, too. Nobody dies from the fall itself, but the landing is a bitch. The same principle applies when you’re hurtling through the air as if you’ve just been shot out of a cannon.

  I had barely enough time to register all of this when I slammed into ... you guessed it ... another wall. The impact was enough to scatter any rational thoughts of the battle I was currently losing and fling me into a nice, comfy little flashback regarding how I had gotten into this mess to begin with.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Things hadn’t been all wine and roses since I had taken over the coven from the previous leader, Jeff, AKA Night Razor. I had defeated him in fair combat, or so the story went. In actuality, another vampire, Sally, had been the one to finish him off. She was the vamp originally responsible for luring me to my own death and subsequent turning to the dark side. However, soon after, she had a change of heart and decided to help me out instead. Following the fight with Jeff, she had even given me credit for the deed, allowing me to take over his position.

  Before you start getting all soppy over this, though, let me point out that Sally’s not exactly the altruistic sort. Everything I’d ever seen her do ultimately seemed to be for her own benefit. So, too, was my becoming coven leader. She quickly established herself as my partner behind the scenes, partner apparently having the same meaning to her as Fidel Castro telling his fellow Cubans they were all comrades. In her mind, she was definitely first amongst equals.

  My troubles from the start were two-fold. Internally, I had to control a bunch of immortal killers in fashion model guise, all of whom were older than me. Originally, I had some delusions of trying to run a bloodless coven. Vampire or not, I wasn’t too big on treating normal people like they were snacks in a vending machine. Sadly, most of my undead brethren, Sally included, were not of the same mindset. I was instead forced to keep the killing contained as well as I could, which meant getting creative. Sadly, even my best efforts couldn’t lessen their bloodlust – which was partially the reason why I found myself in the middle of a vampire turf war.

  The second part of my problem was the HBC. They claimed Queens as their territory, and normally there wouldn’t have been an issue between our two covens. Unfortunately, within a few short weeks of being turned, I found myself number one on their to-kill list.

  See, vampires have laws, too, just like everyone else. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty sure there’s no vampire statute against jaywalking, but there were rules set in place to keep our existence hidden from the general populace. The ruling counsel of vampires, known by the asinine nickname the Draculas, were the ones who handed these dictates down to the unwashed masses. The rest of us were expected to follow them, no questions asked. In the vampire rulebook, there’s no such thing as a misdemeanor. You fuck up, and they make an example out of you. The HBC fucked up, but somehow I got caught up in it all.

  The rumor mill had said that Samuel was recruiting in numbers above the quotas set for regional covens. The vampire in charge of correcting their oversight, James, had decided to disguise the culling and give me credit for it in some misguided attempt to increase my reputation as the Freewill of vampire lore. Unfortunately, before he could do damage control and keep things from landing squarely on my head, he was called away on business. From there, things quickly deteriorated.

  The HBC vampires thought I was the one responsible for killing their members. Combined with my ascension as the new head of Village Coven, bad blood built up quickly between us. Over the next couple months, skirmishes broke out between our two groups. On the one side were vampires who hated me for a crime I didn’t commit. On the other were those eager to find an outlet for the violence I had been trying to curb. All in all, it was an explosive situation.

  If they were the gunpowder, though, then the fuse was named Sally. Since my dealings with the coven were mostly limited to the weekends (due to that little job thing I mentioned earlier), she was left in charge during the week. I had originally assumed this was for the best, as she was older than I and far better versed in vampire politics. However, when you assumed with regards to Sally, you could double that ‘make an ass out of me’ part of the deal.

  It was she who had proposed the mediation between our two covens. A group from Village Coven, led by us, would meet with a delegation of HBC vampires, led by Samuel, to hash out a truce. The meeting place was set at a neutral vampire safe house close to the Brooklyn Navy Yard, which at the very least meant it was an easy commute for me.

  Unbeknownst to me, though, at least up until a short while ago, Sally had purposely staffed our contingent with some of the more violent members amongst our coven. They were just looking for an excuse to do some damage. Combined with Samuel’s group, who were likewise spoiling for a fight, the talks lasted all of four minutes before the first punch was thrown.

  Within the space of a few moments, at least three vampires had been reduced to nothing more than ash. After that, complete chaos descended. I quickly lost track of Sally in the ensuing melee. Then, after I spent a few minutes fighting off random Howard Beach vamps, Samuel caught sight of me.

  “THIS FUCKER’S MINE!!” he had compelled his group. Almost immediately, they all backed off and sought their mayhem elsewhere. Amusingly enough, if I were somewhat older, I probably would have sent out an opposite compulsion toward my group – instructing them to save my ass. But I’m not, and since the vamps that Sally invited from our side weren’t my biggest supporters to begin with, they all had no problem letting the two head honchos battle it out mano a mano. Thus began our dance, which so far had consisted of Samuel bouncing me off various hard surfaces, broken up by the occasional, much less impressive, return shot from me.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Speaking of hard surfaces, I managed to shake off the impact I had just taken and clear my thoughts. I must have only been dazed for a moment or two because I happily noticed my head was still attached to the rest of my body. Lucky me, as I looked up just in time to see Samuel’s still blazing form leap across the room toward my prone self.

  Just for the record, things like that only worked in the movies. Mind you, they still looked pretty damn cool even in real life. From a practical standpoint, though, a jump like that is kind of dumb to try. I mean, I wasn’t exactly a Navy SEAL and even I knew that while in mid-air not only were you obviously telegraphing where you’re headed, but it’s a bit hard to change tactics in case your intended target decided to take countermeasures.

  And I was certainly going to be using said countermeasures, especially since I wasn’t entirely endeared with being crushed beneath two-hundred and seventy pounds of burning vampire love. I managed to pull up my knees and get my legs underneath him as he landed on me. I kicked out and sent him back in the direction he had come from. He may not have flown as far as I had from his hit, but fly he did.

  This was it. No more bullshit. No more one-liners (sadly). I needed to end this if I wanted any chance of living to brag about it. Besides, I could always make up some cool shit after the fact. I mean, it’s not like someone was videotaping this ... hopefully.

  I grabbed another beam from the rubble and started toward where Samuel had fallen. Amazingly, he was getting up again. He wasn’t looking too good, what with being poisoned by silver and on fire, but he still got back to his feet. I just hoped he was out of it enough for us not to repeat ourselves. I wasn’t sure I could take another hit from him without my head popping clean off.

  We stared at each other across about ten feet of space. He staggered but managed to stay upright. He balled his fists defensively, and I raised my stake in return. A heartbeat passed, or it would have if either of us still had one. We locked eyes and prepared for the final charge. I couldn’t help b
ut think there should have been some Ennio Morricone music playing in the background, like in The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, but sadly there’s never a soundtrack when you need one.

  I made my move first. I launched myself at him, and he ... exploded in a cloud of flame and dust? What the fuck? I hadn’t even touched him yet. The least he could have done was waited until after I’d staked him to do that.