by Billy Wells
Mike stood aghast in disbelief, dumbfounded by the grisly sight before him. What on earth had attacked George’s cat with such ferocity? It must have been a monster rat or some other larger animal. The mangled, half eaten remains, and particularly the black, empty eye sockets, filled his senses with fear and horror so severe, he bounded up the stairs two at a time. Reaching the landing, he quickly slammed the door and struggled to catch his breath. Moments later, he ran to the bathroom and vomited up everything he’d eaten for breakfast.
Scary things affected Mike much more than the average person. He never watched any movies or television shows in the horror genre. During his first year of marriage, he’d experienced terrifying nightmares of ghosts and goblins. He had to take a medley of anti-depressants to control violent seizures that threw him into a frenzy without warning. After being institutionalized for six months with a rare chemical imbalance, the malady had disappeared as mysteriously as it had arrived. The nightmares had cost him his first marriage, and the thought of those dreadful feelings returning scared him. Debbie knew some of what had happened to him before they had met, but there was so much more he hoped she would never know.
After his breathing returned to normal, he looked around the dark shadows of the basement and agreed with what Amber had said at breakfast, the basement was very creepy, particularly with an unidentified varmint lurking in the shadows.
He called George, giving him the bad news and a heartfelt apology for such an unexpected outcome. George immediately rushed over.
Mike answered the front door, and together they descended the basement stairs with wary apprehension.
Upon seeing Shaharazod mutilated beyond recognition except for the orange fur, George began to sob uncontrollably. Placing his arm around his shoulder, Mike led him upstairs, and offered to bury his pet for him if he wanted him to. George nodded his approval.
That afternoon, Mike shoveled up the remains of Shaharazod in the basement and buried her in George’s back yard under an elm tree. He was relieved that the debilitating terror he’d experienced earlier had not resurfaced.
Both families attended a brief ceremony and said a few words to commemorate the pet’s passing. George’s little girl said Shaharazod had gone to pussycat heaven, and Debbie placed a small headstone of slate on the ground to mark the gravesite. After a time, the group disbanded and returned to their houses.
The next day, Mike planted five large rattraps with cubes of cheese as bait around the perimeter of the 600 square foot space. After placing the traps, he didn’t waste any time returning upstairs.
At 4 a.m., Mike, unable to sleep, thought he heard the front door, and then the basement door open. He listened in the darkness. Debbie was snoring softly. He tensed when he heard the sound of someone creeping up the stairs to the bedroom level.
Mike eased from the bed, tiptoed to the doorway of the master bedroom, and peered into the hallway. He saw the outline of a dark figure reach the landing, pause, and then disappear into Amber’s room.
“Amber? Is that you?” he whispered.
After a pause, Amber replied, “Yes, Dad. I was thirsty and went to the kitchen for a glass of water.”
“I thought I heard the front door, and then the basement door open.”
“It must have been something else you heard. I didn’t open either door. I just got a glass of water.”
“OK, back to bed. 7:30 comes early on a school day.”
Mike waited in the hallway until he finally heard heavy breathing from Amber’s room. He crept silently down the stairs and stood in the shadows of the living room.
He listened. Nothing.
Checking the front door, he found it locked, and proceeded to the basement door and eased it open. Peering into the blackness below, he listened intently for movement. The hairs on his neck stood on end when he heard a strange creak from below. It sounded like the opening or closing of a door that needed lubrication. He stood motionless for another fifteen minutes and couldn’t think of a door in the basement that could have made such a sound. Was it the small utility window at the ground level? Finally, he closed the door and returned to bed.
He lay there listening to the night sounds of the house and wondered why Amber had lied about opening the doors.
The following day after the kids had left for school, Mike told Debbie about the incident with Amber the previous night.
“Did you ever consider that your imagination might be playing tricks with your mind? I know you’re still upset by the death of George’s cat, but are you positive you heard the doors open?” Debbie asked.
“I’m sure. And yes, I am upset about George’s cat. You didn’t see what I shoveled into the trash bag. I can’t imagine what kind of animal could have caused such severe injuries. Shaharazod was a huge cat.” He paused, staring at the skeptical look on Debbie’s face and continued, “And where is the beast now? It would take a helluva mouse hole for something that big to crawl through.”
She looked at him with the same expression she’d had several days before, “Should we be calling Fox Mulder in to investigate? Do we have a ghost or a monster in our basement on Loving Forest Court? Are you having nightmares again?” Debbie instantly regretted what she had said, but couldn’t take the words back as images of the dreaded past returned for both of them.
“I don’t have nightmares anymore.” Mike said meekly.
She looked deep into his eyes as if to read his inner thoughts. “If you have any suspicion that your nightmares are beginning again, please see the doctor about putting you back on your medication immediately. You know how critical it is for all of us.” She lovingly caressed his hand.
Mike’s face reddened, and then he smiled reassuringly and held her close. “I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’m just upset about Shaharazod. I promise you I’m not having any symptoms of my old phobia.” He hoped he was being truthful for all their sakes.
After Debbie left for work, Mike decided to take a look at Amber’s room to see if something there would provide a reason for her to lie.
When he entered her room, the recent changes to the décor stunned him. A huge poster of a Vampire Club character adorned every wall. Intermingled with these poses of bare-chested creatures with fangs protruding from their lips were several Twilight posters from the New Moon and Eclipse movies.
Looking around, he saw two novels by Anne Rice on her desk and a dog-eared copy of Bram Stoker’s Dracula on her bed. Totally bewildered by the sudden fascination with vampires, he couldn’t understand what on earth had happened to his fourteen year old daughter since he had visited her room only a few weeks before.
He left Amber’s room and walked down the hall to Kyle’s room. When he opened the door, the raven-haired vampire that hung on the wall in front of his son’s bed startled him. He found two fake vampire fangs on the dresser and a bottle of vampire blood on the end table with two DVD’s of the Twilight movies.
He wondered what Debbie would say about this.
That night the family held a meeting in Amber’s room.
“Can you explain this?” Mike said pointing to the posters.
“I am a member of the Vampire Club, and like many of my friends at school, the characters and stories in the Twilight books and movies fascinate me,” Amber explained.
“What’s wrong with Justin Beiber or Timberlake or whoever girls of your age idolize?” Why vampires?” Mike questioned.
“Please, Dad. I’m really into vampires. You know Kyle and me have always loved horror movies. I don’t care about those lame baby faced teen idols. They bore me.”
Debbie looked at Mike exasperated, “I don’t see why you’re so uptight about posters. Every teenager has posters on their walls, and some are much worse than these.” Amber nodded her head in agreement.
“You should see what Todd and Mark have on their walls,” Kyle piped in. “They have nude girls with their throats torn out in a bathtub full of blood.”
“Jesus!” Mike replied shaking
his head. “And their parents allow it?”
Debbie grabbed Mike by the arm and escorted him from the room. Kyle and Amber looked at them as if they were aliens from another planet as they disappeared into the master bedroom. They heard their parents arguing for a time, and then they heard the sound of the TV in the living room.
The next day Mike took a baseball bat he kept under his bed with him to the basement and inspected the traps, which were free of dead rats. The cheese in all five traps appeared to be untouched.
Looking through the yellow pages for an exterminator, he arranged for a service call for the next afternoon.
He hadn’t seen George since the burial ceremony, so he went over and rang the doorbell. After a time, George answered.
George stood in a daze looking at Mike.
“Are you OK?” Mike asked with concern.
“I’m not sleeping well. I can’t get over what happened to Shaharazod.”
“How are Trish and JJ?
“They’re fine. Why do you ask?”
Mike told him about the Vampire Club, and George pointed to the room at the end of the hall on the first floor. They proceeded to it.
Even before he reached the doorway, Mike saw a huge poster of a beautiful, scantily clad vampire lying on a white bearskin rug.
“How old is JJ?” he asked.
“He’ll be fifteen next month,” George said sleepily, popping a pill into his mouth. “I had playmates on my wall when I was sixteen, but teenagers are much more mature now. Look at the movies they go to see.”
Mike noticed a red splotch on the right side of George’s light blue turtleneck. “Is that blood on your neck?”
Staring blankly at the wall, he replied, “I cut myself shaving this morning.”
“Where’s Madeleine?” Mike asked, looking about the house inquisitively.
“She’s visiting her mother in Pittsburgh.”
Mike returned to the front door. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“As good as can be expected. I feel like a zombie from the sleeping pills I’ve been taking.”
“I’ll check on you later. Maybe you should see a doctor. You don’t look so good.” Mike walked outside and headed for his house.
On the way, he saw Larry, his next-door neighbor on the other side of the street, pulling weeds and stopped to say hello. After some small talk, Mike mentioned he might have rats or some other varmint in his basement.”
Larry had obviously imbibed on one too many martinis and spoke like he had a mouthful of marbles, “No, I dunno anything about any rats.”
In the kitchen window, Mike saw Larry’s teenage daughter peering down at him. She looked as if she was going to a Halloween party. Her eyes were circled with heavy, black makeup, which made them look more sunken. Her face was as pale as a corpse, and she was wearing a black, low cut dress. He waved to be friendly. She reciprocated with a smile and also flaunted a fistful of black fingernails. He did a double take when he saw the protruding canines and her blood red tongue. He tried to salvage the moment with a lame gesture of understanding, but he knew that she knew her appearance had rattled him.
Turning away, he continued his conversation with Larry, “How old is Elisha?”
“She’s thirteen going on thirty, and lately she’s been bitten by the vampire craze.”
“I’ll say. It seems like every teen in the neighborhood is obsessed. The sun was fading on the horizon, so Mike left Larry to pull more weeds.
An eerie feeling crept over him as he returned to his house. Closing the front door, he peered down the familiar, suburban street.
The wind stirred in the trees as the sun disappeared, and the streetlights came on. In the shadows of the branches that hung over the sidewalks, Mike saw several indistinct figures advancing from the end of the street. As they grew closer, he noticed several more join them from the adjacent houses. All of them wore black. The males had long flowing capes draped about them, and the females wore ankle length black lace gowns. All were pale with dark makeup around the eyes just like Larry’s daughter.
Mike moved into the shadows of some shrubbery. He watched his daughter walk from the opposite side of the house and join the others on the corner under the streetlight. He noticed Elisha among them, as well.
In a few minutes, a black van embellished with scarlet lettering, which read “THE VAMPIRE CLUB” and a shocking vampire face with blood dripping from his lips pulled up. Eleven teens piled into the van, and after a slight pause, it drove away.
Mike rushed back to his house, hopped into his Volvo, and began tailing the van.
In no time, the black vehicle with the vampire face arrived at its destination, which was the high school football field.
Spotlights illuminated a small stage located between the goal posts at one end of the field. Several hundred teens, all dressed in the same vampire garb as those in the van, had already arrived. A melancholy dirge set the mood for the event from loudspeakers positioned on tripods beyond the rectangular platform.
From the left, six pallbearers carried a black coffin to the stage. Three large monitors, suspended from the goal post, came to life. Clips from old and new vampire movies flashed on three screens.
As the event progressed, the monitors began broadcasting live feeds of the teens in attendance. Parked in the shadows across the field, Mike couldn’t believe his eyes as he watched the affair through his binoculars. The frenzied crowd responded to each ominous image and sound.
When scenes from the Twilight movies came on the screen, the crowd exploded with approval.
The fright fest continued with one ghastly clip after another until a drum roll quieted the crowd. This signaled the beginning of the main event.
From out of nowhere, three large wolf-like animals bounded upon the stage. The three vampire cameramen zoomed in so that everyone in the crowd could see the beasts with graphic clarity on the monitors. All three animals wore black makeup that made their eyes and their jaws more horrifying than an actual wolf. Mike recalled the Sherlock Holmes story of the Hound of the Baskervilles where the culprit had disguised a large dog to look like the “hound from hell” with eyes that glowed in the dark in hopes of scaring the young Baskerville heir to death.
In addition to the bone chilling, sunken, yellow eyes and the bared, gnashing teeth, the body of each beast was black and woolly with fur so thick, it made each animal appear twice its actual size.
The crowd screamed with fear and delight as the lid of the coffin began to rise. A layer of dense fog swept over the stage floor and spilled into the crowd. Out of the fog, the cadaverous face of a young vampire seemed to float toward the microphone at the front of the platform.
The three wolves started howling, and the vampire said,” “Listen to them, the children of the night. What beautiful music they make.”
The audience cheered at these familiar words from Dracula. His hypnotic eyes and long, pointed teeth dripping blood filled all the screens. Several large bat-like creatures emerged from the fog, soared upward above the light poles, and disappeared far off in the distant sky.
Suddenly, the vampire glared in Mike’s direction. Caustically pointing his long pale finger, he screamed, “Unwelcome Intruder!”
The three wolf dogs bolted from the stage and ran toward Mike, who bounded from the shadows and ran for his life to his Volvo. Jumping into the driver’s seat, he sped away throwing gravel as he fishtailed into the road. Looking back in the rear view mirror, he didn’t see any sign of the wolves.
Upon returning home, Mike sat on the living room sofa in the dark. He wondered what the Count had said to his club members after he left. Did he have them in some kind of trance, or were they just having fun pretending to be under his spell? He couldn’t dispel the terrifying experience from his mind. The bizarre encounter with the wolf dogs had been so completely devastating; he couldn’t keep his hands from shaking and his teeth from chattering even now.
He remembered his embarrassment and humiliatio
n when he watched his first horror movie at a friend’s birthday party when he was ten years old. They were all engrossed in watching the movie Mr. Limpet and the Haunted House starring Don Knotts. The film was a comedy, not a horror picture, but while everyone else was laughing their asses off, he sat frozen in fear. The movie scared him so much; he couldn’t watch most of it. His friends, who had seen many real horror movies, noticed his pitiful state of terror and laughed more at him than the movie. Branded a wuss until he left for college, high school had been a lonely time because of that one humiliating incident that ruined his teenage years.
Was he overacting to the Vampire Club because of what had happened at that fateful birthday party? What would have happened if those vicious dogs had caught him before he got to his car? How had they disappeared so mysteriously? Was it all his imagination?
When Debbie came home that evening, he told her what had happened.
She laughed so long her sides started aching.
“Mike, I’ve seen the Twilight movies, and I slept like a baby after each one of them. Teenagers love horror. Now, more than ever. Just because a Don Knotts comedy about a haunted house scared you as a teen is no reason to inflict your phobia on everyone around you. Get hold of yourself. Maybe you should see a shrink.”
He looked at her in disbelief, appalled by her lack of understanding in light of his phobia regarding scary things. He thought of telling tell her what had happened to him at his initiation into the Phi Sigma Epsilon fraternity in college. This experience had been ten times worse than the birthday party she knew about.
When he’d found out what the frat brothers had planned for Hell Night, it was too late to turn back. He and the other plebes had to spend the night in a haunted house to join the frat. After they used every terrifying prank imaginable to scare them to death, the frat brothers decided to bury them alive in a coffin in a graveyard for three hours. The experience had caused his nervous breakdown and had sent him to a mental institution for six months. He was about to tell all when Debbie caught a breath from her laughing attack.