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Andrew Roller Presents
YOUNG VAMPIRES
in
Creatures of the Night
Chapter Four
It seemed odd to Severin to be a predator and to be afraid, so two
nights later he went again to Garnet Park. He arrived just after the sun
had set, jogging in, trying to look normal. He ran past the house where
heÕd met Miriam.
ÒStrange,Ó Severin reflected, for ÒmetÓ was exactly the word he
used in thinking about the encounter. But in fact he had not simply ÒmetÓ
her, as he might have in his past human life. HeÕd bitten her. HeÕd drunk
from her body, and heÕd felt an almost insensate lust in doing it.
Severin went in among the trees of Garnet Park and climbed up a big
oak. Its leaves were turning but much of the foliage was still there. He
was surprised at how quickly and casually he was able to climb the tree.
It was almost as if the light wind in its branches was carrying him up.
He was hungry. He hadnÕt fed since Miriam. He settled in among the
browning leaves and waited.
ÒMaybe some guy will come along, jogging,Ó Severin said to himself.
He laughed. ÒAfter all, joggingÕs good for the health!Ó Then he shook his
head. ArnieÕs ridiculous sense of humor was beginning to infect his own
view of the world.
Two women walked down the street. Severin watched them. Both
were Asian, one short and the other shorter. He laughed, inside himself, at
their bouffant hairdos. Both were older women.
ÒWomen are so artificial,Ó Severin said to himself. ÒFake hair,
gaudy earrings, painted eyes and lips and nails.Ó He followed the women
with his eyes, disliking them, but hoping they might stray into the park.
They did not. They stuck to the safety of the well-lit sidewalk. In a little
while they were gone and Severin wondered if he should climb down from
the tree and follow them.
ÒJogging, of course,Ó Severin reminded himself. ÒAlways must look
respectable in the strait-laced suburbs.Ó
And then he saw her. She was about nine, with nothing artificial
about her. She had long, flowing brown hair. The light of a street lamp
caught her eyes. Severin thought it must be an effect of the light, but as
she came closer, and he was able to focus on her with amazing clarity,
despite the darkness, he saw that her eyes really were unusually big and
blue. They seemed to sparkle. They gave her the look of a character in
Pokemon, as if sheÕd just stepped out of the toon, a Pokemon character
come to life. And then as puzzled by her eyes as Severin had briefly been,
he was puzzled about her age. She seemed no taller than a girl of nine, but
perhaps she was ten, for she had new-budding breasts under her blue
knitted sweater and her jeans had a definite flare to them, at the hips.
Yet despite her height she had legs as long as any girl he might have liked
to meet, such as Miriam. Still puzzling over her, and admiring her, he
watched her come close to his tree. For a second a little boy voice inside
his head suggested he unzip himself and pee, for she was right under the
tree now, looking up at it.
ÒWhat are you doing up there?Ó the girl asked, peering into the
darkness.
ÒHuh? Oh, shit!Ó Severin gasped.
ÒI can see you,Ó the girl said. ÒYou must be a child molester,Ó she
said after a moment.
ÒOh, fuck!Ó Severin swore. And then he realized he needed to fang
her. Somehow, sheÕd seen him. And now she thought the worst of him. He
couldntÕ see anyone else around, a quick drop from the tree and she would
be his, all his, and he could drink his fill of her.
ÒDo you see a cat up there?Ó the girl asked.
ÒWhat?Ó Severin asked.
ÒMy cat sometimes hides up in that twee,Ó the girl said, mangling
the word. ÒItÕs time for his dinner.Ó
Severin felt all the ability to suck her dry flow out of him. For a
moment he teetered in the branch, unsure what to do. Then something
somewhere told him to at least get the Hell out of the tree, since staying
up in it was obviously not working.
He dropped to the ground. Afterwards, he wasnÕt sure if heÕd climbed
down or just jumped down, it all seemed so light and easy, as if the wind
itself caught him as he fell, and eased him like some spectral companion
down to earth. He stood before the girl. He reached out and put his hands
on her blue knitted sweater, on her small rounded shoulders. He let his
hands sink into her silky brown hair that was tumbling over her shoulders
and streaming down past her breasts and over her back. He looked at her
face, wreathed by her hair, and he peered into her deep blue eyes.
ÒThe deep end of the ocean,Ó he murmured.
ÒYou are a child molester,Ó the girl insisted, turning her nose up
slightly, her mouth assuming a pout.
Severin raised an eyebrow. He felt an enormous sense of power over
her, and a great hunger too. One swift movement, one quick bite, and she
would be his.
ÒIÕm telling my mommie that I saw a child molester in the park,Ó the
girl said. Her voice had a slight whine to it now, for she was realizing
how strong his grip was.
ÒHow would you like to be my next meal?Ó Severin asked the girl
frankly.
ÒHuh?Ó the girl answered. ÒLet me go!Ó
ÒDonÕt yell,Ó Severin cautioned. He hated to clap his hand over the
girlÕs mouth. She seemed so perfect. He wanted her, but even more he felt
a need for her to admire him, to like him. HeÕd never had a little sister
and she seemed as if sheÕd be the perfect little Pokemon sister, with her
eyes as big as a cartoon characterÕs and her sexy little body.
ÒIÕm going home now,Ó the girl announced. Severin held onto her
tightly. He wasnÕt exactly sure what to do with her. Something inside
him, some shred of human reservation perhaps, kept him from fanging her.
At the same time he didnÕt exactly relish having to flee this stupid suburb
again. What was he to do? As she squirmed in his grasp he decided to
throw out any adult pretentions and to simply tell her the truth.
ÒLook,Ó Severin said. ÒIÕm a vampire. I survive by drinking blood.Ó
ÒYou drink blood?Ó the girl asked. Her eyes widened.
ÒI live by drinking blood,Ó Severin explained, choosing simpler words
to say what he meant. ÒLike, uh, Dracula.Ó
The girlÕs eyes were very wide now.
ÒYouÕre Count Dracula?Ó she asked.
ÒIÕm like Count Dracula,Ó Severin said. Suddenly, and quite
unexpectedly, she slipped out of his hands. His grip must have lessened on
her as he tried to explain himself to her, he realized. He was about to grab
her again when she hugged him.
ÒCount Chocula!Ó the Pokemon girl exclaimed. ÒI eat your cereal!Ó
she told him eagerly.
There was no way he could fang her now. How sweet she was! He
decided, against his better vampire judgement no doubt, that if he had to
make a break for it, to flee the suburb and she fled for home, he would do
it. Then, as he congratulated himself on his restraint, she stunned him.
ÒI want to be a vampire too,Ó the girl told Severin.
ÒI-- I canÕt,Ó Severin said, though the thought did sound attractive.
His very own groupie vampire, with her Pokemon eyes, her My Little Pony
hair, and her Playmate perfect (given a few years) body. ÒYouÕd never
grow up,Ó Severin explained. ÒYouÕd stay nine forever.Ó
ÒNine?!Ó the girl declared, suddenly insulted. ÒIÕm ten!Ó
ÒOh. Sorry,Ó Severin said.
The girl stepped back from him. She crossed her arms over her
breasts. Sulking, she said, ÒIÕm not going home until you make me a
vampire!Ó
ÒI canÕt!Ó Severin said. ÒI know it has something to do with fanging
you. Some vampire fanged me and made me a vampire. But thereÕs a
technique to it. Maybe you just bite the person and wish that they become
a vampire. But maybe thereÕs more to it. I donÕt know. I might just wind
up draining some of your luscious red blood out of that perfect body of
yours.Ó Severin felt himself swoon. He was lusting after the girlÕs veins
now, as well as the rest of her. He had to leave, and right away, before he
did something he might regret, deep in the day as he lay in his coffin.
Severin stepped back from the girl. ÒGo home!Ó he told her. He felt as if
he were addressing a wayward cat but there was no other way he could
think of handling the matter. It wasnÕt exactly as if he could knock on her
parentÕs door, or anything.
ÒHi, IÕm a vampire whom your daughter mistook for a child molester,
and while she does look to be growing into Miss Playmate 2010 IÕm hoping
youÕll take her back. Before I eat her.Ó Yeah, that would be a great way to
do it, Severin thought. Adults could never take the truth, even if it was
simple and convenient.
ÒIÕm not going home until you make me a vampire,Ó Miss Pokemon,
equally intransigent, insisted. And despite her innocence she looked like a
perfect suburban brat who was used to getting things exactly her way.
ÒDo you want me to fang you?!Ó Severin asked the girl, the pitch of
his voice rising.
ÒI want to be a vamprie!Ó the girl said, screwing up her
prononciation of the word as she said it.
ÒYou canÕt be a vamprie-- I mean, a vampire!Ó Severin shouted at her.
Then he looked around, at the dark grass and the houses in the distance.
The homesÕ blank, curtained windows stared at him, illuminated from
within as if by some hidden, deadly knowledge. ÒIÕm going!Ó Severin told
the girl. ÒOkay? Goodbye! Go home to your cereal and your toons and
forget you ever met me!Ó
He ran. He didnÕt even consider how stupid it was for him, the deadly
predator vampire, to be fleeing a ten-year-old girl. He just did it, and
hoped he beat it out of suburbia before she got home.
Panting, he finally arrived in Old Sanrameto. He made his way to the
old shed with the porch. Arnie and Trace were there, serenely insane. In
their madness they knew nothing of the artificiality of women, or of
stubborn little Pokemon girls who wanted to be undead.
ÒWell, now thereÕs a man who could use a trip to Burger King,Ó Arnie
cackled to Trace as he saw Severin approach.
ÒHold the pickles, hold the lettuce, donÕt need buns... beef? forget it,
all I want is ketchup,Ó Trace sang.
ÒKetchuppppp,Ó Arnie chimed.
ÒHi guys,Ó Severin said, his voice broken by his exertion. Gradually
he calmed, as he stood on the porch in the night air with his two friends.
There was a clomp of boots. Arnie laughed nervously. Severin spun
about, expecting the worst. And it was, almost. A large figure, taller
than any of the three, came tramping down the dirt road that led to the old
shed. Severin saw flashes of chain link on the boots the man wore. Plus,
above a black waistcoat, flowing down on all sides of his face and spread
across his shoulders, a mane of dark hair.
ÒBart!Ó Arnie said. There was a tremble in ArnieÕs voice. There was
no doubt among them that one more powerful than all of them had arrived.
He came up onto the porch. He was young, their own age, but taller
and more heavily built. Around his hips he wore a belt. Two holsters
dangled from it, on either side of his waist. In each holster was a double-
barrelled shotgun.
ÒHi,Ó Severin said. Bart looked at him. Then he said to Arnie and
Trace,
ÒWhoÕs this?Ó Bart conveyed a ruddy sense of good cheer. But it
was clear he was uneasy. Severin guessed it was himself who made Bart
uncomfortable.
ÒHeÕs new,Ó Trace said offhandedly.
ÒA new man,Ó Arnie agreed. Then he laughed. ÒNeuman!Ó he said.
ÒWell hello, Neuman,Ó Bart said to Severin. As for himself, Severin
simply said ÒHelloÓ in reply. He wasnÕt about to get into an argument with
someone as well-armed as Bart. And as for Arnie and Trace, he really
didnÕt care what those two goofballs called him.
ÒTwo vampires are duking it out,Ó Bart said to Arnie and Trace. ÒIf
you guys like, IÕll let you watch.Ó
ÒWhere?Ó Arnie asked.
ÒMy secret. But IÕll show you,Ó Bart said.
ÒWhat do you want in return?Ó Trace asked.
ÒHe probably wants us to shut up!Ó Arnie cackled.
ÒNo, just ally yourself with me if I get in trouble,Ó Bart said.
ÒAre you in trouble?Ó Arnie asked, arching a brow.
ÒNo, of course not. Just, like, hang around with me for awhile, thatÕs
all. ThreeÕs company,Ó he smiled.
ÒAlright,Ó Arnie answered.
ÒIÕll get you some guns later on,Ó Bart added.
ÒWhoa, this is serious!Ó Trace said.
ÒNothing is serious to the delerious,Ó Arnie said, laughing, and
Trace, picking up on his friendÕs manic humor, broke out in laughter too.
ÒTweedledee and Tweedle Dumb,Ó Severin muttered.
ÒAre you coming?Ó Bart asked. He seemed more comfortable with
Severin now.
ÒI--Ó Severin said. Bart looked him over again.
ÒFrankly I thought you might be here to shoot me but I guess youÕre
not, huh?Ó Bart said.
ÒNo, of course--Ó Severin said.
ÒMind if I pat you down?Ó Bart asked. Severin felt in no position to
refuse. The man was looming over him.
ÒAlright,Ó Severin gasped. He let Bart run his hands quickly over his
clothing. He wasnÕt wearing much, just a jacket and jeans, plus a collared
shirt.
ÒOkay. Cool,Ó Bart said when he was finished. He turned to Arnie
and Trace.
ÒWe donÕt need to be searched, man,Ó Trace said wanly.
ÒPerhaps our brains...Ó Arnie added, giggling.
ÒHe wouldnÕt find anything there,Ó Severin said.
ÒAh! Neuman is showing some attitude!Ó Arnie said.
ÒHeÕs been accepted by Bart, now heÕs ready to kick ass!Ó Trace said.
Bart lost interest in doing more searches. He turned. Motioning with his
arm, he said,
ÒCome on! LetÕs see the fight while itÕs still happening. One of them
will be dead soon, I imagine.Ó
He awoke. He rubbed a hand across his face. He felt the smoothness
of it. His eyes blinked wetly. He arose from his bed. It was hard for him
to sleep during the day, but it was necessary if he was to hunt at night.
He strode to the door of his little room. He picked up his cane. He
unlocked the door and went out, careful to lock it once more before
walking across the alley.
An hour later he was back from his shopping trip. He was glad Mors
Hardware had been open late. He walked down the alley, letting the paint
can swing in his hand. When he came to the back of the building where his
room was, he did not turn toward it. Instead he went down the small
flight of steps on the other side of the alley, that lead down along the
backside of the building opposite, to a cellar door. He stopped before the
door. He glanced behind himself, then gazed at the door again. He bent
down. He took a flat piece of wood out of his pocket. It was about the
size and shape of a ruler. Angling it under the lid of the paint can, he
pried it open. He gazed down at the pool of white paint inside the can. Its
fresh odor assailed his nostrils. From a pocket in his coat he drew out a
paintbrush. It was brand new, like the paint and the ruler. He put the
ruler back in his pocket and the lid of the paint can he quietly laid down on
the concrete in front of the door.
Daubing the brush into the paint, he began to apply white paint to the
door. He worked quickly, despite his age, occasionally glancing back
behind himself to make sure nothing had stepped out of the shadows. As
he worked, a white cross took shape on the door.
They were sitting on the dark beach, amidst a stand of trees. A fire
was burning. It through luminous waves of heat and light across them.
They looked young, innocent, their faces glowing by the light of the fire.
Sparks rose from the flames. Severin stepped back instinctively. Bart
flinched as well, but then laughed. He turned and looked at Arnie, who had
suddenly turned and run.
ÒItÕs only an illusion,Ó Brad said in a jovial voice, with just a trace
of dread. ÒCÕmon.Ó But one of their number was already running. He was
dashing toward the fire, screaming madly.
ÒPut it out! Put it out!Ó Trace yelled.
ÒOh shit. HeÕll get his ass blasted if he runs in like that,Ó Brad said.
Arnie, running up behind them now, his voice tremulous and panting, said,
ÒOoops. TraceÕs gone into fireman mode.Ó
ÒHuh?Ó Brad asked, as they ran after Trace.
ÒHeÕs perfectly normal. Unless he sees a big fire. Then he tries to
put it out. By throwing himself into it.Ó
As they watched, unable to catch up to the young man in time, Trace
hurled himself at the fire. He dropped into the flames. But the people
sitting around the bonfire were oblivious to Trace, as if he didnÕt exist.
Even the fire remained undisturbed, as Trace disappeared within it.
Boldly, Brad ran straight into the people who were assembled around
the fire. He avoided the flames of the fire, as if by reflex, but seemed
otherwise to treat the whole scene as imaginary.
Which it was, as Severin found out, passing just outside the
gathering and then on into a realm seemingly split off from the landscape
of Old Sanramento. They were down on the beach, just a mile or so from
the Old Sanramento bridge, and they were standing amidst the trees heÕd
seen, along the sandy shore spread out along the bank of the river, under a
nearby bluff. But despite the reality of the trees and the sandy soil,
despite the broad moonlit waters flowing nearby, down toward the bridge,
Severin no longer saw the bonfire. Or the people. Instead, he saw
shadows, and, as his senses adjusted, he saw shiny, glimmering eyes, and
fangs.
ÒLook,Ó Brad said. He pointed. He and Severin were no longer
running, both of them standing still now, but panting. As Severin calmed
himself he saw that the group of vampires of which he was now a part
were staring at two figures. They stood in the middle of the vampires,
with everyone standing back far enough to give them a respectful distance.
One vampire wore a crewcut, his face that of a man in his 40Õs. He was of
average height, but the remarkable thing about him was standing beside
him. It was a dog, with blood red eyes and fangs. With intense
concentration he stared at the vampire opposite him. He was a large, fat
man, with a green vest and a hat of the same color, with a feather in it.
He looked like a German tourist, straight from Bavaria. Severin almost
expected to see him pull out a bag of Ricola cough drops, as he stood
staring back at the man with the dog.
The dog starled. The Bavarian did not flinch.
ÒItÕs Preponderate. TheyÕre both using it,Ó Brad whispered.
ÒHuh?Ó Severin asked.
ÒOh, youÕre new. Preponderate is a power that some vampires have,
Neuman,Ó Brad explained. ÒTheyÕre both trying to stare the other one
down. One of them must have the Obscurantism Talent, also, so as not to
break the Charade.Ó
ÒI still donÕt get it,Ó Severin said.
ÒItÕs unlikely this will end with staring,Ó Brad explained. ÒItÕs
liable to erupt into more... much more. Imagine guns going off in the
middle of Old Sanramento. The police would come and we would have to
scatter. If any of us were caught, admittedly a difficult thing for a human
to do, there would surely be trouble. There are six billion mortals on
earth. There are perhaps a thousand vampires. Maybe several thousand at
most. If the humans ever believed in our existence again, as they once did,
in the Middle Ages, anything could happen. There could even be a new
Inquisition.Ó
The very word made Severin tremble. He didnÕt know why. His mind,
in a kind of frantic desperation, delved back into what heÕd learned in high
school.
ÒThe...Ó Severin couldnÕt bring himself to say the word. ÒSomething
about people being tortured, right?Ó
ÒVampires being slaughtered, by highly knowledgeable church
officials,Ó Brad said. ÒOh, they got some of their own too, by accident, but
we were flushed out and killed, systematically, like the Nazis killing the
Jews. There was no place to run, no place to hide. I wasnÕt alive then yet
or, for that matter, undead, but IÕve heard stories about it. They almost
got all of us, but as our numbers dwindled, so did the number of people
who believed in our existence. So, today, if two vampires get into it with
each other they are supposed to conceal their scrap, to keep prying eyes
from hearing or seeing anything at all.Ó
Suddenly, the Bavarian vampire broke eye contact. There was a crow
of pleasure from the vampire with the goatee.
ÒShit! Bosley lost,Ó Brad breathed. ÒNow thereÕs sure to be trouble.Ó
ÒKneel!Ó the vampire with the goatee announced. Against his will,
tears welling up in his eyes as he felt himself forced to obey, Bosley went
down on one knee. Then his other knee hit the ground. ÒProstrate!Ó the
vampire with the goatee commanded. His dog barked. Trembling, tears
running down his face, Bosley fell forward onto the ground. ÒMy voice
commands!Ó the vampire with the goatee shouted, as BosleyÕs eyes broke,
quite reluctantly, from his gaze. ÒLie on your back!Ó the vampire with the
goatee ordered. Bosley rolled over. His big fat body looked like a dead
cow, to Severin. The vampire with the goatee stepped forward. ÒBack!Ó he
yelled to his dog, as the dog leapt at the chance to bite the supine
Bavarian. And it was then, as the one vampire was slightly distracted,
that the other vampire struck. Swifly drawing a knife from its sheath on
his belt, he thrust it upward. He stuck it straight up between the other
vampireÕs legs, rising with a swiftness that belied his bulk, as if the wind
itself assisted him in rising.
The scream from the vampire with the goatee was horriffic. There
was a murmur from the onlookers. Severin felt a wave of relish pass
through the crowd. It gave even himself an unwanted taste of excitement,
as if he were a creature who lived for blood lust.
ÒDamn. He got Roland right in the dick,Ó Brad gasped. His voice
seemed to drip with lust. As Severin quivered with pent-up emotion, he
watched Roland grab his crotch. But the dog sprang into action, mauling
Bosley as the Bavarian tried to get up. Severin drew his arms across his
chest, trying to contain his excitement. Blood flowed from Bosley, from
gashes on his face and chest. Roland dropped to one knee, both hands still
on his groin. Then, slowly, with an effort of will that was hard to
imagine, Roland pulled one of his hands from his bloodied crotch. He drew
a gun from within his coat. It was a 9mm pistol. Its metal gleamed in the
moonlight. He aimed it at Bosley. His hand was unsteady, but Bosley was
not very far. He fired. The Bavarian, risen to his knees now, with the dog
mauling his face, was hit from behind. He fell forward. He slammed face-
down into the ground. But then he was reaching for his own gun, and to
SeverinÕs surprise he managed to pull it from inside his vest. It was a
pistol, small caliber. He fired it at Roland.
There was a crack of gunfire as the two men emptied their guns into
each other. Both were torn apart by the rounds, which left gaping holes in
their bodies. Yet both continued to move, to breathe, to gush blood and yet
not die.
ÒWh- WhatÕs happening? They should both be killed by now,Ó Severin
breathed to Brad.
ÒVampires can take a lot,Ó Brad said. As Severin watched the blood
ceased flowing from the gaping holes. The holes themselves began to lose
shape, as if not healing but, rather, disappearing into some otherworld.
Severin sensed that the holes remained in the flesh but they had been
blurred somehow, their distinct character lost to sight. A kind of gaping
blackness remained where the bullets had hit, as if the two figures had
been rubbed with charcoal. And where the dog had struck, the gash marks
turned to something resembling black scabs.
Racked with pain, the two vampires collided. They wrestled on the
ground. Roland tried shouting commands to Bosley but the Predominate
Talent had been broken by their fighting; Roland, as they rolled on the
ground, was unable to gain effective eye contact over Bosley again...
To Be Continued...
(Sorry thereÕs no sex yet. You have to remember that these people are
corpses and so it takes a little while for them to get heated up.)
30
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