hearing became super sensitive and he picked up the distant sound of footsteps approaching from the other side of the closed double doors that lead into the hallway beyond. Fighting the sharp attack of extreme pain on his body and internal organs, he staggered to the wall and shut off the lights.
He fell to the floor, holding his stomach in the darkness, biting his lip to keep silent. Every pore in his body itched like a son of a bitch but he fought the urge to scratch, knowing it would be over in few seconds. He felt the very core of his body transform from the inside out; bones contorting, motor skills reverting to that of a savage animal, mentality taking on a less complicated thought process.
He was no longer himself by the time the double doors opened. The shaft of light fell into the room from the hallway silhouetting two figures. His beastly ears could hear the two things making noises that he had heard time and time again: they were communicating with each other but his brain couldn't understand what they were saying.
All he wanted to do was eat.
So that's what he did...
From out of the darkness, he rushed to two figures. His right front claws tearing into one’s midsection; a sloppy, bloody glob of mess gushed out onto the floor with a wet splat. That figure fell.
The other figure began to make a loud noise that ended in a labored gurgle as he took the man to the floor and tore into his throat, the warm, salty liquid once again rushing into his mouth and down into his gullet. He bit down almost effortlessly and heard the snap of bones, then watched as the figure’s head rolled away from him. The warm liquid pumped from a bloody, gnarled stump where the head had been. He lay on the floor, lapping it up as it surged out of the body and into his mouth.
He turned his attention to the other figure, hungrily feeding on the pungent pile of slop that fell from its gut.
After a time, enough time to hollow out the torsos of both bodies, he ran down the hall as fast as his four, large, hairy legs would carry him and broke through the glass doors that led out into the night.
His body tingled as the big, bright circle in the dark sky beckoned him. Controlled him. Made him feel stronger. Invincible. Blood thirsty. He threw his head back a called to it in a loud howl, acknowledging its dominance over him.
He ran off into the night and soon he was back to the forest where he felt safe, searching to quench his lust for flesh once again; perhaps on another group of campers.
the bite
Blood!
Blood everywhere! Blood on his hands! Blood on his chest!
Where did it come from?
How did it get on him?
Whose was it?
He sat up in his bed and took a quick look around the room, searching for anything out of place, anything that would give him an answer.
It was still dark outside and he had, once again, fallen asleep without turning out his bedside lamp. He glanced at the clock: 4:54 am.
Wearily, he ambled down the hall to the living room littered with beer cans and liquor bottles from the party he had hosted the night before. The odor alcohol still lingered.
There was nothing out of the ordinary here.
He turned and headed back down the hall, stepping in something cold and wet in the carpet. He reached down to his foot, touched it, and then smelled his fingers: beer.
His knees suddenly went weak, his legs turned to rubber, and he felt nauseous. His fingers started to tingle and his neck was throbbing. He stumbled to the bathroom, holding on to the sink to keep his balance. This didn’t feel like his usual hangover.
Turning on the light, he looked in the mirror and saw the left side of his neck and his shoulder both covered in blood. Fresh blood!
He ran the faucet, splashing water on his face and neck, and found the source of the blood. At first he wasn’t really sure what he was seeing; his vision was becoming blurred. He blinked hard, rubbed his eyes and looked again. There was no mistaking it. There were two small puncture wounds on the left side of his neck.
Bite marks!
Suddenly, the images of every vampire movie he had ever seen came crashing into his mind.
They don’t exist, he thought. Or do they?
Who the hell invited a vampire to his party last night? Or were they all vampires? And if he had been fed on by a vampire, why wasn’t he dead? Unless, now he was undead! Doomed to walk the Earth for all eternity; a slave to his new disease.
“This sucks”, he said aloud. He dried his shoulder with a towel.
He didn’t even like the sight of blood. How would he ever get used to the taste? He had no plans of living forever, either. The thought of being an eternal, blood-drinking murderer made him shiver in disgust.
Wait a damned minute, he thought. This is crazy! They don’t exist! They can’t…
A blinding pain ripped through his last thought; he fell to the floor and crawled to the bedroom, stopping at the foot of his bed. His fingers were tingling again, and he couldn’t feel his legs. He slapped them as hard as he could. Nothing. This must be what the transition from human to vampire feels like.
Fighting the pain in his head, he pulled himself over to his nightstand and, after a slight struggle to keep control of his hands, brought the phone down to floor next to him.
As he rolled over onto his back, dialing 911, his mind raced. Strange thoughts wormed through his brain. What if I drink a blood type that doesn’t match my own? Do I need a coffin? Should I make my victims test for HIV? Can HIV kill a vampire or is it still just a stake through the heart? Dammit, this means no more garlic bread from Alfredo's Pizza Shack! Shit, this can't be happening!
One of the 911 operators came on the line after the first ring, “911. What is your emergency?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first. He had to fight for the words. A few seconds passed before he won the battle and finally said something. He had hoped to say something intelligent like: “I’ve been attacked in my home and I need an ambulance.”
Instead, what came out was, “There goes.. my perfect... tan.”
The operator paused, “Excuse me?” She waited for a response. “Hello. Please stay on the line…Are you there?”
His hand had become too weak to hold the phone; he dropped it. His arm quickly followed and fell to the floor, limp. Soon he couldn’t feel either one.
Then, in the silence, he heard a noise near his ear, coming from under the bed. It was a very familiar sound he had heard quite often over the past two years, ever since he brought it home from the pet store.
What the hell was it doing under the bed? Who the hell let it out of its tank?
It took almost all of his strength, but he managed to turn his head towards the source of the sound, knowing what it was before he ever saw it.
He blinked until it came into focus, then, stared right into its tiny black eyes. He saw its tongue flicker, tasting the air. No doubt, sensing the inevitable death it had caused. He smiled at it until his vision went black.
The rattling of its maraca-like tail was growing faint.
As his senses faded, a final thought crossed his mind:
“Thank God it wasn’t a vampire.”
the defiant seed
It was the second day in my new place, a house I had rented during the spring to write my first book. Mother Nature was putting on quite a show that night, starring thunder and lightning with a special appearance by the rain. According to the weatherman, the performance was booked for the entire weekend. It was only Friday and, for some reason, the light and sound show was keeping me from sleeping. Unusual.
I looked at my bedside clock for the fifth time: 3:13 am. It seemed like an hour had gone by since 3:12.
I stared at the ceiling, thinking about my old place in the city. For three years I had been surrounded by muggings, rapes, robberies, murders... you name the crime, I probably knew a victim. Especially when it comes to random shooting victims, I know of this first hand.
A month ago, I was sitting in my living room watching
TV when an argument erupted in the yard across the street. Five minutes later, the angry voices were replaced with the sounds of gunfire.
Before I knew it, I was in the hospital with a single bullet wound to the head. Though I was unconscious for a while, I could still hear the beeping of the heart monitor and the mechanical breathing from the respirator keeping me alive. After a while, I had learned to tune them out. To this day, I have no idea how or why I am still alive. It seems I have cheated death.
I looked back at my clock: 3:14... no... now it was 3:15.
Unable to sleep, I got up and went downstairs to the kitchen to make my favorite sandwich: ham, American cheese and Cheetos between the last two slices of marble rye. I decided I would go shopping in the morning. I grabbed the carton of orange juice from the fridge and took my snack out onto the screened back porch where my lawn chair was waiting.
The floor of the porch had become wet from the rain splashing through the mesh screen, but the intoxicating scent of the rain filled my senses and was enough to relax me to the point of nearly falling asleep right there.
That's when I remembered that I was naked. If I were anywhere else, I would have gone back inside, but the eight foot privacy fence that enclosed the back yard gave me the confidence to stay put. So, I indulged in the serenity of the rhythm of the warm spring rain creating a soothing melody on the roof of my porch and the warm, wet breeze flowing over my nakedness. Which, by the way, I highly recommend; it is one of life's most relaxing experiences.
I was drinking from