VAMPIRE DREAMS

BY KURTIS WARRINGTON

 

            A dense fog floats and lightly mingles with the darkness of night.  Several college girls stroll together through the abandoned streets of the city.  One of the women looks around with a growing sense of nervousness.  Her blonde hair is threatening to fall out of it’s pinned up position, as her large, blue eyes notice the nonexistence of life around them.  There are no homeless bums begging for change or even stray cats noisily mating in the dark alleyways.

            “Kim, Nancy.” The blonde squeaks out through her fear constricted throat and clamped jaws.   The two giggling girls pick up on their friend’s nervousness.

            “What is it Dana?”  Kim asks suddenly feeling frightened.  Kim’s deep, brown, Asian eyes glance around, then stare intently at Dana.

            “Something’s wrong.” Dana states, worried.  “Let’s hurry!” 

            Kim frowns angrily since her small, chubby legs are already having trouble keeping up with her friends.

            “I can’t go any faster!” Kim exclaims with embarrassment.  Kim bundles her loose jacket around her stomach, in hopes that Nancy in all her skinniness & curly brown hair won’t make another fat joke.  Nancy opens her mouth to do just that when Dana roughly grabs both of their hands and pulls them along behind her.

 

            A dark shadow emerges from the blackness.  The billowing ink takes the form of a tall, thin man with a top hat.  The dancing darkness behind him weaves into a long cloak full of swirling shadows.

            “Please take care of this ‘til I return.”  He says, with a proper British accent, as he plops a top hat onto a calico cat’s ears and back, making him meow.  The hat slowly creeps down over his it’s eyes and head.  The cat’s meow ends in a wet, sickly gurgle as razor wire digs deeply into its throat and front paws.  It’s black legs twitch spasmodically as they hang free.  A few remaining drops of blood leak out of the cat’s neck where the razor wire is strung, and creeps down the wire as it curls around a few trash cans stacked on top of each other.  The blood soon reaches another cat which is strung cruelly with it’s hind legs and tail tied up.  The cat’s upper body rigidly hangs down in the first throes of rigor mortis.  Several other cats are similarly afflicted, each completely depleted of life as they are of blood.  The cats are strung up like lights on a Christmas tree.

 

            Dana drags her two friends behind her down the street until Nancy gets fed up with it and stops them all.

            “Stop it!” Nancy screams as she yanks her hand away from Dana.

            “Perhaps I may be of service pretty ladies.” A smooth, heavily accented voice asks from the darkness ahead.  A cloaked man steps from the shadows.  Dana barely stifles her scream at the sudden appearance of this mysterious man.

            “No, we’re fine.” Dana says.  The women notice this tall, thin man seems extremely pale, but darkness lingers about him.  He elegantly bows with a swish of his cloak, and a mocking laugh escapes his mouth.

            Dana grabs her friends again but this time they don’t resist as she urgently pulls them like rag dolls past the man, giving him a wide berth.  Kim looks back to make sure he isn’t following them, but she is pleasantly surprised to see the man isn’t there at all.

            “I apologize for my manners.”  The man in black suavely states to the startled women.

            “What are you talking about?”  Dana gasps.  The women had almost fallen over each other in the sudden stop at the reappearance of this boogieman.  Now they back up away from him together.

            “I apologize because my mother always told me... not to play with my food.”  The man’s black as coal eyes regard them & they can see he is very serious.

            “Run!” Kim screams as they fall into a panic.

            “I use to react the same way when my mother would tell me those inane sayings” the dark man contemplates as a cold smile plays on his lips.  “I suppose that’s why I killed her so awfully.”

            Nancy falls back from her two friends as they race ahead of her in pure panic.  Nancy’s legs burn in fatigue, but she desperately struggles to keep up with them.  Even chubby Kim slowly pulls away on her stubby, little legs.  Nancy is more scared of being left behind by her friends than the strange, British freak they left in the dust.

            A shadow streaks up behind Nancy unawares.  Pale, well-manicured hands slip out of the darkness towards Nancy’s head.

            Nancy struggles to keep up with her friends, pretending her body isn’t on the verge of complete exhaustion.  She can see their backs, flailing arms and pumping legs.  Then the face of the dark man who had terrified them so badly appears, but she wonders unafraid and almost distant how this strange person could get in front of her again.  Nancy tries to run around him, but feels her body go numb beneath her.  Her eyes look down and see that her feet are swinging pathetically off the ground.  There’s something awkward about the way her legs are moving.  Her knees almost seem to be bending backwards.  Nancy looks up to see the dark man’s soulless eyes taking in all her confusion and helplessness.  He’s enjoying her plight greatly.  She tries to hit and slap him in anger at his bold cruelty, but her arms are swinging behind her for some reason she can’t fathom.  Nancy looks back down at her body to try and puzzle out what’s wrong.  Nancy looks down again and begins to understand what has happened, as she is able to see her own backside.

            Dana hears a high-pitched scream and glances back to make sure her friends are there, but finds only Kim.  With no breath left in her lungs to call for Nancy and terror written all over Kim’s round face she uses the rest of her strength to keep running.  What seems like an eternity of forcing her leaden legs to keep moving passes and another scream echoes from behind her.  Dana glances back in horror and sees Kim being consumed by a cloak of darkness.  Her exhaustion is shattered with a bludgeon of fear.

            Coldness creeps up from behind Dana with tendrils of darkness coming into her peripheral vision.  Freezing hands pull down her skirt and panties, which fall around her ankles.  The street’s asphalt tear off large chunks of skin from her body as she crashes into the ground.  Dana just lays there bleeding and gasping for air like a fish out of water.  Dana looks up with wide hopeless eyes at the tall man in black.

            “I tend to loose track of time, but it smells like that special time of month for you.”  Dana watches her murderer breathe in deeply the fragrance of her pink, torn panties.  “I find it’s a great delicacy this menstruating cycle.”  Dana screams despite her lack of wind as the dark man casually swirls his flowing cloak behind him so it won’t get in the way of his next meal.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

            Spittle drips from the mouth of a heavily bound sweating man in a white straight jacket. 

            “No... no!  Please don’t kill them too...” he sobs,  “just kill them quickly... they don’t all have to suffer!”  Saliva sprays out as the obviously crazed man screams in a fever of rage.  “Don’t hurt her anymore you motherfucker!” On his knees and alone in his padded cell, he pitifully begs for mercy.  “Just let her die... just let her die...”

            “Do you think that killer is at work again?”  A sanitarium guard asks.  A short stalky man in a bedraggled suit stands on the tips of his loafers so he can peer into the cell window at the pathetic slobbering lunatic. 

            “He knew so much about the last couple of murders, that we thought he was the ‘vampire killer’ and locked him up.”  The height challenged detective settles back down on his heels and pretends to keep watching the patient.

            “So what happened then?”  The amply girthed guard asks as he easily peers in the patient’s cell.  Not liking this near seven-foot tall guard anymore, the detective tries to change the subject. 

            “You have those microphones still recording all this insane loser is saying?” Fed up with pretending to look in the cell window, he walks away.  The guard his pearly white uniform hears the detective’s footstep’s walking away and follows.

            “Yeah.” The guard rather rudely answers as he catches up to the detective in a few long strides.  “We’re recording everything.”

            The detective reaches the security door and patiently waits for the overlarge guard to work his fat magic and unlock it.  When it becomes apparent that the chubby guard isn’t going to, the detective looks up at him, with his best intimidating look.

            “So why are people still being killed if this shitlips is the vampire?”  The guard’s beady, blue eyes stare down at the detective over his pudgy cheeks and isn’t impressed by his intimidating look.

            “Because he’s not the ‘vampire’, but he must be an accomplice of some kind.”  The detective turns back to the door expecting the big guard to open it now, but he doesn’t.

            “So all that shit the lunatic keeps crapping out his mouth is true?”  The guard asks.  The detective is really aggravated now and tries his intimidating look again, but still it has no effect on the bigger man.  “Is it true or not, Bill?”  The Detective winces at his first name being said by the heavy-set guard.  He hated it when under educated cop wannabe’s called him by his first name.  He had earned his title and expected to be called by it.

            “So far everything that squirrelly turd has spouted out has been dead on.” Making a point to look at the guard’s name badge, he continues his sentence.  “Todd.”  The guard frowns down at the detective, but finally opens the security door to A block.

 

            As the detective walks out, he feels his jacket pocket.  The dope he had found in his daughter’s room that morning was still there.  All he had to do was look up Todd’s license plate number, plant the dope on it and place an anonymous call into narcotics.  The mammoth guard may be able to shed a few pounds in jail.  Bill chuckles to himself as he walks out of the sanitarium.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

            “How much longer are they going to keep you locked away behind rubber walls?”  The sanitarium patient slowly looks up to see a rather tall man sitting up in the corner of his cell.

            “Anatolios...” The patient whispers, backing up in fear.  Gravity seems to have no power over the vampire, who is dressed in a nice, black suit including a cloak and top hat.  Shadows and darkness somehow always covers and shades him.  Through the vampire’s eyes, the patient can see himself kneeling on the floor with the straight jacket on.  Practically bald with cuts and bruises all over his body, he is a shadow of his former self.  Ever since Anatolios came into his life, he has been trapped in an unbelievable nightmare. 

            “I’ll die here.” He hoarsely screams and breaks down crying as emotions overwhelm him.  Anatolios stares at him with his arms resting upon his bent knees.

            “Stan... you don’t have to rot in here, my friend.” The shadowy figure flatly states.

            “I’ll never serve you!” Stan spits.  “You sick bastard!  Why do you make them suffer so?”  Anatolios thinks for a moment, caught off guard by the question.

            “Just for a little entertainment.”  He smoothly drops down from the wall and strolls around Stan.  “I gave you a taste of what it is like to be a vampire through my very own eyes.  If you serve me faithfully, I will make you a vampire one day.”  Stan stares up at Anatolios hatefully.

            “Why would I ever want to be a bloodsucking parasite like you?”  He screams.  Anatolios laughs, at the silly question.

            “Why wouldn’t you want to be a vampire?”  The Anatolios walks up the padded wall as if it were the floor.  “Immortality... beauty, grace, youth, energy, superiority over mortals...”  Anatolios says as he stops walking and looks down at Stan.  “If nothing else you’ll get out of this rubber room.”

            “Why do you want me?”  Stan asks as he huddles in the corner.

            “I’ve watched you for a long time and you remind me of myself before I was given the immortal kiss, but I’m growing weary of your negative responses and arguments” His words seem oily, though tinged with a proper English accent.

            “You are the master of lies!” Stan stands up and looks at the dark man standing on his ceiling.  “Why do you really want me?  I’m sure it’s not because I remind you of yourself!” 

            “You’re rather smart, Stan.”  Anatolios thinks for a moment as he pats a forefinger against his chin.  “I want your money and fortune.  You have ten houses around the world and several million dollars.”

            Stan laughs hysterically for several moments as Anatolios looks at him curiously.  The humor in his dire circumstances vanish and tears roll down his face.

            “And after you use my fortune, you won’t give me your dark gift, you will discard me like a bloodless corpse.” Stan sits down hard.  “After all...” he whispers, “the more vampires you create, the more competition you have out in the world and the more likely your secret will be discovered by mortals.”

            “There is still plenty of room in the world for vampires and I could use a good companion like yourself.” Anatolios eyes him coldly, but his voice is full of fake warmth. “Don’t lose your only true chance at immortality.”

            “The only things you ever have to fear are: the sun, a mortal finding you sleeping and another vampire destroying you.  Therefore, you could never make me immortal because I would kill you the first chance I got.”  Stan glares into the vampire’s soulless eyes and looks down.

            Anatolios drops from the ceiling and easily lands on his feet like a cat.  In a smooth motion, Stan is lifted several feet off the ground with the vampire’s right hand threatening to crush his neck. 

            “You’re right.  I’ll take your fortune, life and blood.  Even if I can’t have your fortune I will soon have someone else’s!”  Anatolios then tosses Stan away from him.  Stan’s head and back slam into the padded ceiling and then he falls down to the floor.  Despite the rubber padding, Stan’s breath is knocked out of him and his throat burns with coldness where Anatolios touched him.

            “No!” Stan gasps, instinctively cowering away as Anatolios moves toward him.  The vampire stops and a cruel smile flicks across his face.

            “I’ll let you live so you can one day look back and realize the mistake you’ve made!  You may also keep my ‘sight’.  It will give you something to watch as your body rots in this madhouse!”

            “No!  You bastard!  Take your damn ‘sight’!”  Stan screams with all his remaining strength.  Blood drips out of Stan’s mouth where he has bit his lip.

            Anatolios opens the cell door and with a snap of the vampire’s fingers, Stan’s straightjacket is instantly loosened.  Stan flails his arms and struggles to get the jacket off.   Once free, Stan sprints for the opened cell door.  Anatolios is nowhere to be seen.  When he reaches the doorway, a huge object hit’s him and he falls backwards.  He thinks a couch has hit him, but then realizes it’s Todd the oversized guard. 

            Todd’s throat is bit open and several drops of blood leak onto Stan’s face.  Stan pushes the dead guard off of him with extra strength given to him by his growing panic. 

            “Too bad you destroyed this tape, it would have proved I existed.”  Anatolios says as he holds up a mini cassette tape in his hand.  He breathes on the cassette and it catches fire, melting in seconds.  The darkly clad Anatolios shakes his hand to shake off the melted plastic.  “I wonder what the police will do when they find you’ve killed this guard?  Oh well... have a pleasant life Stan!” 

            The vampire transforms into shadows and floats away in a blink of an eye down the corridor.  Stan runs after him, but sees the shadow blast through a window and flows around the steel bars without even slowing.  Alarms resound throughout the sanitarium as Stan looks out the broken window.  The alarm wakes up the sleeping patients and brings security guards running into A block. 

            Pain fires up from Stan’s lower back and the world spins.  The hard linoleum floor rushes up to meet his face.  Sanitarium guards tackle and quickly hog-tie him.     

            “That asshole killed Todd!”  One of the guards yells out of Stan’s cell.  A bountiful supply of hard kicks and punches follow the grisly discovery of the dead guard.  Stan can see through Anatolios’s eyes as the vampire glides through the night sky over the city looking for his next victim.  A foot comes down on Stan’s head and he’s swimming in blackness. 

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

            Several hookers stand on a corner, talking.  A object falls on the ground in front of them. 

            “What’s this?” A male prostitute says as he bends down to pick it up.

            “It’s a top hat!” Exclaims one of the females.  The male steps back as the hat rises into the air.  A strange darkness swells up under the hat and takes human form.

            “Good evening.”  Anatolios says soothingly as he dramatically takes off his hat and bows to the surprised streetwalkers.