Original Blood

by Greene, Steve

  “Yes! Maybe… I don’t know. Um… My maiden name!” The woman was grasping at straws and seemed to find one to hold onto. “My maiden name is Phillips! I used to joke with your father that he should have taken my name when we got married just so he could introduce himself as Philip Phillips.”

  “You could have figured that one out with a little research.” Virginia didn’t plan on giving this woman any more time to explain. She wasn’t sure why she had given her as much time as she had. “I want you out!” She reached out to grab the woman, but she was too slow. The woman gently brushed Virginia’s hand out of the way and stepped back out of reach with casual grace.

  “Ginny, it was me last night. I came in and brought you Anna.”

  Virginia stopped dead in her tracks. No stranger could have known what she called her childhood doll. Not without intimate knowledge of the family.

  “In 1995, we went to the Grand Canyon and we lost your little sister for an hour-and-a-half. We were so scared. We looked everywhere for her only to find out she had walked back to the car and fallen asleep in the back seat.”

  “You couldn’t know that.” Virginia was dumbfounded. “There’s no way you could know about that!”

  “When you were in third grade, Betty Grogan used to bully you until the day Julia hit her in the face with her Hello Kitty lunchbox and split her lip.”

  “How could you?...” Virginia couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true! It wasn’t possible!

  She ran down the stairs with the woman hard on her heels.

  “Virginia, please!” The woman yelled, but Virginia wasn’t listening.

  She ran to the kitchen and grabbed a glass out of the cabinet. Filling it with water, she began chugging it down as fast as she could, hoping that the water could somehow wash away the fear and pain tightening in her gut. Her hand was shaking and the glass rattled against her teeth.

  She slammed the glass down on the counter and used both hands to support herself, feeling suddenly faint. She knew the woman was standing behind her, silent. Her mother was standing behind her. There was no other way for her to know those things. But her mother looked like she wasn’t a day over twenty-five. It just wasn’t possible!

  “How, Mom? I just don’t understand how? This stuff doesn’t happen in real life.”

  She felt her mother’s warm hand rest on her shoulder. It was strangely comforting despite the weirdness of the situation.

  “I don’t know. But I wish there weren’t any more to tell you. Unfortunately, there is.”

  Madeline did her best to keep her composure, little good that did. But she was able to tell Ginny everything. She was even able to confess to the murders. That was the hardest part. By the end, they were both crying and holding hands, Ginny, glad to have her mother back, and her mother, happy to be welcomed back at all.

  “But Ginny, you need to understand, something is going on. Those things, like what attacked me…” She paused for a moment before adding in a hushed tone, “like what I am,” then proceeded, “are out there. Lots of them. I can feel them. It’s like they’re all trying to make more of themselves. Like they’re trying to take over.”

  Virginia got a far away look in her eye and shuddered. “Oh no. No, no no.” She said.

  “What, Ginny? What’s wrong?”

  “Julia’s bus, Mom. It was attacked by wild animals the same night you were attacked. A bunch of people were killed and she is one of many that are missing! Do you think?..” She trailed off.

  “Oh, God. Not Jules. No, no.” Madeline felt her world spinning. She got to her feet and began pacing nervously. “Where’s your father?”

  “Out looking for Julia.”

  “Where was the bus when it was attacked?”

  “I’m not sure. Somewhere outside of Rockford.”

  “And he’s there now?” Madeline asked as the phone began to ring.

  Virginia picked up the receiver and looked at the caller ID. “It’s Dad.” She said.

  “Don’t tell him I’m here.” Madeline blurted out. “Not, yet.”

  Virginia nodded and answered the call. “Dad.” She said into the phone receiver. “Any news?” Virginia’s eyes drooped, obviously disappointed. “So are you coming home? I… I need you here.” Philip’s voice was just loud enough to be a discernable muffle coming from the phone. “Okay, I’ll see you in a couple hours. I love you.” Virginia hung up the phone.

  “He’s coming home?” Madeline asked.

  Virginia just nodded her head, lips downturned.

  “No sign of Julia?”

  Virginia shook her head as her hands fell to her lap. “I can’t do this, Mom. This is too much. First, we lose you, then we get you back, now Jules?”

  Madeline knelt down next to her and looked deep into her eyes. “Yes, Honey, you can. We can. And we will. We’ll go find Julia together if we have to.”

  “I wish I could feel as positive as you do.” Tears rimmed Ginny’s eyes and she leaned forward to embrace her mother.

  Madeline held her for a long while when suddenly, Madeline’s nostrils flared open wide as Virginia’s scent flooded in. Her mind was drunk with thirst and her mouth thickened with saliva. She inhaled deeply. Virginia’s scent was intoxicating. Madeline’s eyes rolled back in her head and her lips parted, ready to bite. She forced Virginia out to arms length and tore away from her grasp just as she felt she could no longer fight the urge. Madeline stormed off towards the kitchen.

  Virginia got up from the couch and followed her. “Mom? What’s wrong?” She called out. “Mom!”

  Madeline stopped in the center of the kitchen with her back still facing her daughter. She couldn’t turn around. She couldn’t bear to see the fear, the disappointment on her daughter’s face.

  “Was it me, Mom? Were you about to bite me?”

  Madeline didn’t have to look at Virginia to hear the disgust in her voice.

  “I…” Madeline grasped for answers but there was nothing. “Sometimes I struggle to control it.” She said in a whisper.

  “Oh, God.” Virginia sounded like she was going to be sick.

  “I just need to go.” Madeline said and shot out of the kitchen without looking back. She ran to the attic stairs and climbed up, pulling them shut behind her, she crawled into her cold, dark corner.

  Virginia chased her mother all the way to the attic but the trap door in the ceiling was clicking shut just as she rounded the corner. She plopped down on the floor where she had waited earlier with her father’s shotgun in hand. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her right arm around them, hugging them close. Her left hand came up and subconsciously pulled her collar tighter around her throat.

  It didn’t take long before her head leaned back against the wall and she nodded off to sleep.

  Asleep, on the floor, in the hallway upstairs, is where her father found her when he got home. Philip helped her up and dragged her to bed. Exhausted from a long day of searching for his youngest daughter, a day no parent wanted, he collapsed on the bed next to her, took her hand in both of his, and fell asleep.

  Virginia woke with a start and sat up in bed. She woke up her dad who sat up next to her.

  “You alright?” He asked her.

  She shivered and wrapped her arms tightly about her sides. She wasn’t cold. “Dad. I have to tell you something, but you’re not going to believe me.”

  “What? What is it?”

  “Mom. It’s about Mom.”

  Her father hesitated, then swallowed audibly. “What about your mother, Ginny.”

  “She’s here, Dad.”

  “Well of course she’s here, Hon. She’s all around us.”

  “No, Dad. I’m mean, she’s here, quite literally. She’s in the attic, but there’s more.”

  “Woah, woah.” Philip butted in. “Ginny, wherever you’re going with this, I need to tell you it isn’t funny. Not in the least.”

  “I’m not trying to be funny, Dad. I’m serious. Whatever attacked her t
he other day, it didn’t kill her. The hospital made a mistake. She’s upstairs hiding in the attic.”

  “Really? The attic? Well by all means, let’s go up and see, shall we?” Her father chided. He got up from the bed and stormed towards the hallway.

  “No, Dad. Don’t!” Virginia yelled and chased after him.

  In the hallway, her father was already pulling down and unfolding the attic stairs.

  “Dad stop!” Virginia yelled and grabbed his arm.

  He shook free of her grasp and gave her a long stare. “Come on, Ginny. Let’s go up and see Mom.” He marched up the stairs to the attic.

  Madeline heard shouting and suddenly the attic stairs were open and early morning sunlight was seeping into the attic. She crawled deeper into the crevasse she had been sleeping in as the light in the attic made her heart race and her body warm.

  It was Philip. He had come home and now he was coming up to the attic to investigate. Ginny must have told him about her. She kept her head low in the darkness and watched Philip enter the attic and look around slowly, then throw up his hands. Ginny followed sheepishly behind him.

  “See? No one here.”

  “But she was here, Dad! I swear!”

  “You know what, fine. We just need some light up here. Watch.” Philip trudged over to the attic vent that Madeline had been using to get in and out of the attic for the last couple days and threw it open.

  Bright sunlight flew across the room and hit Madeline squarely in the face, blinding her. But worse, her skin began to heat up uncontrollably. Smoke spewed from her fingers and face. She screamed.

  Some inhuman scream erupted from the far end of the attic and both Philip and Ginny jumped back and nearly fell over from fright. Her mother was screaming. At least it looked like her mother. But the woman’s skin was rapidly turning a charred black and smoke was pouring from her skin. Neither Virginia nor Philip moved to help. They were both completely dumbstruck with horror. By the time her mother’s face burst into flames, her father was finally moving towards her with an old blanket.

  The pain was immense. Madeline screamed. She heard Philip yelling and felt something wrap around her. Hands were beating her, patting at her, dousing the flames, but the pain remained. In a flash, she was off of her feet as she felt Philip sweep her into his arms. He was running. She could hear his heart racing. Felt the sink of him powering down the stairs, down from the attic. Now, there were two sets of hands carrying her but she barely felt anything past the pain that riddled her body. The flames were out but the burning seemed to get worse instead of better. She heard a door fly open and she was set down in a bathtub. She heard running water and an ice-cold chill ran over her feet. The blankets were removed and Philip’s face went white when he saw her. He barked something to Ginny about ice and towels.

  “I don’t know who you are, but please hold on. You’re going to be alright. I’ll call an ambulance.” Philip said.

  “No ambulance!” She screamed through the pain. He retorted but she couldn’t focus on the pain and him at the same time. It felt like an eternity before Ginny returned. “Ginny, no ambulance!” She screamed again.

  “Dad, she’s right, we can’t call an ambulance.” Virginia said as she gave something to Philip and he spread it across Maddie’s face and head. It was a towel, dripping with ice cold water. Initially the shock was so great, it hurt more. But after a few seconds, the pain subsided slightly. Relief, albeit only slightly, was welcome.

  She stayed that way until the pain returned. Philip removed the towel from around her face and she felt a tugging sensation. She looked in horror as the towel he removed held the skin of her own eyeless face, staring back at her. She screamed again, and again… and again.

  Chapter 9

  The carpeting was rough against his cheek. There was a dark stain under his mouth where a mixture of drool and something else had blackened the carpet. His teeth felt like they had grown fur overnight and he licked at his lips and gums in disbelief. He tried to stand but quickly fell to his knees while his gut did somersaults. Charlie ran to the bathroom to empty his stomach in the toilet but there was nothing in it. He heaved repeatedly to no avail. The last thing he remembered was wrestling with the intruders in his apartment. He remembered something else, too; polished wingtip shoes and a name. Dannus.

  Charlie stumbled back into the living room and looked around. Nothing seemed to be missing or even moved. His gun was lying on the floor. It must have fallen out sometime during the struggle. He picked the gun up and slid it into his waistband, trying to clear his mind, but everything jumbled together in chaotic flashes of blurred memories. He wondered if this was how crazy people saw the world.

  He went to his bedroom and found nothing wrong there, either. Could he have dreamed the whole thing? Was that even possible? He couldn’t even find any signs of forced entry. He put his gun down on the nightstand and went to the bathroom once more to take a quick shower hoping the warm water would jog his memory. He jumped at every foreign sound he heard, sliding the shower curtain back in panic, expecting Freddy Krueger or Jason Vorhees, or some other nineteen-eighties horror movie reject to be standing on the other side with some type of deadly object in hand.

  Still feeling like he walked in a drug induced haze, he got out of the shower, dried off, and got dressed. He made some coffee and turned on the news, hoping that would get him out of the miasma that still gripped him. He stood at the kitchen counter stirring his coffee while the news went on in the background. The “Breaking News” music came on and his interest piqued. Sipping his coffee, he turned towards the television and leaned in to listen closer.

  A slender, pretty, though slightly disheveled reporter standing in front of a gray brick building began to speak into her microphone after her introduction. “Thanks, John.” She said. “A man, now known to us as Jerod Daniels, came to the St. Mary’s ER last night complaining of an injury he had received in a fight. After waiting several hours for treatment, Daniels apparently became enraged and savagely attacked several nurses and patients in the ER, kicking, biting, and beating them. He was eventually shot to death by police, but not before injuring twelve people, and killing 6 others, including two police officers. This tragedy comes at a bad time for a police department still on the ropes after two police officers entered a home on the North side shortly before it burned…” Charlie let the sound of the news report fall away from him. Two dead police officers? He got up and ran to the phone. The answering machine was lit up with twelve messages. Twelve? He played the messages, praying there was nothing about anyone he knew from the police department. The first was the union rep from the department. The second was from Maggie. Tank was doing well and she hoped to hear from Charlie soon. The third was a telemarketer. The fourth, an angry message from the LT about, “Where the hell are you?”, or something like that. He began to listen for only a second on each to see if they were what he was looking for. Finally, he got to the last message.

  “Charlie… This is Sergeant Teegs. I wish you’d pick up… Listen, I’m really sorry about Al. Al was one of the best cops I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. Jesus, I’m sorry. Call me as soon as you can.”

  The vaguely female computer voice came on and announced the date. “Thursday, March 14th.”

  Al? No, God, no! Not Al! He fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone. Six missed calls? Five messages? How long was I out? He wondered.

  “Wait, the 14th? Two days? I’ve been asleep for two days?” Suddenly his head was pounding an uncertain rhythm. He pressed the heels of his hands to each throbbing temple and his skewing vision refocused. “No. This can’t be true. This can’t be happening.” He glanced at his cell phone, looking for the date. March 14th. “No.” Had the intruders given him a drug of some kind? No time to think about that now. He hit the button on the phone to show him who made the calls he had missed. They were all from Serena.

  He called her back without bothering to listen to the voice mails. He had to leave
her a voice mail of his own. He called Al’s phone, but got no answer there, either. He grabbed his car keys, jacket, and the gun from his nightstand.

  In the background, the news continued, “…police have been swamped with steadily increasing reports of attacks, missing persons, and prowlers.” Charlie looked out his front window and saw an abandoned car crashed into a tree.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  He walked to his car at a brisk pace until pain shot through his lower abdomen like a hot knife and he doubled over with a groan. The bullet wound in his hip had lost the painful click he had grown accustomed to, but now it burned with such ferocity that he actually felt under his belt to make sure he wasn’t bleeding. The wound felt as fresh as the day he got it. After a few long moments, the pain subsided and he was able to stand and walk again, albeit, with a bit of a hitch in his step.

  He got into his car and drove towards the Vasquez’s house. The roads were strangely vacant. Only a few cars were on the road and many of the small businesses he passed looked like they were closed.

  When he arrived at the Vasquez house, he steeled himself. Al and Serena had been the closest thing he had had to a family after his father passed away. The thought of talking about Al’s death turned his insides. He couldn’t even think about it but it had to be done. He took a deep breath and tried to choke back tears. He refused to believe that Al was gone. No one had said he was dead, yet. He wouldn’t believe it until he heard it from Serena’s lips.

  He stood in front of the modest, white ranch that Al and Serena had saved up for. He was one of the first people to see it when they were looking for a home. Al had driven past it one night while they were on patrol together. He would say, “There it is, Brother! That’s the house I’m gonna raise my family in!” He was so proud. He and Serena had been life-long renters until the strong buyers’ market had made too inviting an offer for him to refuse.