When Darkness Comes

by Wilbanks, G. Allen

  I nodded slowly. I had considered my family during the hours I spent alone with my thoughts. I had earlier come to the same conclusion. Everyone I had previously known would be better off believing I had died. I could not risk them noticing any differences in my behavior or appearance. And it would be very difficult to explain to people I knew why I suddenly could not participate in any activities that involved going out in daylight. It was easier to simply disappear.

  I was a little disappointed about losing my stuff, though.

  “Don’t worry,” Andi continued, as if reading my mind. “I have some of your clothes packed, and we can buy other things you may need. We will unfortunately have to leave your bank account untouched. If it were suddenly emptied, someone might notice and figure out that you are still alive. That would be very bad considering what I have already done. Oh well,” she said with one of her tight-lipped smiles, “I don’t imagine there was very much in it, anyway. Are you ready to leave?”

  “Like this?” I held out my arms to let her have a good look at my condition. I desperately needed a bath. Dirt and dried blood had caked onto me and I looked like, well … like something that had crawled out of a grave. “Don’t you think I might draw attention?”

  “There is a farm house a half mile away. No one lives there, but it has running water. We will clean you up there. Are you prepared to look at the moon?”

  I was.

  I followed Andi hesitantly to the crypt door, eager to leave but still frightened of the moonlight. I vividly recalled the fire that had raced over my body and the sensation of burning. I did not want a repeat performance of that event. But I wanted to be outside, to stand under an open sky and feel free again, instead of locked up with nothing but four dirt walls defining my entire world. So I braced myself, and with the determination of a condemned man marching up to the gallows, stepped out into the open. The light touched me, and … nothing. No pain. No fire. The pale light that had once nearly killed me now bathed me harmlessly, as though it had never posed any threat to me at all. It embraced me, welcoming and encouraging. I threw my arms wide, turned my face up to the brilliant full moon and laughed.

  I stood, basking in my new freedom; whirling slowly with my arms outstretched like some bit-part actor in a stage musical. Andi stood quietly, permitting my childish display for a minute or so before finally grabbing my hand out of impatience and pulling me along behind her. “Come on, you,” she said, not unkindly. “You will have plenty of time to stand naked in cemeteries and howl at the moon after you’re clean.”

  “Do you promise?” I asked, still a little giddy with the realization that I could be outdoors again.

  “Moron,” she muttered.

  I laughed again.

  Andi shook her head and muttered a few more choice words under her breath. I did not catch them all, but the ones I heard were similar to the first. I didn’t care. It felt too good to be out of that dungeon.

  At first, I thought we were going to find her car and drive to the abandoned farm house, but Andi had other plans. I don’t know if she thought it was too close to bother driving, or if she could not stand the idea of allowing me, filthy as I was, to sit next to her in a small enclosed space. Whichever it was, we headed east, rather than west toward the roadway. We walked for what I estimated to be about half an hour before I saw the farm house she had mentioned rising up on the horizon. It sat on top of a small hill, framed by two large oak trees. The structure was rather small, more of a cabin than an actual house, but it looked wonderfully inviting to one who had spent several weeks sleeping in a dirt hole.

  Drawing nearer, I could see that the building was well maintained. Andi said no one lived there, yet it did not appear abandoned. The roof, walls, and wooden porch all looked sturdy and solid. The façade had been whitewashed rather than painted, but I saw no cracking or obvious weather damage that would indicate neglect. The windows all held intact glass, and I could even see curtains hanging on the inside. Other than the lack of light from inside or any visible smoke from the chimney, there was nothing that would indicate to an outside observer that the home was vacant.

  Once we reached the front porch, I felt the urge to knock or otherwise announce our presence, but Andi calmly grasped the front door handle and pushed. It was unlocked and swung open smoothly and silently. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at me, then stepped across the threshold. I followed her inside.

  The interior was as welcoming as the exterior. A sofa and several chairs in excellent repair – and looking to be quite comfortable – lined one wall of the front room. I was tempted to sit down on the sofa to see if it was as soft as it appeared, but fear of getting such nice furniture filthy kept me on my feet. The entire place was not large, but what room did exist was well used. The entry way and family room led into the kitchen and a small dining area. Beyond that, a hallway took us back to a pair of bedrooms. Hardwood flooring had been laid throughout the house and though my bare feet made no noise, the solid heels of Andi’s boots made a satisfying thunk-thunk that echoed off the walls as she walked down the hallway. Her footsteps went silent as she stepped into the carpeted bedroom to the right, and again I followed her in.

  “Should we turn on a light?” I asked. “Do they even work?”

  “They work,” she replied, dropping the clothes in her hands – my clothes from the floor of the crypt – onto a queen-sized bed that dominated most of the room. She turned to face me. “Do you feel like you need the light? Are you having difficulty seeing?”

  I glanced around the room. To my surprise I realized that I actually had no difficulty whatsoever seeing Andi or anything else in this house, despite the fact that I knew it should be too dark to see anything clearly. I could even make out colors in the gloom, which should have been impossible. But there in front of me was a pale green bedspread on the bed, lacey white pillows with green and red rose patterns twining across them, and a green carpet with dark gold highlights, all as obvious to my eyes as if I were standing in full daylight.

  “No,” I said with more than a little wonder in my voice. “I guess I’m not.”

  “Then go take a nice hot shower and I’ll hang out here until you’re done.” She pointed to a doorway that led from the bedroom into the master bathroom.

  I gladly did as I was told.

  The bathroom, like the rest of the house, was small but well laid out. A single sink with limited counter space took up one corner, and the toilet had been plumbed next to it. There was only bare wall and a small wooden medicine chest mounted above the sink, and I wondered for a moment why there was no mirror anywhere in the little room. I shrugged and figured that with the way I looked right now it was probably for the best that I couldn’t see myself.

  Opposite the sink and toilet was the real reason I had come in anyway. With a space too small to fit a full sized shower and bathtub, the owners had installed a narrow, shower stall with just enough room for an average adult to move around without banging elbows and knees into the walls. Two walls of the shower were glass, allowing full view of the stall, and giving the bathroom the illusion of having more space. The rest was tiled with a yellow and white, checkerboard pattern from floor to ceiling. Mounted on one of the tile-lined walls was a massive round shower head above two chrome plated handles. I pulled open the glass door, reached in and turned the chrome handle marked with an “H.”

  Water spat and hissed for a moment before pouring out of the shower head in a wonderful, heavy spray. No low-flow, water saving plumbing for this house, I thought gratefully. I was going to need all the help I could get washing weeks of accumulated grime off of my skin, and this looked like it just might be able to get the job done. I had to wait only a few seconds before the water heated up and the glass began to fog from the steam. I stepped into the warm deluge and pulled the door shut behind me.

  The hot water on my body made me want to never leave the tiny shower stall. Not only did I enjoy the opportunity to be clean again, which was a remark
able feeling all on its own, but the warmth of the water felt so good on my chilled skin I did not ever want to give it up. Although cold did not seem to affect me adversely in my new incarnation as the walking dead, I decidedly preferred a warm environment. I was like a lizard searching for a sun-warmed rock, unable to generate warmth on my own and having to seek it from external sources.

  A soap dish had been affixed onto the tile lining one wall of the shower, and I washed with a bar of soap I found lying in the dish. It took a while to clean the accumulated layers of dirt from my hair and body, but I was reasonably pleased with the end results. When I felt clean enough to rejoin the world, I set down the soap, then just stood motionless under the spray from the showerhead, soaking in the warmth of the scalding liquid cascading across my body.

  Although the thought briefly flitted through my mind, I knew I couldn’t remain in that stall forever. All things must end eventually, even if we might wish otherwise. After about twenty minutes submerged in that glorious, steaming, hot water, I decided it was time to get out. Reluctantly, I shut the water off, opened the narrow door of the stall, and stepped out. I found a towel waiting for me on the bathroom counter and I used it to wipe myself dry. I noted again that there was no mirror on the wall above the sink and wondered briefly if it had been removed or if one had never been installed in the first place. I did not dwell overly long on its absence.

  When I had removed the majority of the clinging moisture, I dropped the towel to the floor and stepped out of the bathroom to look for Andi. I did not feel any need to use the towel to cover myself. After all, I had just spent most of the past month naked in front of Andi. There was nothing left to hide from her. However, when I walked into the adjoining bedroom I must admit my complete surprise at finding her also stripped bare.

  She was as glorious in her nudity as I remembered, and I found myself instantly aroused.

  “So, are you showering next?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant despite my obvious physical reaction. “Because I think I used all the hot water. You may want to wait a few minutes.

  “No, to both. I am not showering and I do not want to wait.”

  She glided forward and pressed herself against me, her hands sliding around my waist. Her head tilted back so she could look up into my face; the smile on her lips inviting me in for a kiss. I obliged. I moved to press my own lips to hers, but an instant before they touched, she whispered, “Don’t bite.”

  I jerked my head back, blinking stupidly in my confusion. “Huh?” I asked, trying to decode the cryptic two word statement.

  “You are going to be tempted to bite, and I am giving you fair warning: Don’t.”

  With no more to say, Andi wrestled me onto the bed and climbed on top of me, straddling my hips with her long muscular legs. The feel of her skin on mine was like smooth satin stroking my exposed flesh, and if my heart could still beat it would have been racing in my chest. She covered my mouth with hers, and at that point all opportunity to think passed. Now, I could only exist in the moment as my body reacted to the stimulus of her touch.

  Sex with Andi on this occasion was as wild and passionate as on our previous encounters. However, where our past experiences seemed to always be a sprint to finish, this time it was a marathon event. We did not grow tired and felt no need to stop, even upon climax. Each orgasm simply rolled into a quest for the next. Andi was insatiable, and I matched her step for step.

  Our lovemaking was fierce and frenzied. At times it felt more like a contest of wills than a joining of them. Andi and I thrashed across the small bed as we each in turn struggled for dominance in an act that should have been about sharing and surrender. But Andi could never surrender, and now that I had the strength to match her, neither would I. Instead we fought for control as we each in turn battled to take our pleasure from the other.

  I realized during our lovemaking how much restraint she must have had to previously exercise when we had been together in order not to pulp the fragile human in her arms. As she crushed me against her now with complete abandon, I could feel the strength in her and I knew how easily she could have broken bones or burst organs were I still merely mortal. It perhaps explained the brief flash of irritation I observed in her face so many weeks ago when I first ordered her into my bed: she may have been wondering if she were going to accidentally kill me.

  I pinned her face down in the sheets, grabbed a handful of her long, silky hair, and used my body weight to keep her from moving away from me. I entered her from behind and gasped as I thrust myself into her with abandon over and over. I kissed her bare shoulder as I pushed myself toward fulfillment, then I let me teeth rake against the skin of her neck. I felt the heat of friction between our bodies and smelled the musk of our sex, and it drove me to a point of need I had only recently come to know. Suddenly, just sex was not enough. I wanted to taste Andi; to bite into her pale flesh and take from her more than mere physical pleasure.

  As if reading my thoughts, Andi tensed underneath me. I heard a low growl start in her throat and she uttered a single rasping word: “Don’t.”

  Instantly, I came back to myself. Andi jerked an arm back, striking me in the ribs with her elbow. She used the momentum of her strike to roll over, throwing me off of her and sending me tumbling off of the bed. I sprawled onto the floor, landing flat on my back. Before I could move, Andi pounced off of the bed after me, landing on top of me. Her hands pinned my shoulders to the floor and she slid her legs to either side of me; her hips once more straddling mine. She reached between her legs to find and grasp my rapidly deflating member. As she began to stroke me back to firmness she said, “Where do you think you’re going?” Her voice was still low, but now more filled with lust than anger. “We are nowhere near done.”

  Andi shifted her hips to more easily move me back inside her, and our war resumed.

  There were several more moments that night as I kissed and licked every inch of her delectable body that I was sorely tempted to bite; to bury my teeth deep into her flesh and taste the saltiness of her blood. But, I refrained. More from fear than self-control, I confess. I imagine she felt similar urges and I resolved that if she could restrain this impulse, then so would I. Besides, she had already stressed the point quite clearly, and I did not want to find out what repercussions might await for any failure to follow her instructions.

  Two hours passed. Two energetic, wonderful hours. When we finally stopped, we separated through mutual agreement rather than any need for recuperation. I felt fully satisfied and relaxed as we lay back on the bed. I like to believe she did as well. A soft sigh escaped her, and I took that as a good sign. Well pleased with the night’s activities and content to rest and enjoy the afterglow, I still knew that had Andi wished it, I could continue indefinitely. At least until the sun came up the next morning and put an end to it.

  I laughed quietly to myself as a thought hit me.

  “Something funny?” asked Andi, still lying peacefully on her back with her eyes closed.

  “I just realized you let me finish inside of you,” I answered. “A lot.”

  “I’m aware of that. In fact, I’m aware that we have made quite a mess of these sheets. So, what’s your point?”

  “Last time you said it seemed like such a waste. What changed?”

  Andi raised herself up on one elbow to look at me. “You did,” she said simply. “Vampire seed is … different. Not as pleasant as human. Besides,” she said, sitting up and climbing out of the bed, “I needed the sex today much more than I needed the snack.”

  Standing up and walking around the bed, Andi stretched luxuriously, arms reaching high above her. I watched the motion of her body with rapt attention, beginning to wonder if perhaps one more round might not be such a bad idea. Again reading my mind, or perhaps just seeing the look on my face, she strolled back over to me. Her hips swayed provocatively as she moved slowly and deliberately toward me. Standing next to me, she leaned over, patted my head with one hand and kissed me lightly on
the cheek.

  “I think we waited long enough for me to have some hot water. I’m going to jump in the shower. Why don’t you get dressed, Gregory. I put some clean clothes on the dresser for you.” She gestured to the table behind her and I saw a pile of neatly folded clothing.

  “I ended up just tossing your old stuff in the fireplace and getting rid of them. They just weren’t worth keeping. As soon as I get out of the shower, we are going to find a more permanent home, so be ready to move. We won’t have a lot of time.”

  She turned and stepped into the bathroom. My eyes automatically dropped to watch her taut round bottom disappear through the doorway. A moment later I heard the water turn on in the shower. I sighed and rolled out of bed. For the first time in a month, I got dressed.

  CHAPTER 9

  A single-story office building with the name “Darius Metallics” painted across the front eaves became our next refuge. The name seemed legitimate, but still sounded obscure enough that no casual passersby were likely to walk in off the street with a mind to browse. A local chapter of the Friends of the Night owned and maintained the building. They designed it specifically for the needs of the night stalkers such as Andi and me. The structure had no windows, and each of the three doors could be securely bolted from the inside. Built exclusively of metal, bricks, and concrete, fire could not harm the building or any inhabitants choosing to spend the day inside. In addition to these precautions, several rooms provided access to underground chambers for those preferring to be below ground level.

  When we arrived, Andi repeated the odd sniffing routine I had first observed in the graveyard, then she spat in front of each door. She saw my confused look and explained that by biting her cheek and spitting blood in the entryways, another vampire would smell her presence and know to stay away. Vampires are territorial and do not share their lairs normally without good reason to do so. Andi only kept me around because she had a vested interest in my survival. I took a long, slow breath in through my nose and realized that I could indeed detect the dull musky scent of Andi’s blood in the doorway. It was an effective warning.