Rivals

by Claudia Silva

  After a few minutes of self-reflection, she said without thinking, “I had never seen a dead man before.”

  This had made Erik scoff, saying, “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, Brigman?”

  Viola looked away from the road to look at her partner’s profile with an uncertain smile; it was then that she noticed something must be terribly wrong with him. Without giving it another thought, she raised her left hand until she was touching his cheek.

  Erik quickly swatted her away, a silent curse was spoken, “What the hell Brigman?”, but it was too late; Viola had touched enough to know his cold, clammy skin meant trouble. She had seen people like him before and she was almost certain Erik belonged to this specific group of people.

  “You don’t look well, sweetie,” she told him in her most cautious tone.

  Erik squirmed at being called ‘sweetie’ yet didn’t give her a sarcastic remark in return, instead, he announced it was time for lunch. Turning the car violently, he found a cheap diner and parked the car in front of it.

  Viola followed, now worried and concerned. If what she suspected was true, there may be an easy way to get rid of Peterson once she was ready to work without him.

  For now, she said nothing and simply followed him to the diner where he almost collided with the waitress as she was coming to take their order. The woman in the pink dress and dirty white apron dropped her pen as she tried to avoid the tall man from bumping into her as he walked hurriedly towards the men’s room.

  “Hot tea,” Erik slurred behind him loud enough for the waitress to hear. Urgently, he entered the bathroom. Viola and the waitress exchanged glances before beginning to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  12:55 p.m.

  Erik Peterson’s hands were trembling as he hung onto the old, yet clean sink in the diner’s restroom. It was a small room with a one-toilet stall. He needed nothing more. Carefully, he moved his shaking hand to his coat and, taking the small syringe out, he looked at it vehemently. The thick yellow liquid waited behind the small glass cylinder, taunting him. It was a necessary evil, the one thing that separated him from the rest of the human population. Without it, he was-

  There was no time to waste. The nosy Viola was probably outside wondering what his bizarre behavior was about; the woman may always look cheerful, but he could see into her soul. Viola Brigman was not someone to take lightly. He had known enough people like her to be familiar with her kind. She would smile, compliment and then stab you in the back.

  With the syringe safe on top of the sink, Erik took his jacket off and readied his arm. Every single muscle ached like a thousand needles; a pain he knew he would never accept as normal. Closing and opening his fist repeatedly, he took the syringe with his free hand and injected the liquid into his body.

  The pain came again through gritted teeth. A peep from him would alert his new partner something was wrong, so he did his best to remain quiet. Whatever he did, he could not let her see him like this.

  “Boy, no wonder you’re always in a crappy mood,” Viola’s voice came from behind him. He had forgotten to lock the bathroom door. “Does the captain know?” Erik didn’t answer, he was too stunned for words. Viola rested one shoulder on the bathroom’s open door. How had he made a mistake as big as not locking the stupid door? “I bet he doesn’t, does he? He doesn’t know his most wonderful detective is a junkie.”

  “It’s not what is seems,” Erik began. It was Viola’s turn to roll her eyes as she let the door go, disappearing from view. “Wait,” Erik began, the pain still lingering in his arm. “Viola.”

  By the time he managed to get out of the bathroom, Viola was sitting quietly in the table of her choice, a glass of cold iced tea, probably sweetened, in front of her.

  “Have you tried to quit?” Viola began once Erik was sitting opposite her. “Mmh? Have you?”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  Viola chuckled, unimpressed. “Of course it isn’t. It never is.”

  “It’s not what it seems, I-“

  “Then you shouldn’t have a problem if we tell the captain.”

  “I’m a diabetic,” Erik finally blurted out.

  Viola stopped in her tracks. Her next snappy comment gone in a flash. “Oh,” she said, “You are?”

  “If I don’t do what you just saw, I could die.”

  “You could?” Watching her guilty face gave him pleasure. He now had the upper hand again.

  There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

  “Just.. forget about it,” Erik said, “you couldn’t have known.”

  “No, I didn’t know,” whispered Viola, still showing how embarrassed she was for having misjudged him.

  “Listen,” Erik began, “it’s clear we started on the wrong foot. Let’s have lunch and then we’ll go talk to Mr. Lowosky’s brother. All right? How does that sound” Viola nodded quietly, the fact that he was actually being nice to her went completely over her head. “Why don’t you tell me about your family? Are you married?”

  “No, single,” she replied, still ashamed of having judged him prematurely, no doubt.

  “A shame,” he said. For a moment even he believed he was just another citizen of the world. Whatever it took to keep her mind of the syringe. Whatever it took to keep her from finding out he wasn’t really a diabetic.

  4:00 p.m.

  “Did you see his shoes?” Erik was saying after having questioned a very frightened Mr. Edward Lowosky, brother to the deceased Raymond Lowosky.

  “Adidas?” Viola took a guess. Clearly, she had no idea the shoes were supposed to be important.

  “They have the same sand we found on Mr. Lowosky’s shoes. The red sand. On the victim?” Viola looked totally oblivious to what he was saying. Trying to remain calm, Erik elaborated. “There’s a factory a few blocks from here. They make tile… or they used to make it. I have a hunch we need to check it out.”

  “Why?”

  “I just do,” Erik told her, although deep inside he wanted to strangle his captain for having paired him up with a clearly incompetent woman. “Are you coming?”

  Viola nodded and was quickly behind him, no questions asked.

  4:25 p.m.

  Peterson parked the car in front of the abandoned factory. The old building looked like it had been built half a century ago, the metallic frame had completely rusted and half the glass on the windows was gone. The rain had stopped, but the grounds were still filled with puddles and streamed down from the walls.

  “This place looks creepy,” the new Detective Brigman mentioned as the engine died.

  “My kind of place,” Peterson said.

  “Right.”

  They both exited the car together. It would still be a few hours before sunset. The place looked abandoned, it was in the middle of a crowded neighborhood, yet Viola did not feel safe. It was as if she could feel something was wrong.

  “I’m going in.”

  “Wait-“

  It was too late, Peterson was already climbing through a broken window. Taking a deep breath, Viola reluctantly followed.

  The inside of the factory looked just like a big warehouse. Whatever machinery had once been state-of-the art was now falling apart just by looking at it. As the skies cleared, a few sun rays began to come in through the windows illuminating the room partially.

  “What are we looking for?” Viola asked, trying to think of an excuse to leave. It was then that she turned to look at her partner. Erik Peterson was looking at something in front of him intently. “What is it?”

  Viola was right to be concerned.

  “Don’t move,” her partner whispered without moving a muscle.

  Slowly, Viola turned to look at what Erik was staring at. In front of them, a pair of bright green eyes were looking back at them.

  “What the heck is that?” Viola asked; terror slowly rising in her voice.

  “I think we found our killer.” Then, “Don’t make any sudden movements.”
>
  Almost as if she had heard the opposite, Viola turned to run. In her haste, she didn’t notice a metallic coil on the floor. Tripping on it, she loudly fell on the ground; her ankle now bleeding.

  “Shit,” was all Erik could say. Viola saw him take his gun out just as some kind of creature jumped from the shadows. The monster was white, tall and hairless. It was also completely naked. His small green eyes shone in the darkness, his nose but two small holes over his wide fanged mouth.

  The Vampire.

  It was clear the monster had smelled her blood, it didn’t take Viola long to figure that out. It was Erik’s gun that distracted the monster enough to lose focus.

  “Shoot it, Viola!” Erik yelled. He shot the beast two, three more times. The bullets did nothing but enrage the monster further. “Shoot it!” Erik repeated.

  Viola was frozen with fear. She heard her name, but couldn’t make sense of anything else. She was looking at a monster out of a fairy tale. It was impossible.

  “Viola!”

  Instead of taking her gun out, Viola ran away. The pain on her ankle forgotten, a trail of blood behind her.

  “Viola! Wait! You have to help me! Shoot it!”

  The monster growled, Erik pleaded, she ran.

  And ran. And ran. She ran until she reached Peterson’s car jump-starting it with trembling hands. The car’s engine started and she drove away. There wasn’t anything else Viola cared about anymore. She didn’t care about the job, she didn’t care about the department and she didn’t care that she had left her partner behind. What she had seen would be in her nightmares until she died. In fact, all she wanted was to be back home, asleep in her bed, maybe then she would wake up to find it had all been just a bad dream.

  Becoming a detective was not a job worth dying for.

  4:30 p.m.

  Erik Peterson watched his new partner abandon him to his death, he heard the engine start outside and the wheels run over the rocky ground as Viola fled.

  The monster soon forgot about the blood and was once again facing its shooter. Erik knew it was just the two of them inside an old factory in the middle of a neighborhood who had no idea what was going on.

  It was pointless to keep shooting, the bullets were scarce and useless against the beast. Even if the odds looked against the detective to an outsider, Erik Peterson dropped his gun and smiled.

  “Finally alone,” he told the beast.

  With a sprint, Erik closed the distance between them. Jumping higher than a regular human could, Erik kicked the monster’s head with one foot, making it fly to the other side of the factory. The monster landed on his face, Erik landed on all fours, and when he opened his eyes, they were red. From his mouth, two long sharp fangs had sprouted.

  “Come and get it, big boy,” the words came out from between his long fangs.

  In front of him, the beast struggled to get up. Once, it had looked menacing, ready to attack; now, it looked afraid.

  WHO ARE YOU? Erik heard a voice in his head.

  Instead of a reply, Erik jumped at the monster again, this time, punching him in the face and sending him flying through the air again. The beast landed next to a window, the sun’s rays quickly began to burn his skin.

  With a growl, the monster hastened to move away.

  STOP, the beast sent another telepathic cry, one that Erik chose to ignore, as well. With confidence, Erik walked across the factory, almost showing off his invulnerability to the sun. WHO ARE YOU? The beast asked again, crouching in terror.

  “Who am I?” Erik finally replied, “Who are you? I have never in my life seen anything as ugly as you!”

  THERE ARE FEW OF US.

  “There will be even less once I’m done with you.”

  I FED TO SURVIVE. NOTHING MORE. IT HAD TO BE DONE.

  “Ah,” Erik said through his fangs, “Excuses, excuses,” Erik continued, “Unfortunately I can’t allow you into my territory. You understand, I’m sure.”

  YOU ARE A VAMPIRE.

  “I am.”

  LIKE ME.

  “Not like you. Better.” Erik kept shortening the distance between them slowly, as if savoring the monster’s fear.

  THE SUN. IT DOES NOT HARM YOU.

  “Not anymore, it doesn’t. I am an immortal that can walk as a mortal man. That gives me an advantage over most. But enough talk. Are you ready to die?”

  PLEASE, it started.

  Erik moved faster than the eye could see. The beast did not see his hand piercing its skin, nor felt its heart leaving its chest. The weight of the creature fell on the ground with a thump behind Erik.

  Enjoying his victory, Erik licked the heart was now holding with his tongue. “Disgusting,” he said. The heart rolled on the ground when he let it go, catching fire as the sun’s rays reached it. The monster began to burn, too.

  The deadliest monster had been triumphant.

  9:15 p.m.

  The door rang at Viola’s apartment. Her heart sped up at the thought of who the visitor could be. She had made several guesses as to what would happen after she had run away from a real-life monster leaving her partner to die. Her favorite theory was that a couple of cops would show up to tell her the devastating news about a most unfortunate death.

  Another was that someone had tracked a fingerprint out of the car she had abandoned several blocks away, thus incriminating her in the crime of either murder, theft, or both.

  Of course, there was always the hope that nobody would care about the death of an absolute horrid human being such as Erik Peterson or his car.

  Although, being a detective practically ruled any scenario where nobody cared about him and his remains.

  She looked at herself in the mirror one last time, the face of absolute ignorance she had practiced all evening looked fantastic. Taking a few deep breaths, she looked through the peephole on her tiptoes.

  The most unexpected person was on the other side of the door.

  Erik Peterson, her partner, stood with his hands in his pants pockets looking undisturbed, as if he hadn’t just faced an eight-foot white monster a few hours before.

  What was she supposed to say? She had abandoned him in his hour of need. Not only that, she had assumed he would be torn to shreds all over that old factory at that very moment; his moment so unrecognizable no one would ever suspect what had happened.

  The doorbell rang again.

  “Coming!” she yelled nervously.

  “It’s me,” the man on the other side said, “Peterson.”

  Bringing one of her fake smiles to her face, Viola unlocked the door and opened it.

  “You’re okay,” was the first thing Viola said. Erik was smiling, he didn’t look at all like someone who had just faced the deadly fangs of an eight-foot vampire.

  “Hi, Viola.”

  Hearing his voice made relief fill her. “Oh, thank God! I called for reinforcements and the ambulance, but they said you weren’t there.” Lies. “I didn’t know what else to do, so I finally came home hoping you’d call or…”

  Erik just nodded, she wondered if he had believed what she’d just said. “Beast ran away. Scared of daylight, I imagined.” He was still standing outside, she hadn’t invited him in. “Is my car ok?”

  “Yes, yes. I brought it… it’s-it’s close by.”

  “Good,” another reassuring smile from Detective Peterson. “Mind if I come in?”

  Viola stood hesitantly for a few moments, but a quick gesture from Erik quickly woke her up. “I’m sorry. Yes, yes, please. Come in,” she made way by standing away from the door. Erik stepped inside her apartment. “Do you- Do you want to have a cup of coffee or tea or something?”

  “I don’t want to be a nuisance?” he said, “It’s late.”

  “You must be tired, it’s the least I could do,” she replied.

  With a smile on his face, Erik came in.

  “You know what? I haven’t had anything to eat since lunch and I’m just starving,” he exclaimed, “If you don’t mind, I wou
ld love to stay for dinner.”

  And with that, he closed the door behind him, his fangs sliding down as he got ready for a feast.

  The End

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Claudia Silva is the author of the North American Vampire Secret Agency series and other dark fantasy tales. You can find her online home at www.claudia-silva.com.

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  ALSO BY CLAUDIA SILVA

  Have you read the North American Vampire Secret Agency Series?

  The North American Vampire Secret Agency (NAVSA) series follows the adventures of Rebecca Sawyer as she joins werewolf hunter Dylan Torrence in battling werewolves and other supernatural threats that terrorize mankind.