Vampire's Dilemma

by Jacqueline Lichtenberg

  “Please,” Julia fought against the urge to cry. She already had her own mindless, ravening beast inside, devouring her, what could be worse than that…? “I know I wouldn’t be like that. I’m a good person. I can control myself. I don’t have to kill. I could just take enough blood to survive. There are plenty of people who come to these clubs who are willing to give a bit of blood to those who want it. I could do that. And you can have all of mine, whatever you need as long as you make me like you!”

  “Why would I want your blood? I can smell it. It’s thin and bitter like weak tea. There’s no sustenance in you.”

  Tears were the last thing Julia wanted to offer the vampire. She turned her head away so he wouldn’t see them and touched the ruby drop. “This was my Grandmother’s. You can have it. It must be worth a lot.”

  The vampire sighed. He put his fingertips under Julia’s chin and turned her face toward him, looking into her eyes. “It won’t be like you think,” he said. “It’s not life as you know it, it’s just another kind of death. Your heart won’t beat. You won’t draw breath. And you will change. Your hunger will drive you to do things you never imagined, and you’ll thrive on the power and the pain.”

  “You don’t seem like that.”

  “You’ve only just met me. Besides, I’m old. Ravening loses its appeal after a while.”

  “Then I don’t have to be like that either.” Julia said. “I promise you, I won’t be. I’m a better person than that.”

  The vampire took his hand away and gave her a long, measuring look. His eyes flickered in the candlelight “Are you very, very sure you want this?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes.” Julia answered him. “With all my heart.”

  The vampire put his palm over the top of the globe that held the booth’s candle. The flame went out. “Very well,” Julia heard him say just before he reached for her in the darkness.

  The bite was painful at first, but other sensations soon overrode the pain. Every molecule of Julia’s being flamed with a cold, all-consuming fire as she felt the blood rushing through her limbs in a frantic race to explode from the tear in her throat. As the burning waves diminished, she could feel her heart spasm as it fought the slowing beat. The breath fluttered from her lungs, and she had no will to draw in more. Julia knew she was dying, but she wasn’t afraid. Her last sensation was the deep, sweet taste of blood on her tongue, then she felt nothing at all.

  * * * *

  Julia awakened with a start. She was in the booth, alone. “Oh, no!” she moaned. It didn’t work—he wasn’t real. She touched her neck, there was no wound. Tears welled up at her foolishness. And then she realized her pain was gone. There was no dizziness, no weakness, in fact she felt marvelous and more aware of being alive than she’d ever felt in her life. She put her hand to her throat. The ruby drop was gone. He’d taken his payment, but she didn’t care. He’d taken her heartbeat as well.

  She sat up straighter. Clutched tightly in her other hand was a napkin. Dropping it onto the table, she smoothed it out. Even in the velvety darkness of the booth, she could see the writing clearly. It was written in ballpoint pen in an old-fashioned hand: Feed. But not here! Get home before dawn.

  Feed, Julia thought, and the hunger struck her like a hollow blow. She looked around. Her watch showed 4:42, dawn was slightly more than an hour off and the crowd was beginning to clear. A few couples still moved around the dance floor in a slow, drugged kind of way, but others were finishing their final drink or weaving their way toward the door. Hunger became craving as her ears picked up what could only be the sound of blood pulsing through their veins. But she couldn’t just snatch one of them and go for their throat. That wasn’t the way it was done, even by the role players. Someone would call the police.

  Getting to her feet, Julia started to look through her small evening bag. The vampire had put most of her money back, and among the bills was a card; the cab driver’s cell phone number. He’d said he’d be on duty until six if she needed him.

  Well, she needed him all right. Laughing quietly to herself, she took out her own cell phone and made the call.

  * * * *

  Julia woke to the sound of knocking. Dizzy and confused, she had no idea where she was except that it was a dark, cramped, lumpy place and she seemed to have a sack over her head. As she snatched at it, an avalanche of soft cloth and clanging wires came down on top of her. Clawing her way to the surface of the pile she remembered—just before dawn she’d crawled into her bedroom closet, the darkest place in her apartment. She struggled to her feet. Now that she didn’t have a sweater over her head she could see surprisingly well. The knocking started again. Julia couldn’t imagine who it was, nor did she care. The only thing she really cared about right now was her hunger. But the knocking wouldn’t stop.

  Stumbling out of the closet, Julia made her way to the front door, vaguely hoping the knocker was the building superintendent. She’d always hated him with his dirty t-shirts and hot, piggy little eyes. He was bald and sweaty, always standing too close, and she suspected he sometimes let himself into her apartment and went through her underwear. I’d be happy to eat him, she thought reaching for the doorknob, and I’d be doing humanity a favor.

  She flung open the door. A man stood there, his closed fist still raised, ready to give the door another rap. It wasn’t the building super, it was the vampire from the bar.

  “What…?” Julia had never expected to see him again. And how did he know where she lived?

  “Invite me in,” he said. Julia stepped back and made a vague gesture in the general direction of the room behind her.

  “Say it!” the vampire ordered. “Do you want your neighbors to see you like that?”

  “Um. Come in.” Julia answered, confused. “Like what?”

  The vampire shut the door behind him. “Look at yourself.” Julia looked down. Her white dress was streaked with rusty stains from bodice to hem. She touched one and stuck her finger in her mouth. “Cab driver,” she said, and giggled.

  The vampire sighed. “I knew this was a bad idea. Did anyone see you come in?”

  Julia shook her head. “The night man drinks, he never sees anything. How did you find me?”

  “I followed you home last night. At least you were smart enough to leave the cab a few blocks away from here. You need to get cleaned up.”

  “Hungry,” Julia said.

  “Yes, I know.”

  “I want to eat the super. I hate him.”

  “Rule number one,” the vampire held up a finger. “You don’t eat the neighbors. It only draws attention to yourself.”

  “But I’m hungry!” Julia hated how needy she sounded.

  The vampire pushed her toward the bedroom. “Get cleaned up, and I’ll take you out to dinner. We need to talk.”

  Julia stepped out of her dress and onto the cool tiles of the bathroom floor in one fluid motion. She’d left the door open. The thought that she had discarded her modesty along with her humanity was soon lost to the sound and sensation of the hot water pouring over her naked body. She didn’t think she’d ever enjoyed a shower more.

  When she came out of the bedroom, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, the vampire was standing in front of the wooden easel she’d positioned next to the large living room window. He’d opened the curtains. Over his shoulder, Julia could see the moon creeping its way over the rooftops, like a thief flaunting its stolen light. She’d never liked the moon. It seemed to wash the color from everything it touched, including her paintings. It had been the abundant sunlight that came through that very window that had prompted Julia to rent this apartment in the first place, now it was the very thing that had her sleeping in the closet. “I can’t see myself in the mirror,” she said. “Do I look okay?”

  “Fine,” the vampire answered, not looking up. “We always look fine, as long as you don’t object to a slightly unhealthy pallor. You never finished this.” He indicated the painting clamped to the easel.

  “I couldn’t
. Maybe I thought that not finishing it would buy me a little more time. If I completed it, everything might…end.”

  “It’s good.”

  Julia sighed. Painting required the sun. “Does that matter anymore? I want to eat.”

  The vampire gave her the annoyed look of a tired parent with a whiny child. “Of course. Let’s hunt. I’ll explain the rules on the way.”

  As they left the apartment building, the doorman hardly glanced in their direction. Julia paused. She was used to some acknowledgement as she came and went, but that thought soon evaporated. She was beginning to see the doorman in a whole different light. He no longer looked look like the officious guardian who condescended to open the door for her when she arrived home with her arms full of packages—now he looked like a silly uniform filled with pulsating food. As if he’d picked up on Julia’s intention, the vampire grabbed her arm and jerked her out the door.

  “No!” he said.

  Bad dog! Julia thought to herself. She growled.

  The vampire surprised her by laughing. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Your treat is coming.”

  The two covered several blocks without effort. Julia was hardly conscious of the distance. It took no time at all. She did notice that the neighborhoods got darker and seedier the farther they went, until more and more buildings had the sad, worn look of hard times, and some appeared to be abandoned altogether. The vampire stopped at one of these. The front door seemed nailed shut with two-by-fours, but he pushed it halfway open with no apparent effort and motioned for her to slip through the gap.

  Inside, the building was all dirt, damp, and disarray. Large chunks of plaster had fallen from the ceiling and the walls. The moldy carpet had been worn through in so many places that it barely covered the floor. Years of feet had kicked it into ripped and greasy waves that meandered this way and that down the length of the hall. Old electric wires hung out of the ceiling, doors sagged on rusty hinges. Any light bulbs or metal fixtures had long ago been stolen or joined the debris on the floor.

  “Ugh!” Julia curled her lip in disgust.

  “I’ll admit,” the vampire said, waving her on, “the ambiance is a bit lacking, but I think you’ll enjoy the food.” He opened a nearby door with a flourish. Under the single window, Julia could see a young man tied to a radiator with clothesline. A gag pulled his lips into thin slashes across his lower face, and above, his eyes were wide with fright. Julia could hear his heart beating a frantic rhythm in his chest. His odors—sweat, cheap cologne, Italian food, greasy hair and unwashed clothes—were distinct from all the rest that made up the miasma of the building. But, most of all, above every aroma vying to fill her nostrils with disgust, was the warm, heady scent of blood.

  Its bouquet made Julia dizzy with hunger. Her mouth filled with saliva and suddenly seemed too small for her teeth. As her incisors slid past her lips, they tingled, sending a rush through her entire body. Her vision narrowed, until all she saw was the man kneeling on the floor in a puddle of moonlight. His muffled pleas only inflamed her. Blind with need, she fell on him, fangs ripping at his throat, lips pulling at the wound, mouth sucking at the warm gouts that pulsed, hard and fast, into her mouth and down her throat until nothing was left.

  Julia fell back, panting. She was exhausted, but burning with an energy that defied the limitations of her body. She was filled, but wanting more. She shook the depleted corpse in frustration.

  The vampire pulled her gently away from the body. Taking her into his arms, he petted her head and patted her shoulder as if she was a small child. “There,” he said. “There, there, Julia. Now you see what it means to be what we are.”

  * * * *

  As Julia’s languor wore off, she realized an arm was supporting her shoulders and someone was dabbing at her face with a piece of cloth. She fought to sit up, flailing at the hand, forcing her lungs to inhale a long, unnecessary breath that brought no relief from her initial panic. The vampire was kneeling next to her, a bloody handkerchief in his hand and a startled expression on his face.

  Julia’s hand flew to her mouth. It seemed back to normal, but her lips were sticky and her fingers came away red and damp.

  “I was just trying to clean you up a bit before it dried,” the vampire said. “It’s harder to get off then.”

  “What happened?” She looked around. The man by the radiator was on his back, hands still tied behind him. He looked somehow bleached and deflated, as if all the air had leaked out through the ragged tear in his throat.

  “You don’t remember?”

  The memory came back in a flash of sound and sensation. A hot, sweet taste in Julia’s throat made her start to retch. The vampire clapped his hand over her mouth. “Don’t,” he warned. “You’ll just have to feed again.”

  Julia moaned. In her head it sounded like “no,” but deep inside, she heard herself whisper yes! She pulled his hand away. The reflex to purge had passed.

  “Who was he?”

  “Human garbage. A pimp and small time dealer. He went for the young ones. I’ve been watching him for a while. He won’t be missed.”

  “Will he become like us?”

  “No, I think I can safely say that he’s thoroughly and permanently dead. You have a hearty appetite for such a little thing.”

  He helped Julia to her feet, then reaching into his pocket, pulled out a knife and cut the ropes that bound the body to the pipes. With one smooth motion, he hoisted it over one shoulder. “Rule number two,” he said. “Always take out the trash.”

  Julia followed him down the grubby hallway, watching the pimp’s lifeless body flop against the vampire’s back, head down, arms trailing. It was no longer human, just an empty sack dressed in rags.

  At the end of the corridor an ancient elevator door gaped open, the shaft, dark and empty, the cage lost somewhere between the floors, or more likely, fallen to the bottom. The vampire heaved the body into the opening. It plunged out of sight, landing with a distant thud somewhere below.

  He straightened his jacket. “Never leave the ones you eat where someone else can find them. Too many bodies lead to too many questions.”

  Reaching into a pocket he fished out a cell phone, flipped it open and pushed auto-dial. “Pick-up, please,” he said into its tiny receiver, then put it away without seeming to wait for an answer.

  “Now,” he brushed his hands together. “Let’s go get a real drink.”

  * * * *

  The bar was dark and cozy in a well-worn kind of way, its décor a throwback to earlier times. Although it was off the beaten path and below ground level, it seemed like a neighborhood place. The kind you could come back to again and again, but where people would leave you alone unless you invited their company. The small, sidewalk level windows had been painted over.

  They slid into a booth. A waitress took the vampire’s order and brought back a bowl of peanuts and two double Scotches. Pushing the peanuts aside, the vampire took a deep pull on his drink. “Go ahead,” he said, pushing Julia’s closer. “It won’t kill you.”

  “Very funny,” Julia responded wryly. “I thought we only drank blood.”

  “I used to think that, myself. In the old days I got my alcohol second hand, drunks being easy targets. Then I discovered I could go straight to the source. It’s much better this way, believe me.”

  “You called me Julia, back there. How do you know my name?”

  “I went through your purse at the club after I…honored your request. A violation of privacy, I know, but we’d already shared so much that it seemed like a small intrusion.”

  “So you know my name. All things considered, don’t you think it’s time I knew yours?”

  “Of course, how remiss of me.” The vampire put one hand flat against his chest and inclined his head slightly. It was a very continental gesture. “My name is Aeron. The other part doesn’t really matter. Being dead allows us to forego some of the formality we were used to in life, but it’s certainly no excuse for poor manners.”


  Julia took a small sip of Scotch. The mild smokiness was pleasant and it seemed to go down okay. “I didn’t realize being a vampire was going to be so complicated. I mean, stalking pimps for something to eat? That seems dangerous.”

  “Only to the pimp.”

  Julia could feel a sense of regret creep over her. It had followed her from the tenement all the way to the bar. “Is this what I’m going to have to do to survive,” she asked. “Eat disgusting human beings and throw them down elevator shafts? It just seems, well…really disturbing.”

  Aeron sighed. “If you’re asking me do we have to kill to survive, the short answer is no.

  “There’s a well-established vampire community here in Manhattan. It’s large enough that repeated deaths from the same obvious cause would soon be noticed by the authorities—we can’t afford that.”

  “Luckily, the average human mind is a sea of seething emotions and conflicting ideas caused by a steady diet of useless information. This means it can be easily influenced by our particular type of eye contact, followed by a concentration of will. A skillful vampire can hold his prey in thrall until he’s taken what he needs. The experience is non-fatal to the donor, and rarely remembered afterward. And in a pinch, animal blood is quite sufficient to sustain us, although I have to warn you there is very little access to house pets in a big city and rodents tend to taste a bit moldy.”

  At the thought of rodents, Julia took a larger mouthful of her drink.

  “A fledgling vampire, as you are, is ruled by the passions inherent in the desire to feed. You cannot immediately regulate yourself—the moment is too great, too fulfilling—the desire to repeat it, too strong. It’s understood that initially, there will be unavoidable fatalities. But, the single most important lesson a fledgling must learn is self-restraint. If you cannot become artful and discrete…” he shrugged.

  “What about the cab driver?” Julia asked. This conversation was raising, not lowering, her anxiety. “I just left him there in the car. It wasn’t ‘discrete’ at all.”

  “The Sweepers took care of it.” At her look of incomprehension, Aeron continued. “It’s a disposal service. Not inexpensive, but quick, and totally thorough. The driver’s trip log disappeared along with his body. He won’t be traced back to you. I called them to deal with the pimp as well.” After a moment of thought, he wrote a phone number on his napkin. “This is their phone number. Memorize it, then destroy it. Then try very hard not to need it again. Remember, putting the rest of us at risk because you can’t control yourself has consequences.”