by J B Stilwell
“As I walked closer, he practically skipped up to me saying, ‘What’s happenin’, dady-o? A bunch of people are goin’ to hang tonight at this real cool joint. It’s gonna be a blast, dig? All the info is on the flier.’
“I just stared at him as he wiggled in front of me like he was going to pop. ‘I don’t have much free time. Have you given a lot of these out?’ He practically hopped up and down saying, ‘It’s cool, man. There’s already a lot of cats and cherries gonna be there. I’m just trying to get some of these college hipsters in on the fun. You’ll really be missin’ out. Time to relax, drink a little, chat up some hot young things. Sure you’re gonna pass?’
“I looked at the flier, a feeling mixed with dread and anticipation. I hadn’t been to many functions since being in college. To be honest, I had been working and studying ever since I entered as a freshman. Even as an undergraduate, when I was a part of the elite group on campus, I still did nothing that could be considered social. And at twenty-five, I had never had a girlfriend. Hell, I had never even held a girl’s hand.”
“Slowly I said, ‘Sure, I might stop by and check it out.’ The young man replied, ‘Far out! Tell ‘em Jimmy sent you.’” And with that he hustled off to find more students and my fate was sealed in one moment of choosing fun over my future.”
I sit waiting for Rick to continue, but he doesn’t. He just sits there as if he were looking through me, as if he were literally looking into the past. I clear my throat, “And Jimmy was at the party?”
Rick blinks as his eyes come back into focus. He pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as he appears to struggle to swallow. He takes a drink of the lukewarm coffee, coughs, then continues, “Yeah, Jimmy was there. He was sort of like…not the host, more like the ringleader or master of ceremonies. The host, if you could call him that, was a man who called himself Johnny Venture.”
“Johnny and Jimmy?” I ask. I can’t help but have a huge grin on my face, my brow slightly rising.
He returns my smile, “Yeah, sounds really threatening, right? That’s what I thought, too, but I think you may know a little something about making assumptions.”
I shift uncomfortably, my face burning as my admission of guilt is put on full display.
Rick thankfully continues, “Anyway, I showed up and it seemed like everyone was paired off into couples. There were no large group of friends talking to one another, just pairs of people with drunken gazes on their faces, like they had seen the heights of inebriation and were stuck in the point beyond that. I don’t think that I could have had an intelligent conversation with anyone and was reconsidering my decision to attend this particular function. And that’s when Johnny approached me. He stuck out his hand and said, ‘Welcome! The night is just getting’ started and you arrived at the best time. Just by lookin’ at you I think that you’re the type that enjoys the company of an intelligent woman, yes?’ I confirmed this to which he said, ‘Fantastic! I have just the dolly for you.’
“Johnny then left momentarily and returned with a rather plain looking girl with black hair. He introduced her as Sue Ellen. He urged her closer to me, then gave me a knowing smile, winked and left me to my own devices.
“I struggled to speak to Sue Ellen and ended up making a fool out of myself because I could not quit stammering. Sue Ellen finally smiled and suggested that we find a private place to get to know one another. She led me to the back of the establishment to what looked like the business office. There was a couch against one wall. She gracefully sat down and waited for me to do the same. My palms were sweating and I felt slightly ill, but I did manage to sit without tripping over myself. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything so I ended up just looking at her like a buffoon. She had the sweetest smile and smelled better than the aroma of my mother’s freshly baked bread because that was the first thing that I thought of when she was close to me. Through my nervousness, I started to develop this undeniable sense of coming home. I was reminded of my mother and her providing for me when I would return home from school. That was my first lesson in the subtle powers of the vampire.
“You see, vampires can be master manipulators. Given that by our very natures we are predators, nature has endowed us with special abilities to help ensnare our prey. Since our main culinary target is the human race - a rather highly developed animal, comparably speaking - conversely our characteristics are rather highly developed as opposed to the predatory gifts found in other animals in the wild.
“Unlike predators that prey on what some could call dimwitted animals, our prey has one characteristic that makes hunting extremely difficult…consciousness.”
“We think, therefore we’re more difficult to eat?” I ask.
Rick laughs loudly, “In a way, yes. To meet the challenges of this facet of humanity, nature endowed us with the ability of suggestion. But it’s more than what we normally think of as suggestion. Do you know what an empath is?”
“Sure,” I respond, “an empath is a person who constantly feels the emotions, and sometimes physical states, of the people around them. It’s like they were born with a radar that naturally picks up the feelings of the people in the immediate area. From what I understand, it’s a condition that can be quite overwhelming and can actually make a person feel like they’re insane.”
Rick smiles brightly, “A very good description. Vampires have been endowed with a specific form of empathy. Not only can we feel the emotions of people around us, we get a sense of what can calm and comfort an individual. Not only that, we can project feelings and suggest experiences so that the human is more…vulnerable and open to our approach.”
I feel myself getting slightly irritated. “What you’re saying is that I cannot trust what I feel when I’m around you because when you’re close, I’m nothing more than your puppet.”
“If only it were that easy,” Rick grins deviously. “Fortunately for humans, vampires also have consciousness and the all-important free will. I choose not to employ these tactics unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“What would you consider necessary?”
“If I’m personally threatened. I feel no remorse in protecting myself.” Rick laughs again, “Remorse of the vampire. An interesting idea that doesn’t quite gel with the legends of my kind, right? Those legends are driven by the vampires that FOHVA has hired us to stop. Hence part of the reason that I am here.”
Huh. I wonder if those vampires also drive the idea that vampires are self-loathing. Maybe that’s why they turn so violent. Vampire psychology. It shouldn’t be that different from human psychology, right?
I think about everything that he has said while chewing on the tip of my pen. Rick is watching my reactions very carefully, probably to gauge just how freaked out I am. I have to admit that I’m now even more nervous sitting here with him, but I’m also extremely intrigued at the scientific possibilities of harnessing the innate abilities of vampires for the betterment of humans. With this power of suggestion that he was describing, my mind is running wild with examples of how it could be used in crisis situations. I write a few notes then smile at him awkwardly, “So Sue Ellen is the one who turned you?”
Rick looks down at the table as his demeanor changes to what I can only think to be sadness. He shifts his hands, still looking at the table, “If only it were that intimate,” he meets my gaze, “but no, Sue Ellen did not turn me. She nearly killed me. Once she had me in that lulling state of vulnerability which I can only describe as being wrapped in a hundred warm blankets with my mom caressing my head until I was almost asleep, she struck my neck with all of the grace and intent of a newly born. You see, Sue Ellen hadn’t been a vampire for more than a few weeks and was not exactly skilled at knowing when to stop. I had this sense of falling, then it was as if I were sinking into deep, warm water. Sort of like floating in the ocean, then slowly sinking toward the bottom and the darkness that creeps in as you get farther from the top. I was encased in blackness and warmth, a rather peaceful feeling o
f pure nothingness. That is the last thing that I actually remember.”
“I know this is going to sound stupid, but you didn’t see a light like many people who have near-death experiences?” I ask.
“No, I didn’t, but I do not think that I got that far into death. What I mean by that is that many people mistakenly view death as an event, a natural and often spiritual action that happens to us. Death is a process. There are steps that one takes on the road to release. The flame of a person’s spirit doesn’t just suddenly extinguish. It gets dimmer, and dimmer, and dimmer, before it finally goes out. Even with the most abrupt tragedies that cause death, it’s still a process as the spirit packs its metaphysical bags to go back home. It’s the reason why many people see ghosts and apparitions after a body has shut down. In those cases, the process hasn’t finished because the spirit is still clinging to the physical. It’s also the reason why people can be ‘brought back to life’ as it were. The process was never complete because the spirit was still there.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s just not logical given that there have been many accounts of people seeing the ghosts of individuals that have been dead for decades,” I state matter-of-factly.
“Actually, yes it does because those spirits just still haven’t let go and are still trying to cling to the physical world, when many times the body has already been disposed of, causing the spirit to be sad, confused and sometimes angry. This is actually the essence of the phrase ‘rest in peace’ because by saying that, we are actually telling the spirit ‘it’s okay to go ahead and move on.’ Because if they don’t, there will be no peace for them.”
I take a big breath hoping that the extra oxygen will clear the smog that had developed in my cranium. I close my eyes and count to ten hoping that I won’t sound too bitchy when I speak again. I open my eyes, giving Rick my best, fake smile, pretending that I am enjoying myself. “I think we’ve gotten off track here. The topic is vampires, not ghosts.”
“Riiiggghhhttt. The next thing that I remembered after that was Johnny Venture kneeling beside me on the floor as blood dripped from his wrist to my mouth. That was my second lesson in the powers of vampires, the power to create others, these humanoid creatures, through a type of asexual reproduction. But that’s not even it. It’s not reproduction as much as it is invasive metamorphosis.”
I wonder aloud, “What is it exactly about vampire blood that can cause this invasive metamorphosis?” I begin to frantically write notes.
“I haven’t a clue,” Rick responds. “There have been studies to learn more about the life-giving properties of vampire blood, but nothing conclusive.”
“Hold on,” I interrupt. “Life-giving properties? Isn’t that a little bit of a misnomer? Vampires are the undead, no actual life in the sense that we know it, no beating heart, etc. I mean, that‘s the basic element that distinguishes humans from vampires.”
Rick leans back and crosses his arms. He looks at me intently while his lips twitch. He asks, “Do you really believe that?”
“It’s what I’ve always been told,” I respond.
“And therefore could not possibly be incorrect?”
I feel the heat rising over my neck, crossing my jaws and spreading over my cheeks. I stutter, “I-I thought that’s the way it was w-with y-you all.”
Rick raises one eyebrow, “You all? There it is. The until now elusive heart of the matter, pun completely intended. Although you have signed up to be part of the good fight, you have some underlying beliefs regarding ‘my kind’ that perpetuate your personal behaviors, such as not having any of them as friends. We’re too different. You share nothing with us. We are the other. But, don’t worry. I’m not angry at you.”
His comments instantly put me on the defensive, “Well, thank God for small favors. You’re not angry with me. I haven’t even done anything.”
“It’s not what you have done,” Rick states as he nods his head, “It’s what you haven’t done. What you haven’t done up until now is ask any questions to confirm that your assumptions are correct.” Rick sighs, “But, it’s understandable as the possibility of being wrong does not often enter one’s mind as it would cause you to be less self-centered and no one wants that.”
I stare at him for a few moments silently debating whether or not to ignore his condescension or let my anger explode all over the table and him. How dare he? How did this conversation get out of control like this? I went from learning about vampires to being called a self-centered bigot.
Not trusting myself to discuss things further without going all Courtney Love on his ass, I lay my pen down and say, “I think I need a break.”
I get up from my seat and slowly walk to the door of the suite, making sure to keep my head held high. As I leave, I can’t help but notice the smile on his lips.
Chapter 5
Damn those lips. It just doesn’t seem right that he’s so hot and pisses me off so much, in just a short period of time. Like it matters. It’s not like I wanted to date him or anything. It just sucks when eye candy bites. Puns totally intended. Bastard.
I walk aimlessly around the hallways, as I have absolutely no idea where I was going. As I walk, the heavy feeling in my chest begins to drop to my stomach making me feel rather nauseated. Maybe if I can find a snack machine or something around here I could calm myself down. Food can cure what ails. I didn’t get to be this size if I didn’t believe that. Well, I don’t really believe it, but I sure as hell practice it.
Everything in this place is stark white. As I’m walking through halls with the white walls and white tiled floors, I get the strange feeling of being trapped in a mental hospital. Or maybe that’s just my subconscious trying to tell me something.
As I round the corner, my head lowered in contemplation - yeah, that’s it, contemplation - I am nearly knocked over by someone who is walking with a purpose. As I stumble and reach out to grab a hold of anything to keep from falling, I am absolutely petrified when I realize that I have latched onto the waistband of the pants being worn by the man who had nearly plowed me over. Thankfully he is quick enough - not to mention willing and strong enough - to hold onto me and keep me from sliding onto my rump on the floor.
As I hold onto him like my life depended on it, I look up into the face of a relatively attractive man with long, light brown hair that was pulled back into a ponytail at the base of his neck. The best part is that instead of laughing at me, his face looks genuinely concerned.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Aside from the tingling excitement of humiliation, I’m peachy.” He nobly supports my robust weight as I struggle to stand straight. “You would think that after twenty-seven years I would have learned how to walk without falling.”
He laughs heartily, his eyes shining with amusement, “It’s totally my fault. I should have been watching where I was going. I’m just so hungry that I was trying to get to the cafeteria as quickly as possible. But if I had to run into someone, thankfully it was someone soft enough that the impact wasn’t too painful.”
What the hell. Did he really just say that? Since he is still holding onto me, I pull my arms away from him and take two steps back. My eyes dilate with shock as my lips slightly part. I turn away from him and resume my walk without saying another word.
A heaping plate of humiliation with a side of degradation. Not exactly the comfort food I was after. Maybe it was a big, whopping mistake taking this research position. I officially feel like the universe is kicking me while I’m down. But evidently the universe is not done with me yet.
“Hey, wait!” I hear footsteps rushing up behind me. I choose to ignore them and keep walking.
“What’s wrong? I kept you from falling. I was just trying to be nice. So why are you being rude to me now?”
Dead stop. Rude to him? Oh, the gall! I turn to him with the iciest stare that I can muster. I look him straight in the eyes and sneer, “Someone soft enough that the impact wasn’t too painful?”
He s
miles at me sheepishly, “That’s a GOOD thing.”
I cannot move. I cannot talk. Did I actually fall and hit my head? I just stood there, feeling stupid. How do I respond to that?
He sticks out his hand, “My name is Tucker Dutrieux. I’m really sorry that we ran into each other and I hope that you’re not hurt. I’m on my way to the cafeteria. I can show you where it is if you’re interested.”
I look at his hand, as I am not completely sure how to respond. What kind of game is this guy trying to play? Sighing deeply, I decide that it didn’t really matter as long as he led me to food.
I shake his hand, “I’m Emma Burcham.” That’s all I can think to say. He’s already called me fat, so I didn’t want to confirm his candid observation by saying “lead me to the food.”
Tucker looks at me expectantly as he continues to hold my hand, only slightly shaking it. An uncomfortable silence begins to grow. I withdraw my hand from his.
“The cafeteria is this way,” he motions down the hall, “If you want to follow along.”
Shifting my feet, I quickly smile then turn in the direction he indicated. We start walking; the silence between us is almost suffocating. It’s like the air was made thicker by the awkwardness of our encounter. I want to say something witty so that I can break through this disconcerting smog, but can’t come up with anything, which means that anything I would say would be totally lame.
We continue to walk in silence.
When we get to the cafeteria, it’s just as bland and white as the rest of the facility. There is one row of food warmers a la the high school lunch line, complete with plastic trays. I don’t know where to begin as my heart says “one of everything,” but my brain knows better. Tucker hands me a tray, then begins scanning warmers to make his first choice.
