The Vampire of Plainfield

by Kristopher Rufty

  Great job, you dunce.

  Ed winced at the dull throb that started in his hairline and pulsated through his skull. What’d he hit his head on? Turning slightly, he saw the wall of shrubs he’d been hiding behind. A gnarled, leafless branch twisted out from the thick leaves like a skeleton’s deformed arm.

  Guess I deserved it, for falling asleep.

  What would he have done if the vampire had shown up while he was asleep? Or Peter?

  Squat, that was what he’d have done.

  “Theodore? I’m getting scared. Are you all right?”

  “Huh?” said Ed. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m all right.”

  “What happened?”

  “Socked my noggin pretty good, that’s what.”

  The softness of her laughter made him smile.

  “Did it hurt?” she asked, snickering between the words.

  “Not too much,” he lied. He sat up. Groaned. “Very much. But it’ll be okay.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Wonder what time it is.”

  Ed wondered that as well. Reaching into his pocket, he dug out his watch. It was a copper-plated device that had belonged to his father. He pressed the button to open the cover, held the watch up, and tilted it into a blade of moonlight that stabbed through the trees.

  “Nearly five in the morning,” he said.

  “Almost dawn,” she said, yawning.

  “I thought you’d sleep all night.”

  “Well…I woke up because I have to…”

  Ed waited for her to finish, but she left the sentence hanging there. “You have to what?”

  “I have to…tinkle…”

  Ed sighed. He should have expected this at some point. “There’s nothing I can really do about that, Dorothy.”

  “Untie me so I can go do it in the woods.”

  “I can’t untie you,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “I told you before,” he said.

  “I’ll come right back,” she said. “And you don’t even have to tie me back up. I’ll just pretend to be tied.”

  “If Peter sees you’re not tied…”

  “He won’t. I said I’ll pretend.”

  “I don’t know, Dorothy.”

  “Please!”

  The hopeless desperation in Dorothy’s voice made Ed flinch. She started to cry.

  Ed knew he shouldn’t untie her, but her pitiful sobs would soon make him nuts. “Okay,” he said. “Be right there.”

  Sniffling, Dorothy muttered her thanks.

  Ed took the same route he’d taken when covering her with the blanket to keep himself hidden, a bit slower this time since movement seemed to cause his head to ache even worse. At the rear of the graveyard, he gripped the tops of the fence under their sharp tips. Hoisting himself up, he threw his legs over, watching them narrowly evade being pricked, and dropped. His feet slapped the ground. Landing in a squat, Ed looked to the front. He could see the back of Dorothy’s head. Her light hair was a shimmering pallor in the dark.

  “Is that you?” she asked.

  “It’s me,” he said, standing. He started walking.

  She let out a relieved sigh. Reaching the other side of the graveyard, he crouched behind her. Her wrists stuck between the wrought-iron bars. A thick rope bound them together by a tight knot. Peter had done an immaculate job. Where’d a boy so young learn precision like this?

  Ed started working to untie it, but his gloves made the task awkward and hard. Plus Ed had sausages for fingers. Holding nails was also a pain because his chubby fingers either dropped them, or would be bashed with the hammer because they stuck up so far above the rim of the nail head.

  “Please hurry,” said Dorothy, shaking. “I’m about to go.”

  “I’ve almost got it,” said Ed.

  The knot loosened more as Ed fidgeted with it. He pulled an end out of the loop, and the knot fell away. Now all that was left was to unwind it. He started twirling his arm, removing the rope piece by piece. Finally, it dropped from her wrists, though the marks it left on her skin made it look as if she were still tied.

  Dorothy slumped forward, moaning. She pulled her arms forward, letting them hang in front of her.

  “It hurts,” she said. “Feels like needles…”

  “Give them a minute to start working again,” he said.

  She started to turn around.

  “Don’t,” he said.

  “I can’t see you?”

  “No. I told you, you couldn’t.”

  Dorothy sighed. “Fine.”

  “How’re your arms now?”

  “They hurt.”

  From the slow rolling of her shoulders, he figured she was rubbing the indentions on her skin. Probably felt raw and painful, like the worst carpet burn somebody could ever get. She’d probably have those bruises for a long time.

  Dorothy leaned forward, putting her arms ahead of her. Her white rump rose on the other side of the bars. Ed quickly looked away. He heard Dorothy gasp and turned in time to watch her drop on her stomach. Her feet flew towards her back, heels bopping her buttocks.

  Groaning, Dorothy lowered her head onto the ground and sobbed. “I can’t walk,” she said in a whiny voice. “They’re numb. I can’t move. I can’t do anything. I hurt down there. My legs won’t work right and my arms feel weird!”

  Ed shushed her. “It’s all right. Just got to give it a minute…”

  “I can’t! I’m about to pee!”

  “Calm down,” he said.

  “Will you help me up?”

  “I don’t…can’t…” Ed sighed. “You’re not wearing anything.”

  “Please, Theodore. I need help.”

  Ed pressed his lips tightly together and huffed through his nose. He couldn’t just leave her there. Wouldn’t be right. But if he helped her get up, she’d see who he was. There was no way he could get her onto her feet without exposing his face to her.

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll do it myself.”

  “Hold on,” he said.

  Ed stood with a moan. His knees made cracking sounds as his legs straightened. He walked away from her, heading toward the front entrance. Since the vampire had broken the gate, he was able to walk straight through. He turned and started toward her.

  Lying on her stomach, Dorothy’s head turned to look at him. It tilted back. Her hair looked nearly bleached as it curtained her face. Moonlight showed her features in a soft glow.

  Her eyes widened, mouth dropped. “I…know you…” she said, voice stammering.

  “Thought you would.”

  “Ed Gein,” she said.

  He nodded.

  “You said your name was Theodore.”

  “My middle name. Didn’t want you to know who I was.”

  Keeping his eyes on hers, Ed sunk to a crouch beside her hip. He felt around the ground for the blanket. His fingers brushed a smooth, cold thigh. Gasping, Dorothy recoiled away. Before she’d known who he was, she hadn’t seemed bothered that he could see her. Now that she knew he was Ed Gein, town goof, she acted frightened of him.

  Feeling ashamed, he lowered his head. There was no reason for him to feel bad, but he couldn’t stop it from happening. Should be used to this kind of reaction by now. Other than Timmy and Peter, most the kids looked at him as if he was from outer space. The adults treated him like a child trapped in a man’s body.

  Others pretended he didn’t exist.

  Of course Dorothy wouldn’t be any different.

  Ed found the blanket and pulled it over her.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “I…” She looked around. “I think I can do it now.”

  “But you said you needed my help.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “I think…”

  Ed noticed the blanket move, her legs squirming underneath.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Thank you, but I think I can do it. Yeah. No problem.”

  Dorothy put her hands flat
on the ground and pushed up. Gritting her teeth, she groaned as she made herself rise to her knees. The blanket dropped off her shoulders, unveiling her naked back. Ed glimpsed a patchwork of bruises before Dorothy made a frantic grab for the itchy wool, and pulled it around her. Her hand held it snugly closed in front.

  Ed stood up, his tendons popping again with protest of the cold and his age. Dorothy looked up at him, fear making her eyes wide.

  “Are you sure you don’t need my help anymore?” he asked.

  Dorothy shook her head. Wincing, she threw a leg in front of her, pushed off her foot and got upright. She swayed towards Ed and fell against him. He felt the coldness of her body through the blanket and his clothes as he held her up. Probably would come down with pneumonia before this ordeal was through.

  He tried to help her find her balance, but she quickly pushed him back.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “I really think you should…”

  “Don’t touch me, weirdo!”

  Ed flinched. Dorothy stared at him with narrowed eyes, a corner of her lip curled, baring teeth. She studied him with restraint, as if she expected him to try and harm her.

  “Fine,” said Ed. “I’ll wait here.”

  “So you can tie me up again?”

  “You said you could fake it…”

  “I’m not…” Dorothy stepped backward, shaking her head. “You just want me back here.”

  “What?”

  “Bet you’ve liked watching me, haven’t you? Mama said you like to watch people—that it’s all you do. Did you like watching what Peter did to me?”

  “No,” said Ed, feeling sick at the memory. “No.”

  She jerked the blanket open, showing him her naked front. The pale skin was dotted in bruises. Above her small breast was a row of dents that might have been teeth marks.

  Ed turned away.

  “See me? Peter saw me! Bet you want to touch me too, don’t you? Go ahead. Touch all you want! Might as well!”

  “Dorothy, stop.”

  “Touch me in there,” she cried. Her voice, high and cracking, sounded like a witch who’d gone mad. “Peter likes it in there! Bet you will too!”

  “Stop it!”

  He threw an arm out. He felt his hand lightly knock against the softness of Dorothy’s stomach. She made a startled choking sound, and stopped her tantrum. Ed heard the blanket flap as it was pulled shut. Knowing it was safe to look, he turned, opening his mouth to apologize.

  And Dorothy cut him off by slapping his cheek.

  A stinging blast lit up the side of his face. His vision flashed with brightness. When it cleared, he saw Dorothy was hobbling away from him, making for the trail.

  “No!” Ed shouted.

  Dorothy limped and hopped, almost dragging her left foot behind her. The blanket fluttered out like a thick cape. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him coming after her and loosed a frightened scream.

  “Dorothy! Come back!” he cried.

  “Stay away from me!”

  Ed couldn’t let her get away. She’d tell everybody he’d been here while Peter had hurt her. He’d have to confess about the vampire, what he’d done, and the graves he’d dug up.

  Everybody would know what Ed Gein had been up to while they’d slept soundly in their beds.

  No! They can’t know!

  “Dorothy, please!”

  “Stay away!”

  Ed was quickly gaining on her. She couldn’t move nearly fast enough because of her condition. She gave a fleeting glance behind her, spotted Ed, and screamed louder. She turned forward and seemed to move a bit faster.

  Ed heard a crack and Dorothy suddenly dropped with a painful screech.

  The thud her body made on the ground was loud and firm in the night. On the ground, Dorothy screamed and cried, but she didn’t stop trying to get away. Now she dragged herself along the ground, hands gripping the dirt like a ladder’s rungs and tugging. Her right leg helped—knee digging into the ground and assisting with a push.

  But the left one stayed straight and motionless.

  And slowed her down like an anchor.

  Ed noticed the flaccid foot was twisted to the side and jiggled with each movement. Below her toes, he saw a hump of root protruding from the ground.

  It had snagged Dorothy’s foot and made her fall.

  Probably broke her ankle.

  A cold knot formed in his gut. How could he explain this? A naked little girl, injuring herself just to get away from him.

  Nobody would believe I wasn’t involved with what had happened to her.

  Everything had gone wrong so fast. All because he’d felt sorry for Dorothy.

  The girl kept dragging herself over the ground, pulling her body out of the blanket. Naked, she wriggled up the path, leaving a flat gulley in the dirt.

  She was moving so slowly now that Ed didn’t need to run. He walked beside her, got above her head, and turned. He waited on her to reach his feet. Her fingers curled over the toes of his boots. Her jittering head leaned back. Yellow hair curtained her face, leaving her mouth in the open. Ed noticed her lips were trembling.

  “I wasn’t going to hurt you,” he said.

  Strings of spit clung to her lips and stretched as she cried. Tears dribbled down her cheeks, dripping off her jaw. She looked so…pitiful.

  What was he going to do with her? She couldn’t leave these woods.

  Strangle her?

  Ed’s hands tingled at the thought. He flexed his fingers. Could he really do that to such a young girl? Could he do it to anybody?

  No.

  There had to be some other way to fix this.

  “Please…” she said, breathless. “Don’t…”

  “I don’t know what to do, Dorothy.” Ed shrugged. “I’m out of ideas.”

  Dorothy closed her eyes, pushing out droplets of tears that streamed down her dirty cheeks.

  Rising to her exposed neck, his hands made C shapes. He stopped just before they clasped her throat.

  I can’t.

  He let his hands drop. “Okay…”

  Panting and wincing, Dorothy watched him.

  “Let’s get you out of here,” Ed said.

  “Ruh-really?”

  Nodding, Ed started to reach for her.

  “Thanks for the help, Eddie.” The voice had come from behind, and sounded like grating metal.

  Ed’s skin went tight and crawly.

  Dorothy screamed.

  Ed spun around.

  Something that vaguely resembled Peter stood before him, with features that were deformed varieties of his former self. His brow now bulged and furrowed over eyes that had recessed into his skull and smoldered like liquid gold. His purple lips pulled back into a steely grin, presenting fangs where his teeth used to be. A black wedge of tongue reached out from the gulf of his mouth, tapping the fangs as if making sure Ed had noticed them. His filthy clothes, covered in dark muck, hung stiffly on his body. The skin that could be seen through the filth was insipid and reptilian in texture.

  Jesus H. Christ, what happened to him?

  The vampire must’ve gotten to him. Changed him.

  How?

  “I’ll take care of our girl from here,” Peter said.

  Ed felt a mule-kick on his chest from Peter’s swinging arm. Then Ed was soaring backwards, his arms and legs extended in front of him. As if the ground wanted Ed back, he was snatched from the air and pounded the earth. Air blasted from his lungs. He slid several feet before finally stopping.

  Ed’s lungs felt as if they were being twisted by cold hands. It hurt his chest to breathe. He didn’t want to move. But Dorothy’s screams made him roll to his side. Groaning and coughing, Ed looked toward the path and was shocked to see how far he’d been knocked. Dorothy was a small bucking shape on the tree-darkened path.

  Peter was on top of her.

  “Help me!” Dorothy’s cry was like a knife in Ed’s chest.

  “Help me!” Peter mocked. “O
h, Eddie, please help me, my hero!”

  Peter let out a wild cackle that Ed felt in the marrow of his bones. Ed pushed himself up on all fours, coughed, and nearly dropped back down. Trembling, Ed started crawling toward the bushes.

  He’d left his bag over there.

  Dorothy screamed from behind, high and shrill, like a banshee in the night. Ed pushed through the shrubs headfirst, closing his eyes against the slapping twigs. He felt stinging lashes on his mouth, cheeks, chin, and neck. He made it through to the other side. The skin of his face burned as if he’d recently shaved.

  Spotting his bag, Ed quickly crawled to it. He sat back on his legs, jerked the sack onto his thighs, tugged it open, and reached in. He felt the sharp tip of a filed stake. He’d carved it himself from a fell branch he’d found in his yard. With the stake clenched in his fist, Ed stood.

  He gazed toward the path from over the bushes. Dorothy no longer screamed. Peter no longer groaned or mocked. All Ed could hear was the soft rustling of leaves from a mild breeze and just underneath that a slurping sound, like somebody struggling to pull a chunk of milkshake through a thin straw.

  Ed ran through the bushes, kneeing limbs out of his way. He reached the other side and kept running. Closing in, he began to make out Peter’s dark form, slumped over, pale arcs on either side of his black hips.

  Dorothy’s legs.

  The shadowy blob covered all of her but her splayed arms, spread legs, and tilted-back head. Her mouth was open wide, as if in a silent shriek while the black bubble of Peter’s head jerked wildly at her neck. Blood spurted across her sweet, pallid face.

  “Stop!” Ed shouted.

  Peter’s head shot up. Mouth wide and fangs flashing, he hissed. Blood smeared his lips and cheeks like sauce. Ed didn’t give the boy the chance to react. He threw his foot out, the toe of his boot catching Peter under the chin. His jaw flew up, teeth clacked. He tumbled away from Dorothy’s naked body.

  Peter was already getting up when Ed pounced. He landed on the boy’s pudgy stomach, sinking it inward under his weight. Peter hissed again. Blood spittle flew off his tongue. He gnashed his teeth. His attempted bites made hollow claps inches from Ed’s arm as the stake raised into the air.

  Ed brought the stake down. The tip banged Peter’s chest above the heart.

  And crumpled.

  The sharp tip disintegrated into a cloud of chips and flakes. Sitting up, Ed examined the broken section he held in his hand. “Oh…damn…” he muttered.