The Vampire of Plainfield

by Kristopher Rufty

  A bed…

  He felt blankets covering him to his stomach. Opening his eyes, he saw wispy white curtains in front of a window. Dirty yellow light bled through the gauze-like fabric. The white walls were covered in old wallpaper.

  Something cool and wet gently patted his forehead. More water trickled down into his brows, sliding down the sides of his face.

  Turning his head, he saw Bernice leaning over him.

  Bernice!

  Gasping, his body turned rigid.

  She’d been at the cemetery. She’d been at the spot in the woods while he’d...what?

  Ed tried to recall. It was too hard, like using his hands to snatch a fish from a murky pond. His hand clasped a slippery fish, nearly lost it, but held on.

  The memory returned.

  Digging up a casket.

  Ed moaned.

  “Glad to see you can finally hold your eyes open longer than thirty seconds,” Bernice said with coldness in her voice. It was the kind of tone she might use if she’d caught him fiddling with his pecker in public. Though she was above him, she somehow seemed shorter than usual. Then Ed realized she was sitting in a chair, acting as his nurse.

  Ed opened his mouth to speak, but moaned again.

  “I bet it does hurt, you fool.”

  “You...hit me.”

  “Yes sir, I did. Damn good thing I did, too.”

  He studied her, waiting for her to elaborate. She did not. Silent, she reached over to the table beside the bed, dipped a rag into a basin with flowery designs ringing the brim, and lifted it out. She squeezed the rag. Water squished out, pouring over her hand and making tapping sounds when it drizzled into the bowl.

  She wore a dark blue dress that pushed out in the front from her massive breasts. Her curly hair was the color of a storm cloud, and a little mussed as if she’d been working in her garden all day.

  “You’re a mess,” she said, rubbing the rag on his neck. “Such a mess.” The rag moved under his collar, wiping the top of his chest.

  Ed held his breath as she rubbed him. He liked how it felt until holding his breath caused his head to pound. He let it out in a long gust.

  “I think it’s too late to save your clothes with a simple wash. They look ruined. Probably have to throw them away.”

  Her tone remained flat and cold. Not quite anger. Instead she sounded incredibly disappointed, and that seemed worse to Ed than fuming anger.

  “I went to your house earlier today.”

  Ed gulped. “Did you?”

  “Mm-hmm.” She held the rag up, rolled it around her hand. It unfurled and draped her fingers. “The door was open, so I walked right in. I tried the summer kitchen first, but it was locked.”

  Ed felt only minor relief knowing she hadn’t seen inside the summer kitchen. She hadn’t seen the body parts, casket pieces, headstone shards, and the many other items he’d robbed from the graves.

  “Know what I found in your kitchen?” she asked.

  “My heads?”

  “Among other things. I understand the heads, Ed, believe it or not. They’re supposed to ward off evil, but they don’t. That’s just stupid, ancient folklore. The shrunken heads invite it.”

  “How do you...?”

  “Know what else I found?”

  Ed tried to recall what all he had in the kitchen. Bowls made from skullcaps, mostly. The other stuff was in the living room. Bones he’d used to repair wobbly legs on furniture. The couch he’d been rebuilding with parts of the dead. But that was under a blanket for now. He doubted she’d checked under it.

  “Your books,” she said.

  Gulping, Ed closed his eyes. “The ones on the table?”

  He opened his eyes, and saw Bernice nod.

  Her expression was sour. “What in the name of our Lord, Ed?” Before Ed could answer, she said, “All those vampire books.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why so many?”

  “I’ve collected them.”

  “You’re reading them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why, Ed?”

  “Just wanted to.”

  Bernice closed her mouth, breathed through her nose. It made a long hiss. “That’s the only reason?”

  “Well…why else would I read them?” He made himself laugh. It sounded very loud in the heavy silence of the room, and made his head pulsate.

  “You tell me, Ed.”

  Ed stared at Bernice. Though her face was smudged in shadow, he could see the soft gleam of her glasses. The lenses were like a reflective glass that concealed her eyes. But he could feel their gaze, heavy on his face.

  “Have something to confess?” she said.

  Ed hoped the blankets hid his shaking. His cheeks felt warm enough to burst into flames. “Well…” he said. He cleared his throat, held out his hand. “I just…”

  Bernice suddenly unleashed a booming laugh. “Planning to hunt down some vampires?”

  “Well, yes.”

  Bernice laughed even harder. “Ed Gein, Vampire Hunter.”

  Hearing Bernice’s laughter was contagious. He joined her. “Yes,” he said. “Going to track it down and put a stake in its heart!”

  Bernice clapped her hands together. “You’re a hoot!” She pitched back her head. He could see the white of her teeth inside the dark chasm of her mouth as she let out a deep guffaw. The rag shook in her hand as if hanging from the clothesline in the wind.

  Ed took a deep breath and slowly let it out, puffing his cheeks. He was amazed by how much better he felt, sharing a laugh with Bernice.

  Bernice’s laughter petered out to something like a sniffling infant. She took a deep, trembling breath, coughing lightly. “Oh, Ed.”

  She slapped his face with the wet rag.

  It made a sharp smack against his cheek that lit his face up with a flurry of stings. Crying out, Ed raised a hand to his face. “Why’d you...? Ow! That hurt!”

  Bernice tossed the rag into the basin. Water splashed over the side. “It’s loose.”

  Holding his cheek, Ed swallowed the knot in his throat. It made a wet popping sound. “What is?”

  “Don’t try to fool me, Ed. I remember where I found you today, what you were doing. And I’ve seen the grave. It’s been disturbed. The gate had been thrown a clear hundred feet from the fence. Something tore out of there, something strong.”

  “I filled the grave myself. The dirt looked fine to me! How did you…?” Ed closed his eyes and groaned. He’d just said too much.

  Seeing Bernice’s smirk, he realized she’d hoped he would. “So you have been there. Thought so.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “Oh, that’s simple.”

  Bernice turned, reaching for the table. He heard her fingers tap something hard, a sound of scraping wood followed. Above him, she held something thick with a bulbous tip between her fingers. “I found this by the grave,” she said.

  Ed couldn’t tell what it was right away. Bernice tilted it into the gloomy light.

  My pipe.

  Though he knew it wasn’t there, he patted his pocket. It was flat against his leg, proving the one that Bernice held was his. It must’ve fallen out of his pocket during the fight with Peter.

  Lowering his head, Ed sighed. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it was missing before now.

  “Who was buried in the grave I found this at, Ed?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You said you filled it in. Who’d you put in there?”

  “Nobody. Was going to be Dorothy Clark, if she...” Ed stopped.

  Bernice’s lips pressed together. Another hiss came from her nostrils. “I knew it was her. Dorothy’s parents were found dead in their home this morning.”

  Ed felt a pinch in his gut. “Dead?”

  “Killed. The law—my son—thinks it was an animal attack from the condition of the bodies. Torn apart. A massacre.”

  “Good Lord.”

  Bernice nodded. “But we both know my son’s b
elief is inaccurate, don’t we?”

  “The vampire?”

  “Close. My guess is Dorothy went home to feed. Am I correct?”

  Ed didn’t know what to say.

  Bernice stared at Ed a few more moments, sighed, then placed his pipe on the small table. “Suddenly you’ve forgotten your tongue.” She shook her head. “Soon as I heard about the girl’s disappearance, I got a strange feeling inside—something told me it was back. But I let it go. When I heard about Timmy’s friend, I knew it wasn’t a coincidence.” Bernice’s voice sounded thick and bubbly. “Why now? It’s been so long since...” Bernice closed her eyes, mimed the shape of a cross over her chest. “Mary, mother of God, help us. It’s loose and it got the girl…”

  “No,” Ed said. Bernice stopped talking and listened. “The vampire didn’t get her. It kissed her...brought her back.”

  “Right. That’s how it brings them back. Makes somebody one of his own.”

  “But it wasn’t the one that...killed Dorothy.”

  “I don’t understand, Ed.”

  There was plenty Ed didn’t understand as well. How’d Bernice know about the vampire? How’d she know about the graveyard? How’d she know where to find him? How’d...?

  How does she know so much?

  His stress caused dull throbbing in his head. He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he said, “The vampire didn’t get her. It was…Peter. He’s a vampire, too.”

  Bernice made a face as if she were in pain. “Dear Christ, it’s started already. He’s building the family, preparing them for…” She looked at Ed, her eyes grim. “You have to tell me how much you know. Everything. Don’t leave out any detail. Promise me you’ll tell me everything.”

  “Everything?”

  “Every-damn-thing.”

  Can’t do that. Can’t tell her everything. She’ll tell Tom what I did. He’ll take me to jail. She’ll hate me. Timmy’ll hate me. Everybody’ll hate me.

  D’you hear about Ol’ Ed Gein? That weird fool was playing in the graveyards and accidentally set a vampire free.

  Only an idiot would do that.

  Well, you know Ed. He’s the biggest idiot of them all.

  Fingers snapping called Ed’s attention. He looked up at Bernice. She had her hand close to his face, making her fingers snap. “Yoo-hoo, Ed.”

  He blinked his eyes. He pushed back his worrisome thoughts. Nodded. “Okay, Bernice.”

  She smiled. “You’re learning. First time you’ve called me Bernice without me having to remind you.”

  Smiling, Ed gave his shoulder a small bump. “Yeah.”

  Bernice let out a heavy breath, almost whistling. “All right. Start talking.”

  Ed didn’t think he could say anything at all, but when his mouth opened, words poured out. It surprised him how easily it was to tell her so much without giving any condemnatory details. Ed told her about Peter, how he’d watched the tubby kid assault Dorothy. Told her he’d taken Dorothy back to his house to see if she would wake up. Told her about the vampire coming to visit, how it awakened Dorothy. Told her about Mary. Told her the vampire, in exchange for allowing him to live, ordered him to start digging. At first, he hadn’t known where to dig, but somehow he’d wound up at the right place and had been guided to the correct grave by a vulture.

  He even confessed about his ridiculous plans to take the vampire on tour, to charge people a dollar to see it—three dollars a head to watch him pull the stake.

  He’d expected Bernice to scold him for such foolish ideas, but she did not.

  Of course, he didn’t tell her everything. And he made some fibs.

  Instead of admitting he’d dug up the vampire, he put that blame on Peter. Ed left in the part about blowing a tire and finding the trail that had led him to the graveyard. But he said he’d found the grave disturbed and Peter had already been there with Dorothy.

  Bernice listened to everything without interrupting. Other than nodding at certain parts, she said nothing and didn’t move. Her eyes were fixed on Ed as she listened intently.

  When Ed was finished talking, he wanted to sleep.

  “And Mary Hogan has the vampire?” she said when he was finished. “She’s its keeper?”

  “I guess so.” His throat was dry and he wished he had something cold to drink.

  “Makes sense. It always goes to the scum of the earth—weak-minded people it can seduce into doing its bidding. They’re easy to manipulate with false promises of making them immortal. It might eventually turn her into one of its brood. Probably not, though. Just like a devil, it performs a devil’s tricks. Plus, they need people to care after them while they sleep during the daylight. People willing to die to protect them.”

  Though Ed shouldn’t, he felt bad for Mary. Like Ed, she’d been fooled into helping the creature. And Ed had put her in the position she hadn’t been able to refuse.

  “That’s all?” asked Bernice.

  “All I can remember for now.”

  Bernice nodded. “Okay.” Taking a deep breath, she looked at Ed and slowly let it out. “That explains enough for now. Your truck is still parked in the woods near the Plainfield Cemetery. I’ll drive you to your truck soon as I trust you’ll be all right to move around on your own.”

  “I can now.”

  “No. First, we have to get some food and water in you. See if you can keep it down. Head injuries like that can be tricky to treat. Sorry I had to give you a solid knock like that, but you left me no other choice. You looked mad and were praising your master. Thought a good bonk would bring you to your senses.”

  “It did. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. Our work’s just starting.”

  “Work?”

  “Yep. After I take you to get your truck, we’re going to your house to get you a change of clothes. Then we’re stopping by the store.”

  “We are?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Supplies.”

  “Oh.”

  “And weapons.”

  Ed shot up in the bed. The blanket fell away from him. Though his head pounded from the sudden movement, it wasn’t as bad as it had been minutes ago.” Weapons?”

  “Yes, weapons. Jesus, Ed. Think we’re going to go against vampires without some?”

  “We’re going to...” Ed felt his face scrunch up with his confusion. “Us?”

  “We’re going to pay a visit to Mary’s Tavern. I figure since things have been happening around Plainfield, the vampire has to be close by. And if she’s the vampire’s daylight protector, I doubt she’s hiding it at her house.”

  “Then what?”

  “We kill it.”

  “And Mary?”

  “Once the vampire is dead, the hold it has on her should be lifted.”

  “What about the kids?”

  Bernice made a doleful face. “It’s too late for them, which is very sad. We’ll have to kill them too. A stake through their hearts, or lop off their heads.”

  Ed tried processing everything she’d told him. Seemed she had an answer for everything, and all it brought him were more questions. “Bernice?”

  She was starting to stand when he spoke. Turning back to face him, she said, “Yes?”

  “How do you know so much about the vampire?”

  A corner of her mouth lifted into what might have been a grin, but there was no joy evident in her expression. “That’s a story I’ll tell you as we go along. Right now, you need to get up, use my bathroom. Clean yourself up a little. Mind the bandages on your hand, now.”

  Ed looked at his hand. The abraded fingers of his right had been bandaged, probably while he was out cold.

  “We’ll get you some water, we’ll eat, then we’ll hit the road.”

  -25-

  Timmy, on his stomach at the foot of his bed, turned the comic book’s page. Though he’d read the vampire comic enough times that he had each page, panel, and word memorized, the image he saw sent sickly warm tendrils thro
ugh his stomach. The woman was on all fours, leaned over a headstone as the vampire pushed against her backside. Her white gown covered most of her, but the artist left a lot of flesh bare. The side of her rump, upper thigh, where it bent at the knee, and the vampire on his knees behind her.

  Timmy leaned to the side, taking the pressure off his stiffening penis.

  He felt odd and jittery as he looked at the panels. Each block of artwork depicted a different angle of her pleasure. The final, half-page square, featured the vampire pulling her toward his chest by her flowing yellow hair and biting her neck. Blood sprayed from the puncture wounds, showering the dialogue boxes in crimson.

  The End.

  Timmy let out the breath he’d been holding. He whistled. “Wow.”

  His voice sounded loud and a tad squeaky in the quiet room. The whole house was quiet tonight, which made it easier to hear the wind outside. Specks pelted his window, making soft tapping sounds whenever the wind gave a hard gust.

  Like fingers…

  Timmy’s back felt as if ants were crawling up his spine. It didn’t help matters that his dad wasn’t home. He was out with the search parties. After Dorothy Clark’s parents were discovered this morning, Dad had spent most of the day at their house. He’d come home long enough to eat a quick, early supper. Timmy had been made to leave the dining room after he’d finished eating, but he’d hung around the doorway and eavesdropped on what his parents talked about.

  Dad suspected the Clarks had been killed by a wild animal. The teeth marks on the skin supported his idea. They’d probably gone looking for Dorothy during the night, against his warnings not to, and something followed them back to their house. Dad found claw markings on the floors, and body parts had been strewn all over. Before his parents had finished talking, Timmy snuck back to his room.

  Dad left a while ago.

  Timmy had tried to work on the invisible man story for Robin, but his mind had wandered too much for him to get anything done. He kept hoping she would call, but the telephone never made a sound. So he’d attempted to read a book. That hadn’t worked, either. Then he’d brought the comic out of hiding from the shoebox in his closet and had been skimming through it ever since.