The Blind Vampire Hunter

by Tim Forder

  “Lead the way, officer Dickson,” I answered.

  The two suits led the way with the two uniform constables following behind me. The procession went out the front door and turned left toward the alleyway, where I had dumped my dinner remains the night before. Was I worried? Of course not. These officers were just fishing for information, nothing more. Between my superior predatory night sight and my enhanced hearing during my feeding, I not only saw no one in the immediate area, but the closest heartbeats were coming from the IHOP two blocks away. No, these officers were just fishing and I was willing to bet, this fish was going to be the one who got away. As we walked out, I looked at my watch. We had a little over a half-hour before the current show ended and the next one began. I just hoped this production would be over by then.

  Walking into the dark outside was no problem. When we turned the corner, a bright light caught me unprepared. I started by reflex from the sudden light attack on my eyes.

  “Sorry, Miss Báthory, for not preparing you for this sight.”

  Bull. They set me up, wanting to test my reaction to this grotesque sight of death. I’ll play their game, for now.

  Acting indignant, I replied, “You walk me into this ... this horrid scene. How did you expect me to react ... to that?” I pointed in the direction of the murder scene. I did not have to look in that direction considering I was the one who staged it for the officers.

  “Again I apologize, but we were informed that you might possibly know the homicide victim. Please have a look ... as distasteful as such a sight will be, please tell us if you recognize this man.”

  Acting the part of a frail female, I made a point of hesitating to look at the presumed (by the uniformed fools) ghastly sight. When I did look, I responded, “Sorry, I do not know this poor fellow.”

  “Please Miss Báthory, have another, closer look. Could his be a customer of yours? Someone you possibly sold a movie ticket to?”

  I did as requested and acted as if I was getting a closer look. Then I acted as if I suddenly recognized the man. “My god, I do know this man ... that’s to say I did sell him a ticket. Yes, I remember him; he claimed I shorted him some money. He almost started a fight with another customer. One of your officers interceded before the squabble turned into a fight, and also before I got a chance to look into his dispute over the shortage. I never saw him again after that. I can’t say I even noticed him leave after the show.”

  “I have just a couple of questions. Can you tell me anything about the man you almost had the altercation with, in front of your ticket booth?

  “Nooo, I really can’t. Before anything really got started, one of your fine officers was present to end it before it really became an issue. I really did not give it another thought.”

  “Do you normally take care of the ticket sales?”

  “No, Ben, the employee who normally handles the ticket booth requested to leave early because he was not feeling well. He even looked a bit poorly, so I sent him home. In his absence, I resumed handling the ticket purchases myself. I handled it myself so we would not be short handed with the ushers and bouncers in the theater, if needed. No need to mention I could smell the illness was on Ben with my vampire senses. I’m sure you are aware of the occasional roughnecks that the movies bring in. You don’t suspect the other customer who was almost involved in the fight?”

  “No. This looks like a mugging, not a fight that’s gone too far. Sorry we had to call you out like this, but one of your employees recognized him as the customer that required lawful interference. We just wanted to see if you could verify this was the man and possibly give any additional information on him.”

  “Sorry I can’t be of more help. My short interaction with this fellow did give me the impression that he had a temper problem. Possibly that had something to do with his current condition. Officer Dickson, customers for the next show may be arriving soon. May I get back to my duties? Ben is still out sick and I was not able to get a replacement for him on such short notice. I am presently running the ticket booth yet again this night.”

  “Yes, you may go.” As I started to leave, he added, “One more thing, Miss Báthory, please take my card. Just in case something comes to mind that may be of help.” As I took his card, he continued, “Thank you again for your cooperation. Sorry we had to bring you out to see this ... unpleasant scene.”

  I could hardly say, “It was my pleasure,” so I just turned and walked back into the theatre. Currently, Tim, one of the ushers, was manning the ticket booth, so I was free to see to other managerial duties. When I relieved Tim, I locked myself inside the small room and prepared to think about work. Unfortunately, seeing last night’s dinner remains got me almost salivating over the possibilities for tonight’s dinner. I feel like Chinese tonight, maybe I’ll go over to Little China Town for dinner. Enjoy a little China man or two.

  Chapter Eleven

  Halloween

  When I was sighted, I used to make the children work for their candy. On our first Halloween as man and wife, we lived in a second floor apartment with a sliding glass door and a screen door that opened out onto the balcony. We really did not have money for decorations, but that did not stop me from enjoying the holiday. It was an unusually warm Halloween, so we had the sliding glass door open, but the screen door closed. When I heard children approaching, I would let loose a wolf howl. I put on a pair of werewolf gloves with claws, and when someone knocked on the door, I would open the door just enough to get my werewolf claws out, while growling behind the door. I would open the door oh, so slowly. Then I would have fun listening to the kids scream as they ran away. One little girl was especially memorable. After letting loose a real good wolf howl, I heard a little girl, from outside on the sidewalk, exclaim, “Daddy, that was scary.”

  I heard her father answer, “It’s alright. It’s just someone being playful. I bet they have really good candy for you.” When she gave a little knock on the door, I did my werewolf glove treatment, and then opened the door to the cutest little angel, who nervously announced, “Trick or treat.”

  For her bravery, I gave her four additional pieces of candy. With big eyes she said, “Thank you. I was almost too scared to come up here.” Then she ran back down the stairs to her father, who had a big grin on his face. That was it for my wife, who exclaimed, “Enough! You scare one more innocent child, and I will take the broom to you.”

  Smiling, I asked, “Is there such a creature as an innocent child?”

  In the following years, when we had the money, I would really prepare our place with the latest scary stuff. I would decorate like many would decorate a place for Christmas. The tradition died with the death of my eyesight.

  Imagine my surprise when my wife, who for years only gave out candy, went wild decorating the place for Halloween. I was totally taken by surprise when I stepped onto the walkway leading to my single-family home and heard the sounds of chattering teeth at my feet. The animated chattering skulls that also light up. I remember buying them. They were so cool to listen to and to watch in action. As I walked closer to the front door, I heard, “Go back. GOOO baaack.” The animated tombstone with the glowing green ghoul sitting on it. When someone got near it, the [motion activated] ghoul would turn his head, look their way, and give its warning. All so cool looking, back then. I opened the outer door to our front foyer and when I stepped in, I heard a laughing ghost do its thing. I thought Di had tossed that one in the trashcan since it would often cause ‘trick-or-treaters’ to run away, getting no candy for their efforts.

  The fun wasn’t over yet. I felt the front of the inner door and, sure enough, my favorite gargoyle door knocker was in the center. Using the ring in the gargoyle’s mouth made a noise like a really heavy knocker. Really cool.

  I only got to enjoy the knocker once when the door opened and a very familiar voice announced, “I want to bite your neck.”

  “Di?” I asked in astonishment.

  “Vampire Vixen Diana to you, mortal. Ente
r at your own risk.” I could tell from the slight slur in her voice that she was wearing some type of fangs. My good Christian wife, who would only dress up as a clown or an angel for church Halloween parties, was dressed as a vampire, a Vampire Vixen, no less. I moved in to give her a kiss, which failed as she stepped back and announced, “Don’t mess with the costume.” I did get my hands on her shoulders enough to feel a silk fabric...a vampire cape, it had to be.

  As I walked into the house, I said, “So tell me about this costume you’re wearing, and what’s the occasion? I don’t recall any Halloween party at church.”

  While I hung my white cane by the door, she answered, “It’s an off-the-shoulder peasant dress with a high-collared black vampire cape. The cape has a red interior with a black, satiny high collared exterior. Very sexy, if I do say so myself”

  “And the occasion?” I asked facing her. She had always insisted that I face her, even if I couldn’t see her while we talked.

  “It’s Halloween. I figure on having some fun this year with the trick-or-treaters.” Excitement was growing in her voice, “You should see this house. I have gotten out all your old Halloween goodies and really did up the house good.”

  “So I heard.”

  Excitement began growing wild in her voice, “That’s just the half of it. I have the dancing hanging skeleton hanging off the tree in the front yard.”

  She must have forgotten to flip the battery switch to turn that one on, or I would have heard the sound of shaking skeleton bones. “I thought you said that the hanging skeleton was too gross to put out?”

  “I changed my mind. But listen. Remember that Warning: Haunted House sign?” Not waiting for an answer, she continued, “Isabella gave me permission to hang that in her front bedroom window.”

  That’s nice of her, considering we are talking about the front window of OUR house. What I said was, “Why didn’t you just put it in the living room window?”

  “Remember that old hand-waving, animated, Dracula? It’s sitting in the front window,” she answered still full of excitement.

  I had liked all this for Halloween back when I could see the trick-or-treaters. But now I was becoming concerned. This was sooo not Di. It was so unlike Di that it was actually scary. (I don’t mean Halloween scary, I mean really scary.)

  When it was time for the trick-or-treaters, I hung out in the living room and did get some fun listening to the screams coming from our front yard. There was also much excited talk from the trick-or-treaters about which was more scary, the Ghoul Tomb, the Chattering Skulls, etc.. Di really got into the vampire bit, to the point of scaring some of the kids. Later, I learned that some of the trick-or-treaters were freaking out over the candy dish which had a skeleton hand that came out and grabbed the candy grabbers. Again, I thought Di had tossed that into the trash because it was too scary for the kids. What was really scaring me was listening to Di announce, “I want to bite your neck” to the trick-or-treaters. It just was so not like her. She said it with such feeling that I wondered if she was playing for the kids or really did want to bite their necks...really freaky. This had to be the influence of our boarder, our vampire boarder.

  Even Eric made the same observation the next day, “Man, I have never seen your wife look as hot as she did in that vampire outfit. And the house. My little one liked to walk my legs off. Nowhere did I see a scary house that matched yours. Joey would only walk up for some candy after I reminded him that it was his aunt and uncle’s house.” With a change in voice from awe to concealing, he added, “Talk about scary. You should have seen my wife. She dressed up in one of her mother’s outfits, with pillow padding underneath, and a grey wig. She looked so much like her mother. Scary, really scary. Would you believe last night I even had a nightmare that I was married to my mother-in-law?” I could literally hear Eric cringe as he said the last part.

  I spoke my mind, “Eric, that was so not like Di. I fear she has had some adverse reaction from having Isabella around. Last night she was playing vampire, Vampire Vixen, no less. What’s next?”

  “You don’t think, assuming your boarder is a vampire, that she’d turn Di into a vampire? Do you?” Before I could answer, he continued, “Look, remember what I said months ago about why she would not shit where she lives? She’s been with you, what, about three months, right?”

  “Right...”

  “And no one in your home or in the neighborhood has been hurt, right?”

  “There were those two boys who disappeared last month,” I answered.

  “And the police suspect it was a gang-related event,” Eric answered argumentatively. “Gang related.”

  “Right, and how many gangs do we have around here?” I almost yelled back in frustration. Last night was not natural for Di, not natural at all, Di was acting like Halloween was Christmas and dressing like a sexy vampire to a bunch of kids, not natural at all.

  “Eric, could the vampire be changing my wife into a vampire, or maybe a vampire slave?”

  After a thoughtful pause, Eric replied, “I have seen in movies and read in books where vampires can influence those around them. If I remember right, you had suspicions that Isabella was using Diana to keep you and her apart, right?”

  “Right.”

  “OK, maybe if Isabella is a vampire, I say “if,” then possibly Isabella is influencing your wife...”

  “My god, she is...”

  Interrupting me, he continued, “Is not turning your wife into a vampire, but her forcing her psyche on Di may be having an effect on your wife’s character. From everything I have seen and read about vampires, this manipulation on her psyche could have a temporary effect on your wife’s character, but only a temporary one.”

  Eric continued, “Look man, I have been keeping an eye on our Isabella Báthory.” He then changed his tone to mimic Groucho Marx, “a very tough job if I say so myself.” Changing back to his almost serious tone, he continued, “Outside of her working every night, I see nothing strange about her.”

  “Oh, you found nothing strange in her not appearing in my watch shields?”

  “You know, I had forgotten that. I really had forgotten that.... I must have been mistaken, I must have been.” I could not help but notice that such a serious Eric was also not natural. “Remember, Jack, we don’t live in Buffy Land where vampires are everywhere and where you can stake a vampire and have the evidence conveniently turn to dust. You stake our Isabella Báthory and afterward you’re going to have a dead body with a wooden stake in her heart and a murder one charge on your head. Face reality man, no court in the land is going to believe you staked a vampire who goes to work every night. By the way, I have been meaning to mention a little phone call I had some weeks back. One day I called the theatre where our Isabella Báthory works and asked to speak with her. I was told she only works the graveyard shift and to call back at night. So now we do know for sure that she is a working girl, and I don’t mean a streetwalker. Remember Jack, if you kill Isabella Báthory in some queer act of conscience to rid the world of a vampire, you had better have some real proof that she is a real Vampire or your goose will be cooked ... and jailed.”

  Meanwhile, Halloween party night in Georgetown D.C.

  * * * *

  The one night of the year I get off from work and want to get off from work. The one night of the year I can show my true colors and not worry about it. The one night I can boldly display my fangs. My night. And Georgetown, talk about a smorgasbord. All I have to worry about is feeding on a drunk with alcohol-laced blood. On second thought, what if I do get a little tipsy–THIS IS MY NIGHT.

  This is one amazing crowd. A voice interrupted my musings, “Hey beautiful. Does your mother know you’re out tonight?” A man in a tux was trying to look affluent and failing. The pose just did not match the outfit, but then what I was interested in what was under the outfit, and he did look and smell healthy.

  “And who, pray tell, are you?” I all but purred.

  “Bond, James Bond,”
he answered, pulling a toy pistol from under his tuxedo jacket. “You look like a Bond girl to me.”

  My first meal was about to be served up. I moved in, made direct eye contact, and using my best hypnotic voice I said, “What do you do for a living?”

  “I work in the mailroom of a major corporation,” he almost wheezed.

  Maintaining my hypnotic tone, I continued, “Well, Mr. Bond, James Bond, you are about to receive the hickey of your life. You will proudly show off in the mailroom tomorrow at work.” Then I eased my fangs up to his neck and gently, smoothly put the bite on him.

  He almost sunk to the ground from the orgasmic pleasure he was getting from my loving hickey. I had been prepared for such a reaction and had a hand placed under his arm, in his armpit, to hold him up. I was enjoying my dining, but I only took a small amount from him. There would be plenty of others to snack on this Halloween night. Tonight, all my crimson candy was going to be snack sized. No need to kill anyone this night. When I finished with ‘James Bond’, I pulled back. He looked like a man who had just lost his virginity. I realized that while I dined, as many as a couple of dozen partygoers may have observed what was going on. All would only assume we were a couple of lovers necking in plain sight, sucked into the festivities of the night. I simply left him awash in his own dreams of what had just happened. I was sure that by the next work day, he would have some wild story to go with his Halloween hickey.

  I just moved on, allowing myself to be sucked into the crowd and into the festive night air. It did nag me a little that I had no idea who this “Bond, James Bond” was. I soon lost this minor annoyance within the overabundance of festive outfits. I particularly fancied the ghosts, goblins and the other vampires that were out in multitude. Eventually it did begin to bother me that out of the overabundance of fellow costumed vampires, there was not one who was a real vampire like me. “I want to bite your neck,” interrupted my concern about the lack of real vampires. Suddenly, standing right at my side in the crowd of revelers was this big hunk of a vampire. Shame he was just another phony. Even within the noisy crowd I could hear his heartbeat and smell the humanity on him.