by Leo Romero
It’s the glasses! It’s the glasses! his mind stammered in disbelief. They’re working!
They then slipped down the bridge of his nose. Dom tilted his head back, desperate to make sure he was staring at his attacker through the lenses. He prayed they didn’t slip off altogether, break, or the enraged vamp tore them from his face. He badly wanted to push them up his nose, but both his hands were preoccupied grabbing the lapels of the robe draped over the vamp. He hung in there, his neck and chin jutting back to keep his eyes in line with the blue lenses.
“Why won’t you stick?” the vamp then raged, frustrated in his futile attempts to lock his prey in place. “Huh?”
Dom gritted his teeth. “I’m here to kill you!” he sneered through his clenched teeth.
The vampire’s eyes momentarily widened in fear. “Who sent you?” he snapped. “How did you find me?”
Instead of answering, Dom took the initiative before his glasses slipped off completely. He threw all his weight back against the vamp; he staggered backward, thumping into the wardrobe. Old wood splintered. The vamp groaned, teetered, and then fought back. He thrust against the tide with all his might. Dom was forced across the floorboards like a child fighting against a wild bull. He yelped in both fear and surprise. His heels hit the edge of the mattress and he reeled. His feet went airborne. His heart shot up to his throat as he fell helplessly through the air. A second later, a hot pain shot through him as his back hit the floorboards. The wind flew from his chest and he was suddenly struggling to breathe. He thrashed around on the floor like a dying fish, his chest heaving as if struggling under a severe asthma attack. Before he had a chance to even zone back in, the vamp was on top of him, a snarl of hate tattooed on his face. He pinned Dom down to the floorboards. Something metal dangling around his neck hung down, brushing Dom across the nose as it swung this way and that. Dom tried to fight back, but the vamp’s strength was immense; it felt like being pinned by a rhino. He was locked in place, unable to move.
Christ, this guy’s strong...
His mind urged him to fight, but it was useless. It was like trying to fight against a juiced-up WWE wrestler. Dom watched a sick grin begin to spread across the vamp’s face. He knew he had his prey where he wanted it. Now, all he had to do was...
He planted a cold claw on Dom’s jaw and snapped his head to the side. Dom’s cheek jammed into the floorboards. He tried to speak, but only muffled groans escaped him. Now, his throat was exposed, his jugular pulsing, hot and ready to be opened. The vamp widened his mouth and moved in. Dom mustered all the strength he had left, struggled against the inevitable, but it was pointless. He was an insect caught in a Venus Flytrap.
And he was about to become food.
The vamp’s jaws closed in on Dom’s throat. Once they sunk in, he’d get that jab of venom and then he’d be back to where he was; a slave to a vamp. Fear juddered through his veins. “No, no, no!” he managed, but the vamp’s fangs drew closer to his throat regardless.
Dom tried to pull his head away. Now, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something lying on the floorboards nearby. The dart gun.
He gasped.
He felt cold, rubbery lips touch his throat.
He threw out a desperate arm, his hand landing on the equally cold dart gun. Without thinking, he closed his fingers around the handle, and brought it around across the air. The horror of sharpened ivory touched his throat; he screamed out in pain and agony, his mind a hot whirl of uncertainty and fear. He jammed the muzzle of the dart gun into the ribs of his attacker. He pulsed the trigger. There was a small phut! The vamp jerked back, the dread of his fangs giving Dom’s throat respite. He snapped his head around to meet Dom’s anxious stare. Now, Dom saw a different look in his eye; a worry, a fear, a statement that said ‘what did you do to me?’
Dom watched him with baited breath. Please make them darts work. Please make them work! his mind gibbered. PLEASE MAKE THEM WORK!
The vamp turned his head to the side. Dom watched his jaw open up again, locking eyes on the terror of those gleaming fangs. The vamp slowly turned back to face him, his teeth bared and ready. Dom’s heart sank. The strength had left him, and he knew at any moment those teeth would be plunging into his neck, cause guess what, buddy? Yeah, those darts just don’t work. They’re duds. She scammed you, and you believed her...
His chest locked tight, fear assaulting every part of him. Please no, please no...
He watched helpless as the vamp titled his head back, that mouth cavernous and ready to strike like the open jaws of an attacking cobra.
But it never came.
From somewhere, Dom felt the buildup of tremors. His eyes rolled around in confusion as the vamp’s limbs began to mildly vibrate. Dom watched in confusion as the vamp’s face started to shake and tremble; it was like he were experiencing some kind of inner earthquake. His jaw shuddered, a nasty guttural noise chugging out from his throat with every quiver. Dom slunk back in repulsion. The vamp continued to tremor, his grip on Dom suddenly loosening. Dom seized the opportunity. He pushed the vamp away with all his might. The vamp flew through the air like he was a toy. He bounced across the floorboards, the bodily vibrations growing with every passing second.
Dom rolled away to the side, got up on his elbows and watched on.
The vamp was now convulsing on the floorboards as if they were electrically charged. His fangs juddered together; a nasty clacking sound echoed through the room. His hands shot into the air, his fingers curling into claws. A hot, pain-riddled screech shot from his mouth that sounded to Dom like cats serenading in Hell. He shrunk back in fear against what he was seeing and hearing, not really knowing what he was witnessing.
He glanced down at his hand to see the dart gun still in his grip. Then it became clear. The chick with the green eyes hadn’t let him down.
The darts worked.
He looked back at the vamp. He was now spasming heavily, that nasty screech ongoing. What’s going on with him? Dom asked himself.
Before he could come up with an answer, the vamp’s back straightened; it came off the floorboards with the flexibility of a gymnast. Everything went rigid. The screeching stopped. And then he came crashing back to the floorboards.
Everything then went calm. Silent.
The buzzing in Dom’s spine abruptly shut off like the music at the end of a party.
Dom kept his eyes on the vamp’s motionless body, wary of it springing back into life. It lay where it was. Unmoving and hopefully dead.
Dom caught his breath. What the hell just happened?
Holy water, buddy. She told you.
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned in exhaustion, his head flopping back onto the floorboards. Terrified excitement juddered through him like he’d just come off a fairground ride. His chest heaved.
Man, that was intense... he thought to himself between heavy breaths.
It ain’t over yet, buddy, a voice piped up in his mind. You still gotta get him outta here...
Dom rolled his eyes to the side to meet the dead vamp sprawled on the floor.
He grabbed his forehead. “Oh, man...” he groaned.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Dom got to his feet straight away. He knew he didn’t have much time before the guards got back to their posts. He had to get the body to his car, then over to Beauchamp’s for him to see that the vamp was actually dead. If he didn’t, he might hold back on his ransom. And Dom couldn’t afford to risk that. But, something else then came up. He just now remembered that his car was parked in that garage across the street.
He grabbed his forehead. I haven’t planned this well at all. How am I gonna carry a body across street to the trunk of my car without risking anyone seeing?
Then it hit him like a fully charged stun gun.
The rug on the upstairs landing.
He could wrap Dracula up in that, so if a car rushed by him or someone walked past on the sidewalk, at first glance, they’d just see some guy carrying a rug on his
shoulder. Even if they did think of looking twice, the body would be nicely hidden from view.
Good idea, buddy, now get going before tweedledum and tweedledee come back.
He stuffed his dart gun in his belt and before leaving the room. There was enough light spilling out of the room he was just in to put the landing in gloom. He could make out the stairwell, where the rug was. He went straight for it, no longer concerned by the noise the floorboards made. The house had been cleared. Another good thing was that the annoying tingling up and down his spine had stopped. That made things easier. He reached the rug. Before he picked it up, he poked his head down the stairwell. Sleeping Beauty was still catching Z’s. Nice. He turned back, grabbed the edge of the rug and rolled it up. He grabbed it and then took it back to the vampire’s bedroom. Once in there, he slung the rug down next to his dead body. It hit the floorboards with a thwump! Dust was sent raining all over the vamp. Dom then unraveled the rug. The two lay next to one another, one waiting for the other.
Your carriage awaits...
The vamp’s dead face stared up at him as Dom went and stood over him. His eyes were black, like the eyes of a shark. They totally lacked that ‘icing’ glimmer. They looked freaky; nasty. Dom shivered. He went to pick him up but felt repulsed; he didn’t wanna lay a finger on him.
Come on, buddy. You gotta get that body in that rug and over to Beauchamp’s. Now, stop pussying out and pick him up!
Dom swallowed, even though his mouth was dry. He swiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He composed himself, then reached down and grabbed the vamp under the armpits. He groaned. It felt horrible; heavy, cold like a joint of meat ready for the barbeque. He looked away in disgust, nausea suddenly rising in the pit of his stomach.
Am I actually lugging around a dead body?
Yeah, you are, bud!
I think I’m gonna throw up.
He glanced down; the vamp’s head lolled back and his dead, blank eyes stared up at him. Dom immediately turned away, not wanting to stare into those dead eyes. His nausea got worse; it was like picking up a dead rat. His stomach churned.
Get it together, buddy!
He became still and repeatedly puffed his cheeks while he waited for his nausea to pass. He tried to make his mind go blank, forget about the body in his grip. He closed his eyes. Okay, buddy. On three.
One.
Two.
Three.
He opened up his eyes again and lifted. The body came away from the floor. Dom stood upright, the bare heels of the vamp the only thing now touching the floorboards. He was surprisingly light considering how tough he was. Dom wasn’t about to question that; the lighter, the better.
He turned his head to the side, his eyes fixed on the rug. He headed for it, dragging the body over. The whole time he had a creepy feeling that the body was gonna come to life in his hands. It triggered that nausea again.
Don’t think about crap like that! Just get him on that rug!
He yanked the body across; his heels now touched the rug. He dropped him. He fell in a heap across the rug, arms splayed. Dom caught his breath. He looked down at his hands in disgust. They were dirty, sweaty. He wiped them on his pants, feeling like he’d caught some kind of disease. He looked down. The vamp in the robe was sprawled across the rug. He went and neatened him up; shoved his legs across, brought his arms down. He even crossed them over his chest so he resembled an Egyptian mummy. He nodded. Now he just had to roll him up.
He bent down, grabbed the edge of the rug and lifted it up the side of the body. He then grabbed it from below and pushed. At first it wouldn’t go, so he applied more pressure, his teeth clenched. Slowly, the body lifted up onto its side. He put more into it, and finally, he hit that sweet spot. The vamp and the rug began rolling away, momentum taking them across the floor. Dom got on his haunches and helped it along, rolling it over and over. The body wrapped nice and tight inside it as it rolled. He ran out of rug to roll; the loose flap came out on top. Dom trapped it and bought everything to a stop. Job done.
Good work, buddy.
Dom let out a satisfied sigh and dusted his hands. He grinned to himself. The body was nicely concealed inside. The top of his head was still visible, but as his hair was black and the rug was a very dark color itself it wasn’t so easy to spot. When he went over and checked the other end. Luckily, the rug was just the right size; you could only see the soles of his feet if you looked really closely...
Dom thanked his lucky stars for the rug being there. Without it, the next and final part of the job would’ve been much harder. Snug as a bug in a rug.
He shivered.
He checked the time again: 1:54. He should still be okay to get out before they came back. He smiled. After a hairy start, things worked out okay in the end.
He stood astride the rolled-up rug and put an arm round each side of it, getting it in a bear hug. He steadied himself, then heaved it up with a groan and stood upright, the whole thing coming with him. He gave himself a second to catch his breath while preparing for the second part of the lift. When ready, he flipped it up onto his shoulder in one smooth motion. He teetered this way and that for a second or two while he adjusted to the new load.
Easy, buddy!
He managed to steady himself, his free hand held out to the side. He gave himself a confident nod; the rug and its contents were pretty easy to handle from there. Now it was time to leave. He plucked his Zippo from his pocket, sparked her up, then headed slowly back out to the corridor and toward the stairs, the package safely on his shoulder. On reaching the stairs, he slowly began to make his way down them, being extra careful to plant a solid foot on every step. When he eventually reached Sleeping Beauty, he eased carefully past him, doing everything possible to keep his balance. He still slept like a baby. Once that hurdle had been negotiated and he was back in the entrance hall, he stopped, and then slowly placed the rug down onto the floorboards so he could rest for a second. He placed his hands on his knees and exhaled.
Man, that was tiring.
Don’t worry, buddy. You only gotta go across the street now...
He groaned under his breath. He then grabbed his jacket from the floor where he’d left it when he first came in. He put it on and zipped it up. He dusted it down. Just a regular Joe, carrying a rug to his car. That’s all I am.
He was pretty confident he could get away with a quick glance. A twinge of excitement suddenly flittered through him. I might just get away with this! What a mastermind!
Now reenergized, he hopped over to the package and picked it up once more, hoisting it back up on his shoulder. He steadied himself, then went to leave. He grabbed the metal sheet/door to pull it away. An abrupt voice outside stopped him dead in his tracks. His eyes widened.
“There it is!”
Dom froze his ears pricking.
“In the deckchair like last time, huh?” came another voice.
“Yeah, it must’ve fallen out my pocket. It’s these frickin’ jeans, man. The pockets probably got holes in em.”
“It ain’t the jeans that’s got the holes, dude; it’s your brain!”
They stopped talking for a second. Then:
“Shall we check on Drake?”
Dom instantly reached down with his free hand and grabbed the rubber mallet he still carried in his belt. He lifted it up by the side of his face, his chest tightening. If they came in, he would have to fight. He’d have no choice.
“Check on Drake? Why?”
“Dunno. Got a weird feeling. Can’t explain it but something ain’t right.”
Dom’s eyes bulged in alarm, his heart shooting up to his throat.
“You’re imagining things, man. Nothing’s wrong. Marlon can handle any trouble.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right...”
A sigh of relief bolted from Dom’s chest. He put away his mallet. He wiped the sweat now dripping off his forehead with the back of his hand. He gave them a few seconds to start talking again, but they didn’t
. Only the odd caw of a crow could be heard. He turned his attention back to the unconscious guy on the ground. Marlon. At least he now knew for sure that there really were three guards. That and the vamp’s name was... Drake. He rolled his eyes to the side to be met with the rug on his shoulder (Snug as a bug in a rug!).
“Nice to meet your acquaintance, Drakey boy!” he whispered to it.
He took a small sidestep and eased his neck around the edge of the metal shutter. Through the crack, he could see the two assholes now sitting in their deckchairs again.
He huffed. They came back early... The first time in four frickin’ days, they decide to come back early. Today of all days! Why? Maccy D’s out of Double Quarter Pounders? His mind began to work hard, making his head hurt. He couldn’t walk out the front now, not with them sitting there. Yeah, he could just imagine walking past them with the rug on his shoulder, giving them a wave and a story about him being the ‘removals service’ they’d called for earlier. No way; he needed another way out. He stared up the stairs and instantly shook his head. Where would he go once he got back up there? He sighed as he scanned the corridor.
His eyes fell on the kitchen.
There had to be a back door in there; one leading to a back yard that he could hit the street from. He nodded; it was his only choice. But what if the back door’s blocked up like the front windows? Well, he’d just have to pray...
He didn’t waste another second. He got moving through the hallway with quick, but quiet footsteps until he entered the gloomy kitchen. He went past an old fridge that smelt funky, bare cupboards, and a sink full of dirty, broken dishes. When he reached the end of the kitchen, his Zippo lit up a door. The windows had been nailed over with pieces of wood to keep the sunlight out. He put his lighter away and then reached for the handle, briefly closing his eyes and praying for it to be unlocked. He turned the handle. It clicked in his hand. The door came open, a glorious sliver of light shining through. Relief shot through him. He swung the door open fully; it went with a creak. Dom allowed himself a chuckle; maybe his luck was turning...
