by Ian Hall
I didn’t say anything, though. Most of the time I’d spent with Jackson his emotional state had hovered somewhere between bummed out and someone killed his grandma. It was cool to see him actually excited about something.
Of course, I just hoped this Helsing wasn’t going to be in a frame of mind to kill us.
Break a Leg
To my surprise, they left us alone for a while, shifting themselves into the kitchen. I heard wine bottles pop. The chink of glasses.
Mary-Christine and I exchanged hopeless looks. I couldn’t see a way out.
Mom was in a bad way, she openly cried, still looking at dad’s body, blood slowly dripping from his mouth and neck.
“Don’t worry, Mom,” I said quietly. “We’ll think of something.”
I meant every word, but did despair of the avenue of rescue.
I tensed my leg against the duct tape bond of the wooden leg, and I heard a tear.
I tensed, but gave more pressure, it tore again. I left it there, knowing that one last move would free my leg.
I began to put pressure on the other one.
After ten minutes of drinking, they came back into the dining room with Sharon and Jeff in tow.
“Would you like to feast on the dad for a while?” Billy said to Sharon.
She turned and gave me a wicked look. I don’t mind telling you, she managed to be spine-chilling, and terribly sexy at the same time. “I’ll leave my feast ‘til later. Maybe I’ll pop his cherry first.”
Without warning, Elizabeth and Jahred vanished, obviously gone to do their alibi bit with the mayor.
I knew mom would be next, and with huge tears in my eyes, I also knew I couldn’t think of a thing I could do to save her. Billy had the Jasperine spear at Mary-Christine’s midriff.
Chink! Open blades.
Chink! Closed.
In the open choice; I chose Mary-Christine. Sorry mom.
I pushed harder on the tape. Still nothing.
Jeff strode forward and began pacing behind the chairs, he suddenly stopped behind Mary-Christine, and reaching forward, grabbed her breasts. I rocked my chair in frustration.
“You fucking touch her, Jeff…” I hissed through clenched teeth.
“And you’ll what?” Billy mocked, leaning over dad’s inert form.
“I’ll do the same as I did for Jim!” My lips were drawn back in a sneer; I knew my nostrils flared, “I’ll hammer a piece of African hardwood into your heart!”
Both Billy and Jeff instantly stood back.
“I watched his bones crumble,” I continued, frantic to push any kind of doubt into their minds. “I took his last breath.” I looked from one senior to the next. “I pig-stuck him to the table like the animal he was!”
Billy gave a chuckle. “Jeff, leave Twinkle Tits to me. Go feast on mommy bear.” He leant down low to me. “Remember, Red. One shout, and Tinkerbell gets the Jasperine. I don’t care if I feast from her neck, or drink through the holes in her belly! She’d dead.”
Jeff rounded on mom, kissing her, nuzzling like Elizabeth had done to dad, undoing her gag as he did so. “Hello, Mrs. Bracks,” he breathed.
I could see mom’s eyes misting over for a second, then opening wide, looking for the source of the nectar. With a pair of kitchen scissors, he first cut her hands free, then her legs. Like a gentleman taking her onto the dance floor, Jeff took her hand and raised her to her feet. Grinning over the circle to me, he sat on her chair and patted his crotch. “Why don’t you sit here?”
I tensed against the second leg. I almost pissed my pants when the bond began to give way. I thought everyone in the living room had heard it.
My wrists were tied with rope, too, but it was a start. Now I had to wait for the right time.
Mom had her back to me, but I knew she didn’t take her eyes off his. Lifting her skirt past her waist, she straddled Jeff, and took to his mouth like a rabid dog. They made out for a while, and he loosened her clothing between them, throwing the garments over her shoulders. Soon she sat naked from the waist up, and he was rummaging under her skirt. Then he ripped her knickers from her in a flash. Mom didn’t even flinch. Still they kissed, the squelchy sounds echoing round the silent room.
Jeff adjusted himself, then right before my eyes, she began to hump him; small upward moves, followed by strong downward jabs, each one punctuated by a short breathless grunt.
Jeff looked around her thrusting body and jeered at me. “She likes it.”
Then his eyes changed, and just as she tensed, he thrust his mouth over her neck and tore the main artery. Blood spurted for a second, then he covered the wound and drank.
Our eyes met over the empty circle.
“You’re fucking dead,” I mouthed over to him.
When he’d drained her, he stood and simply threw her over his shoulder, her limp, lifeless body landing with a crash near the table.
Jeff stood. Then took two steps towards me.
He sneered. He hadn’t even bothered to re-zip his pants.
I snapped, thrusting myself to my feet, breaking the leg bonds off the chair as I rose. Jeff stood in amazement. I jumped, spinning in a crazy jumping arc, swinging the chair behind me. I took them all by surprise.
My flailing chair caught Jeff squarely across the chin, smashing his jaw into many pieces. Blood and teeth flew out of the circle.
I stood, a maniacal roar on my lips as Jeff slumped to the floor beside me.
I looked Billy in the eyes, and grinned. “Too late!” I said, and jumped up, bringing the chair under my backside again.
With a jar of shattering bones, I landed the chair’s wooden leg directly onto Jeff’s ribcage, right on his heart. His piercing scream could have been heard miles away. To my pleasure, the wooden leg crunched past his ribs, into his chest. With a loud grunt, I jumped again, thrusting my backside onto the chair, finishing the job.
Jeff wailed his last sound as a vampire, then died.
Billy the vampire looked frantic, stepping back and forward, brandishing the spear. Sharon the vampire screamed at the top of her voice, hands to her face, looking down at Jeff’s lifeless body. Mary-Catherine the Helsing roared at me, laughter all over her face. “Kill them all!”
I watched with the ultimate detachment as Billy plunged the Jasperine spear into my belly.
Silence suddenly filled the room.
Then I laughed. The pain was incredible, but I still managed a laugh. “I may go to my maker,” I roared, “but I know I’ve done my job as a Helsing!”
Billy’s eyes opened in fear.
I knew that I had him. I laughed again.
Then he flipped the switch.
Chink! Kind of muffled this time.
Muffled, because my insides had taken the brunt of the six slicing blades.
Oh. That hurt. I held my breath, coughing lightly.
A thousand jabbing pains invaded my belly.
Jackson found the address Alan had given him easily enough. There were three cars in the drive and one on the curb.
“We were right,” he said, leaning over the steering wheel to get a good view, “that looks like Jeff’s car.”
I nodded. “He followed me and Craig all over Everton for about three hours. I’m pretty sure that’s it.”
“Jeff Fielding is now the one in charge.”
“Beanpole, right? One of Alan’s gang?”
“Yeah. That’s the guy.”
Jackson pulled the keys out of the ignition and went for the door handle. I grabbed him back.
“Wait! Are you sure about this? What if Alan was bullshitting you about this guy being a Helsing? For all you know, we could be walking into a trap.”
“Alan had no reason to lie to me, Mandy. Trust me - I did a good job convincing him that I was his friend.”
“For all the good that did Mona and Steve. He still ripped their heads off.”
That got Jackson to think for a moment. But his head seemed so set on meeting a real-live Helsing that no other tho
ught could sink in.
“You can wait here if you want. I’ll wave you in after I assess the environment. For all we know that’s not Jeff’s car at all.”
Now he got frustrated with me. “Like I said - just wait it out for a few minutes. I’m sure everything is kosher and I’ll be calling you in shortly.”
Jackson popped the handle and stepped out into the street before I had a chance to say another word. He got about as far as the front lawn before I caught up to him. He only paused long enough to shoot me an annoyingly smug smile.
“I knew you wouldn’t let me go it alone.”
“Don’t be so sure. If he starts spraying me with his deadly blood, I’m totally using you as a shield.”
A huge crash like a table or something big and solid sounded from inside the Helsing’s house, interrupting us. Jackson ran up to the window first. I ran right behind.
I didn’t get much of a chance to take it in; the scene inside was of utter chaos. I’m a vampire and it scared the heck out of me. A circle of chairs sat in the center of the room. One held one dead body, and another, a woman’s, was being thrown across the room. She was mostly naked, but definitely dead.
Then Jeff Fielding, beanpole, stood up, erection sticking out of his fly.
Then the guy tied to the chair jumped up, and spun it like some weird Kung Fu style whirl-kick. The chair leg smashed Jeff’s face in.
Ouch.
Then he jumped up in the air, whipped the chair under him and landed the leg right on Jeff.
Oh, I knew that scream. I cringed. Helsing boy had just put Jeff Fielding into the grave.
Then he did a little jump with the chair, making sure. Man, this was some bad-ass vampire-killer. I looked at him again, and recognition dawned. The geek who’d stared at my boobs so longingly. Lysol, Leeman – Lyman!
Man, he’d changed a lot in a few months.
Besides him, the only living human left was this girl, also tied to a chair and wailing her head off. Jackson broke down the front door with no problem but he couldn’t get through the opening. Neither could I for that matter. We were vampires; no entry without permission.
I remember Jackson shouldering at the invisible barrier like he could possibly bust through it. He even begged the screaming girl to let us in but she seemed so hyper and freaked out, she was no good to anybody.
“Let us in! We can help!” Jackson roared.
She looked up and caught my eye. “Invite us in!” I cried.
I saw the pennies begin to drop.
“Invite us in, you fucking idiot! We can help!”
Somehow she stopped crying, and pulled herself together for just a second. “Help me.” She mouthed, and we just fell inside, slipping on the door.
Just in time to see Jock stick the big spear into Lyman’s belly.
That had to hurt.
For a moment, we stood, getting our bearings, then a metallic ‘clink’ noise, and Lyman stiffened, his hands gripping the chair. The air was suddenly infused with the smell of vinegar.
Jackson and I both sprang at the other vampires. He took on Jock, and I hit the girl. I don’t remember much besides just grabbing, pulling, and then the snap of her neck. Suddenly another arrived and I jumped back in again, biting, ripping, then going for my signature move, the neck-from-body maneuver. Rip, tear, vampire gone.
I stood breathing heavily, and looked round the room. Jackson and I were the only ones standing.
“Goddamn it! He’s almost dead!” Jackson said, going over to the Helsing. “He’s on his last legs, Mandy. He’s about gone.”
I finally caught a good look at Lyman, the red headed, vinegar-blooded Helsing. Just like that, it came back to me. Sitting there, on the planter box at Gregor Academy, staring at my boobs like he’d never seen a pair before. That nerd had turned into the big hero?
Jackson went to inspect him. I went to untie the girl. She still hadn’t pulled it all together, and I wasn’t sure releasing her would be a good idea.
“Take it out!” she hollered at me.
I tried to be calm. But, she had the same foul-smelling blood as Lyman. Miss Cute-and-Hysterical was a Helsing, too.
“Wait!” Jackson held his hand up. “That noise we heard - that clinking noise? Has that thing got blades?”
Cute Helsing girl swallowed big-time. Her eyes closed slowly. “Yes.”
“Then we can’t do that. It’ll kill him.”
“Then what’s left to do?” she wailed. “I love him!”
“There’s only one way…” Jackson said; but it wasn’t like he was talking to me, just stating a fact out loud.
Once I saw his face, though, I knew exactly what he was thinking. He had that religious cherub look. Forgetting the girl, I went to stop Jackson before he got any dumber.
“No!” I yelled.
“Yes!”
“NO! You said his blood is as good as poison to us!”
“He’ll die if I don’t, Mandy!”
“You’ll die if you do!”
Jackson’s eyes were wild and bright. He laughed as he spoke, “That doesn’t matter! He’s the one God sent to abolish those like me!”
“No, Jackson, you’re wrong. God sent you to me…to be my family. You’re all I have left…”
The Cutesy looked from one of us to the other. Her boyfriend was dying, and she knew that we had a solution. “What are you talking about?”
“There’s only one way.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Jackson kissed my forehead, smiling. “May this one final act save my already damned soul.”
I let him go then, remembering my visions of being boiled for all eternity and knowing that Jackson - the one vampire who never hurt anybody - deserved so much better than that.
He held Cutesy by the shoulders. Looked her in the eye.
“Listen, I’ve got to suck his blood, then give it back to him.”
She shook her head. She had now passed the crying stage, and shook her head in complete denial. “He’ll be a vampire.”
“Better than dead.”
“But you’ll die…”
He seemed to make his peace in seconds, and a look of calm flashed over his face. “Just remember…” he sniffed real loud. “Vampires don’t cry.”
He turned to Lyman’s neck, bit deep, and drank, crying out as the poison blood rushed down his throat. I cried for two reasons: his pain and his soul’s release from suffering. After a moment, Jackson’s head surged back from Lyman. It seemed unbearable, watching the pain written across his face was a difficult pill to swallow.
Then he drew his knife and slit his wrist. Not a small, ‘let’s convert a vampire’ slit, I’m talking halfway through his arm. Blood spurted from his artery, and he positioned it over Lyman’s open mouth.
The ginger drank. He really didn’t have the strength to deny it, but he did drink.
He drank until Jackson dropped to the floor, dying.
I went to my friend and cradled his head in my lap, watching his eyes fade and the smile that stretched across his face.
I watched television. A wonderful, beautiful television show.
Starring Mandy the Cheerleader with the nice tits. She quarreled with Sharon. Then Sharon’s head flew off.
So, a comedy show then.
Starring Mary-Christine, but in slow motion.
Mandy’s friend was good at ripping heads off, too. Billy’s was next.
I found that funny. I tried to laugh, but I hurt, deep inside my stomach. My laugh wouldn’t come.
“Take it out!” Mary-Christine said in slow motion, her voice deep and baritone.
“It’ll kill him.” Mandy didn’t only have nice tits, she looked pretty, too. And intelligent. I liked that. Yes, pulling it out would kill me. I knew that.
“There’s only one way.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Wishing someone would make up their mind
s, Mandy’s friend leant over and bit my neck. Neither of us liked it much. He roared in pain. My pain seemed somewhere else, more distant, but I don’t know where.
Oh, my belly. The thousand razorblades.
He continued drinking my blood, and there I was, walking along the tunnel, and the white light didn’t seem far away.
Then someone grabbed my head, pulling it back.
No!
Coffee for a drunken man, but it tasted pretty terrible.
It must have been coffee, it was thick and warm.
I drank it, but oh my. Awful.
It was the last thing I knew.
I lifted Jackson’s head off my lap and placed it gently on the carpeted floor. Then I went to Lyman, still and not breathing, and yanked the spear out of his gut. I heard muscle tearing and felt the skin ripping open with my tug; but if Jackson had saved him then his body would heal. If he died - then he died with a few extra injuries. I guess I really didn’t care.
In any case, I couldn’t let him just sit there in the chair, spear sticking out.
The girl had finally stopped screaming and now she just kind of moaned with her head sunk down to her chest, hugging Lyman from behind. Then she finally shuffled around to the front. His belly looked in a real bad way. Then she leant down, pushed his head back and laid her lips to his. By the way she kissed his mouth I could tell they’d been in love. But, right then I just couldn’t feel sorry for her. Or him.
She started to rock him back and forth. Lyman was a tangle of blood and legs below her.
Quite a bizarre scene.
“He better be worth it,” I told her. “Jackson was my only family and he died for your boyfriend.”
She didn’t answer me, just kept holding and rocking the lifeless Lyman. I sat back and watched.
Again the lack of emotion gripped me, leaving me dead and empty inside.
‘Vampires don’t cry.’ Watching her tear flow freely down her face, I have no idea why that came into my head.
I looked over the room.
And waited for my time to leave.
The Helsing Diaries (Vampires Don’t Cry: Book 2)
