Tales from the 13th: A Night on the Town

A Night on the Town

             Chas Colvin sat up on the ledge of the Astor building, his stomach cramping so badly that it made PMS look like a field day. The figure hadn't fed for days. It was so bad that his body was so starved that it was eating away at itself. His once handsome face was now pulled back, giving it a terrible facelift look. The long blonde hair flowed in the wind as he waited for some prey to arrive. He didn't care at this juncture if they were sinful or not. The only thing that mattered to him was first quenching this insatiable thirst that all vampires felt when they went too long without blood.

He wrapped his arms around his stomach, trying to ease the pain. Trying to be good, the vampire fed only when he needed to, as well as in small amounts. But this only gave him some relief.  Sadly, he now required human blood, and that meant it had to be immediately. The hunger grew unbearable, so bad that he began shaking his head. He needed something, anything, to ease the anguish. For a moment, he thought that he heard a rat moving along the alleyway, but it was just a loose piece of paper. His hope that someone would come by and come quickly was fading. His once piercing blue eyes were now sent back into his head. If he had been seen walking the streets, people would have thought he was an escaped crazy patient or that he had some disease.

In a way, he did have a disease. It was one that he had to ingest fresh blood, or he would die. He would never have asked for this curse, nor did he want to infect anyone with it. Chas, when he was human, was on the way home from seeing the play Faust. He was walking, minding his own business, when suddenly he was struck with the force of a brick wall. Forced to the ground, the vampire exposed the victim's neck and plunged its fangs into the jugular vein. It was lunchtime for the denim-clad parasite, but things were far from over. The creature made him drink its blood, forcing him to be just like it. And ever since that day, the man had been a vampire.

His creator only stayed around long enough to tell him the rules. Some of the superstitions were indeed true. Vampires cannot enter a home without permission. Churches and other holy objects can only function effectively if the person holding them has absolute faith in them. If they didn’t believe it, they might as well be holding up a sippy cup. They were subject to sunlight, burning up and turning to ash if they did. Naturally, a stake through the heart would kill anyone who would have it pierce their heart.

When it comes to becoming a vampire, childbirth is an easy cake walk compared to it.  You must comprehend that a foreign entity is invading your body and it’s slowly killing you.  It feeds off your blood, draining life right out of you. As your body starts shutting down, you are wide awake for every grueling moment. The only peace you have is when the last organ fails, and you’re left hanging between life and death. There is a brief period, a nanosecond if you will, that you feel like you're part of everything and nothing. Then your newly transformed organs start working again.

You gasp your first vampire breath, and that’s when you’re introduced to the unbearable thirst. Your mouth feels like a desert while your stomach starts cramping up. Keep in mind, a vampire will not die from not having blood, but it does become VERY weakened in this condition. At that point, one of two things happens: you either go into hiding and sleep for an extended period, or you don’t make it back to your crypt and die. Sleep, which sounds like it would be a pleasant experience, especially compared to the thirst, but it’s not. Between the dream-like state, you’re either envisioning the bloodlust, or the victims you’ve claimed.

While one attempts to feed off the dregs of society, that’s not always the case. Many people take for granted the precious life they’ve been given. But there were times like this, where the vampire holds out for as long as they can, but eventually the thirst takes over and the apex predators show what they’re the best at. They’re pure killing machines. Their dreams were those of their victims, reliving in their dreams the monstrosities that they perpetrated while satisfying the dreaded thirst. For the sadist, this is a wonderful experience. But for the average Joe, it was an unrelenting nightmare. The horrified faces, the terrified screams. They were the worst nightmares one had ever imagined.

Not only do you have thirst, but your body also starts to break down slowly. Only fresh human blood would repair the damage that the thirst caused. Animal blood would keep you moving. It was more like a safety net to get back to your crypt, but living and sustaining oneself with it was preposterous. Their bodies are like machines, and you cannot put cooking oil into a sports car and expect it to perform the same as motor oil. For vampires, it tricks the body by feeding off what it can, but they need fresh human blood. There was always the hope that there would be a blood bank open, but it was harder to get blood out of than an actual fighting victim. 

Chas groaned in pain as his stomach continued to cramp. The time was ticking by, and fast, so that he wouldn’t be able to control who he fed from. He arched his head back; his skin was already so tight that his fangs were more predominant than usual. His eyes scanned the area. There had to be someone, anyone, that he could feast on. This was the part of the city known as Thug Row. It was where all the scum went when trying to stay out of sight. He wished they would come out of hiding; he needed one soon, as the primal rage was building up inside him. It was wanting to come out. 

  The vampire first tried using the medications that helped with cramping, but there's no medication you can take for that pain. It wouldn’t go away until they fed. Not even pain meditation helped, not to their hyperactive system. The one thing that surprised him was that his body was warm. It wasn't as cold as they portrayed in the movies. The question is, why would it have been that way?  Yes, the dead got cold, but they were undead. They still had beating hearts. Their blood circulated through their bodies just as it does in a living person. It had to move, to keep it fresh, to be fed off. 

 He needed just one person. Looking up at the heavens, he begged for there to be just one. It wasn't like he was asking for ten, which was the total dead since he’d become a vampire. A victim would last two days, at best. The Chief of Police of the city was calling his rampage the work of a serial killer, but how badly she was mistaken. She threatened on the news that if there were one more death, she would get the FBI involved. He was shaking in his leather boots for two reasons. The first he was above the law, and second, he was a fucking vampire. What could they do to him? He did learn, on the first night, that bullets didn’t affect you. They hurt like hell, but the wounds would close. Once properly fed.

He was becoming so desperate that a stray dog or even an infested rat would do. Anything at all, to take away the hunger pains. Luckily, he didn’t have to worry about getting infected with rabies. The vampires were immune to all diseases known to man. Another intense cramp came, and by this time, there was nothing he could do. It wasn’t like he could pick up some jackass and say, “howdy you're my meal tonight.” Then, as luck would have it, a little old lady came along down the street. His hope for everything that you could ever want was coming down the alley. With fluttering eyes, he tried as hard as he could to focus. He didn’t want to end her life, not here amongst the trash of the city. But as he held onto the building for dear life, the sweet granny was right for the picking. Just as he was about to make his move and send her to the afterlife, fate reared its favorable head. She was halfway through the alley when he heard her pleading for her life, telling her tormentors. 

Looking down at the spectacle, he saw that there were two members of Los Mojo's Crew, and they didn't seem to care about her financial status. She was telling them that all she had was a small Social Security check, and that would have to last her until the end of the month. They wanted her cash and anything else of value that they could get from her. She was being humiliated by being felt up for any concealed jewelry and cash. The sad part was that she didn’t have anything but the tragic remnants of her Social Security check. The vampire felt fortunate; here, he got to do his turns and perform a good deed for the day. Or whatever it was the scouts earned that day.

As he jumped down to the ground, landing behind some boxes, he stood up. The soles of his leather boots clicked heavily on the ground when he started walking towards the duo. The would-be hero came from behind the boxes and looked like a frightful sight. It was enough to make anyone piss their pants. He didn't want to come off too scary to them, but in this case, what the hell? Why go stealthy when you could go full gusto? He walked towards them and smiled as they each wore the logo of Los Mojos. It was tattooed on their arms for some reason or another; they thought they owned the little old ladies’ immortal life.

“Gentleman…” He said coldly. “Dinner time!”

 The two thugs stopped struggling with the older woman, all three of them looking at the horror that was approaching them. The older-looking thug, who only appeared older due to his mustache, was the first to speak up. They told him that this was their turf, and who did he think he was, coming up to them like he owned the place? The second thug laughed, saying that he bet that “crackhead” wasn’t even carrying. Chas extended his arms out to his side and smiled. It was so sinister that the gangbangers were taken aback. Seeing that there was nothing else to be said, he continued forward, backing them into the alleyway. The poor bastards had no exit. The older woman went along with them as she was more terrified of her protector than she was of the common street thugs. The man without a mustache pulled out a knife, while the other man was in a more serious mood. There, he pulled out a nine-millimeter, its serial number had been removed long ago, having a history of death behind it.

The two men present were Juan Ramirez and Alex Hillard. The kid with the mustache, who was trying to look older, was Juan. He asked Chas who the hell he thought he was, but the vampire didn’t respond. Seeing that there was no reply, Alex told him to “Put a cap in his ass!” Still walking towards them, and young Mr. Hillard shaking his friend, Ramirez hesitated when it came to firing. He desperately wanted the street cred. The sixteen-year-old wanted the black teardrop tattoo. But he was as nervous as he could be. As the vampire licked his lips, waiting for them to make the first move, they were surprised by the older woman.

Granny had lived in the city for far too long, and she knew the dangers that the streets at night brought. While the two men were distracted by who she considered some crack head, she reached into her purse and pulled out her 38 Special. Quickly, she shoved the gun into Juan's side, and before he knew what happened, she had shot him. Thinking that it had been Chas, the thug opened fire on him. He hit six rounds into the man before falling to his knees. Granny was about to turn and shoot the second man, but turned right into the blade of his switchblade knife.  Before she was able to get the gun around and shoot him, he grabbed it and pulled out the cold steel that was stuck in her.

Colvin, while getting hit, had fallen backwards. He was lying there as his body couldn’t heal itself. Why should it? He had gone four days without feeding, without so much as a drop of blood. As the hunger gnawed away at his insides, he jumped back up and ran at the other Alex. The older woman fell to the ground, a mere afterthought of the vampire. Sure, he would have liked to have saved her, but he was dying of thirst. Jumping into the air, he scared the living hell out of Hillard. Grabbing hold of the kid, headbutted him and tossed him backwards towards the dead end. There was one thing that Chas was not, and that was wasteful. Juan was down and dying, but the old lady, although injured, was still a ways from dying outright.

Picking up the fallen Ramirez, he had just enough time to ask, “What the hell are you?” before the vampire sank his fangs into the exposed jugular. His teeth pierced the skin like it was warm butter. Once punctured, he cupped his mouth over the wound and began to let the liquid spurt out into his mouth. Like a blood drinking fountain, Arnold feasted upon the thug. Hillard lay on the ground, astounded that the vampire was feeding off his cousin. As the blood began to flow slowly, the creature started sucking on the wound with all its might.

He arched back, gasping for air. Blood ran down his fangs and the sides of his mouth. Finally, he could feel his body healing itself, making itself whole again. But it had been so long since he fed, an actual good feeding, that he needed more. Much more. Listening to the heartbeat of the older woman, he knew that death was now imminent. There was a hint of remorse, but this was a matter of life and death. In her dying, she would bring him life. At least buy him some time before he must do this heinous act all over again.

Picking her up, cradling her in his arms, she asked him for help. He was helping her on the way to the other side. Even if he had a cell phone and had called for an ambulance, they wouldn’t have reached her in time. Her heart rate was now weak enough that she could go at any time. He gently lifted her, pressed his fangs in as softly as he could, and began to drink. Her blood, although fresh, had a flavor of age to it. As he drank from the elderly lady, Alex stood up; he was about to attempt to get past the vampire.  Before he could move, Arnold pointed at him, stopping him dead in his tracks.

After draining the woman of all the blood he could, he looked up and stared at the thug. He was backed up against the brick wall, terrified. That was a perfectly normal thing to do, at least, it was the humanist thing to do. If he had been in the gangbanger’s shoes, he would have probably shat his pants. Resting the old lady’s head down onto the ground, he was ready to play a game. Standing up, there was hardly any blood on him or his shirt. That was, until the viscous fluid from the sides of his mouth trickled down. His eyes were red, wanting to feast more. Chas had starved himself for far too long. He was no longer in control. He was running with pure instinct.

“What the hell are you, man?”
            “What the hell am I, indeed?” Chas asked as he gave a gentleman’s bow to the bully.

Alex still had the bloody knife in his hands. It was shaking violently. The old lady's blood was dripping from it. The human tried to talk his way out of being killed. He figured that since this thing was human-like, it had to have a brain, and with that, it could be reasoned with. Looking down at his cousin, Hillard was terrified that he would end up like him, or worse, the thing in front of him. As he tried squirming his way out of it, he begged Colvin to let him go. He had a family to take care of, including a wife and two boys. All of this was a lie, and the vampire knew it, as he could hear the fluctuation in the heartbeat.  

Since he was a member of Los Mojo's, he promised to bring more victims. That was as long as he could be let off the hook. This was a tempting offer, as it meant a smorgasbord of people he could feast on. He would have an unlimited supply of despicable humans for food. Who would know, let alone care, that some street scum died. He could arrange a time and place that would allow them to ensure he wasn’t starving himself, and seeing that this was too good of a deal to pass up.
            The vampire agreed to the human’s pleas. Telling him that he’d let him go. Alex’s muscles seemed to relax on that statement. Chas gave him another gentlemanly bow and closed his eyes. Seeing that the vampire needed him, and that he also needed the reputation of being a badass, he thought it over. He was willing to accept the terms of the arrangement. He came out of the corner and held the knife out, still weary of the creature. Colvin didn’t move. He was busy bowing and facing his adversary. The thug finally made it halfway past the vampire and could see the light at the end of the alley.

Suddenly, like a rattlesnake, Chas stuck! He grabbed onto the criminal, cocked his neck to the side and thrusted his fangs into the kid’s neck. Savagely, he ripped out a chunk of flesh and started feeding. Unlike the others, Alex was putting up a fight, trying his best to fend off the blood sucking fiend. But try as he may, it was all for nothing. The creature was too strong for him, and with two victims to his credit, he was back to his old hunting self again. He used the kid’s ignorance against him. Never trust an apex predator, especially when you’re the one on the food chain.   

“Why?” Hillard asked, as life slowly exited his body.

There was no reply from the vampire; he was too busy feeding. Taking in breaths, after every other gulp, he claimed the life of the third victim that night. Although the thirst was unquenchable, he felt normal again. Almost human. Tossing the kid to the side, he went over and ripped Juan’s head clean off him. This was done to destroy the evidence of a bite mark. After the head was severed, he went over to the little old lady and did the same. Alex was hanging on with an ultra-thin thread, but then he had his head severed from his body. Chas took the three heads and threw them down the alley to disturb the police and public.

Before leaving the dingy surroundings, Colvin went into the purse of the elderly lady. He was curious as to what her name was. Although his heart was changing, he felt bad for her. She had put on a gallant fight against her attackers, which she lost, and he wanted to know who she was. Opening her purse, he went into her wallet. The sad tale was that all she had was forty-four dollars and seventeen cents. He stood there for a moment, thinking about what a waste of time the thugs caused. They killed her over forty-four dollars. It was utterly ridiculous. But thankfully, he had a full belly. He’d be able to go another two days at this point.

Looking at her ID, he saw her name was Shirley Lauren. Shaking his head, he pushed his hands into his coat and left the alleyway, content.