I yanked the stake from the woman’s chest with a bored sigh. She wilted to the floor, still wearing that ridiculous surprised expression. Another long night of same-old, same-old.
Thumbs on autopilot, I shot off the usual text: 'One down. Bring the mop.’ As it sent, I eyed the body and thought, as usual, that it’d sure be nice if they poofed into dust when you killed them, like in that tv show.
Oh well.
My shoulders slumped as I trudged back toward the rental car. When I’d discovered that vampires were real and realized that my purpose was to end them, I’d envisioned a future full of exciting fights, witty quips, and danger. Maybe even some cool clothes.
The truth was considerably less exciting. In general, they were just regular people with slightly pointy teeth. Some of them were overweight CPAs, others were stay-at-home moms; a few were even kindergarten teachers and librarians. Tough to imagine them as deadly when you saw them standing in front of a room of screeching tots with smiles and cookies.
But I had a job to do — even when it was the last thing I wanted. They’d told me when I was recruited that it would be hard, that I would have days I wanted to quit. The old man who introduced me to the truth had explained everything. In great detail.
And I’d agreed. I’d sworn my life to the cause of saving humanity from the monsters. Though sometimes I wished I hadn’t.
That was seven years ago. I’d killed vampires all over the world, more than I could easily count anymore. They gave me the names as they were discovered, and I hunted them down, and I rammed a willow stake into their bloodsucking hearts.
I slid behind the wheel of the Toyota and headed for the hotel. I hadn’t been to my actual home in over five months. The organization kept my mortgage paid, but there were too many vampires. I was always on the move to the next hunt. And I wasn’t the only one.
I’d never met any of the others, but I knew they were out there. There were 99 of us. Always. When one of us was killed, another poor sap was recruited. I had no idea why 99, but that’s the number I was told.
I pulled up to the hotel, just a basic Holiday Inn type place. The organization wouldn’t spring for anything too pricey, but at least there was a pool and a hot tub. I could definitely use a soak tonight.
As I stepped out of the car, I noticed the red splotches staining my pants. Fuck it all. I’d have to sneak in the back door to avoid the front desk staff. Wouldn’t do to be spotted covered in blood, even if they didn’t know my real name.
Hell, I barely knew my real name anymore, it’d been so long since I used it. Sighing, I slid back into the car and pulled it around to the back of the hotel. I headed inside, carefully avoiding the security camera above the back door. Wasn’t hard, given the thing was focused almost entirely on the pathway. Amateurs really shouldn’t be in charge of security.
I tapped my “key” against the door lock three times before the light clicked green. Fucking cheap-ass tech. I pushed into the darkened room and started toeing off my combat boots. I kicked them into the corner and stepped into the main part of the room before I paused.
Something felt off — no sound from the air unit, no reflection in the blackout curtain glass. Nothing obvious. But I’d learned to trust that quiet inner voice when it sent up red flags.
I took two steps back into the entryway and snapped the light switch. Nothing happened. I snapped it twice more before giving up.
I didn’t believe in coincidences. There was no way my lights were suddenly all out. I pulled the KA-BAR smoothly from its sheath on my back in a practiced motion. Either I wasn’t alone, or someone had left me a present I wouldn’t want.
“What do you want?” I boldly queried the darkness, my eyes trying to pierce the veil of black shrouding the room’s contents.
A deep voice floated toward me through the dark. “I want to know why you killed my wife.”
I blinked. I had to admit I wasn’t expecting that answer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tossed back, forcing surety into my tone. Better the guy think he had the wrong room, the wrong girl. Though honestly that wasn’t terribly likely if he’d managed to track me this far.
The shape of a man peeled itself from the dark, that deep voice trailing it like a shadow, “Don’t lie to me. I know you killed her. I just want to know why.”
Oddly, he didn’t sound angry. He didn’t sound like he felt much of anything. His voice was quiet and calm, full of nothing. He didn’t sound like an angry widower, despite his words.
“Why do you think I killed your wife?” I asked, my curiosity rising. It wasn’t often I got a chance to talk with those who knew the vampires, and I’d always wondered if they knew about their loved ones or if they were somehow oblivious to the fact that their special people were blood-drinking murdering monsters.
His answer came quickly in that same dead voice. “Because you did. I saw you. You stuck a stick in her heart and left her to bleed out on our living room floor.”
Oh. I knew the vamp he meant now. I killed her two weeks ago in this very city. I knew it was a bad idea to linger in one place, but there’d been a whole nest here to be dealt with — nasty ones, too. That particular one had been a bit of a bitch even by comparison to the other vampires I’d slain.
I tilted my head. If he attacked, I knew what to do. If he didn’t... well, that was harder. “So what do you want?” I asked calmly, keeping the knife half-hidden behind my back.
“I told you. I just want to know why.”
I considered him silently for a long while, then sighed. “Because she was a bloodsucking fiend, dumbass,” I tossed at him as I pushed my way past him and into the room. I collapsed onto the far bed and put my hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” his voice didn’t sound empty anymore. Now he sounded confused and more than a little pissed. “She was a… what now?”
Oh goody. Things were finally going to get active.
The light from the crack beneath the hall door cast his shadow on the ceiling, letting me watch his movements without turning my head. “A vampire. You didn’t know?”
The booming laugh took me by surprise. What the fuck? Without thinking about it, I glanced over at him. Apparently he really thought that was some funny shit. The guy was cracking up, his meaty arm curled around his stomach while the other was propped against the wall, possibly the only thing keeping him from falling down laughing at that point.
His laugh was kinda nice — like warm caramel. Made me crave a sundae.
I waited for the laughter to stop. It took a while. The guy was seriously amused. Eventually, the guffaws trailed off into hiccups of humor. Between snorts and chuckles, he spat out, “She wasn’t a vampire, ya crazy bitch. She was a bitch, but not a vampire.”
That gave me pause. He clearly believed what he was saying. So I guess maybe that answered my question; the loved ones didn’t know. Clueless dipshits.
I sighed and resettled myself onto my back. “Yeah. She was.”
The sound of laughter finally stopped completely. Now he just sounded sad, “No she wasn’t. I’ve known her since we were kids. We were high school sweethearts.”
What?? That couldn’t be right. The organization had tests. Protocols. Bloodwork. I didn’t know the details, but I trusted the system. I rolled back up and sat cross-legged on the bed, eyeing him. “What do you mean? She had to be one.”
He just shook his head as he dropped onto the other bed, sounding more tired than I felt. “No. I don’t know what kind of deluded world you’re living in, lady, but my wife was just a regular person. A bitch, but just as human as you and me.”
It was weird. He didn’t seem to be questioning the existence of vampires, just that his wife had been one. Was it possible the organization had made a mistake? Had I killed a human? I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. Had I killed a woman with a family? With people who loved her?
I swallowed bile and tried to believe he was wrong. I so badly wanted him to be wrong. Maybe she’d been turned, and he hadn’t known it. That must be it. It had to be.
He continued before I could say a word. “I have a photo. Our wedding photo. We got married shortly after high school graduation. We had a daughter. She was…” Now he paused, a long silence bloated with his pain. “She was beautiful,” he finished, his voice choking slightly on the last word.
She’d had a baby. Vampires could never have children. That was well documented by the organization. That meant he was right. I’d killed a person. I was a murderer.
“Oh god,” I moaned, as I lurched off the bed toward the room’s tiny trash can. Seconds later, guilt came pouring up with the rest of my cheeseburger and fries.
His icy eyes watched me. They were strangely void of emotion; he still didn’t seem angry with me. I didn’t understand him at all. “Do you want to kill me?” I asked calmly, almost hoping he’d say yes. I might let him. I’d killed his wife, the woman he loved, the mother of his child.
It had been so long, I almost didn’t recognize the sensation of tears slipping down my cheeks.
They caught me off guard — sharp and hot and stupid. Like my face was leaking proof I wasn’t done being human. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried. Maybe after they’d told me about the vampires — after they’d proven it to me.
It took him a while to answer, then he said quietly, “No. I’m grateful. Really.”
I must’ve looked baffled by that answer, because the corner of his mouth quirked slightly, before he continued. “I think she murdered our baby girl.”
My jaw dropped, cracking loud enough to startle even me. What the fuck?
“I think it was Munchausen Syndrome,” he explained. “My baby girl started getting sick, and she just kept getting sicker, but no one could figure out what was wrong with her. Then one day,” his voice cracked again, his grief palpable in the air between us. “One day she didn’t wake up.” His broad shoulders shook as silent tears rolled down his cheeks. I winced at the pain he exuded with every breath; it clung to him in a cloud. I was surprised I hadn’t noticed it when I first entered the room.
I sat back on the edge of the bed, feeling hollowed out by more than the vomit I’d just ejected. I’d never hesitated when they gave me a name. What if this wasn’t the only human I’d killed?
We sat in silence for a long time, both of us intent on our own thoughts. It was strangely comfortable being near him. I usually found people… difficult. They made me uncomfortable, and I inevitably found them to be ignorant and annoyingly self-absorbed. But he was easy. Probably because he wanted nothing from me, and that’s proven to be incredibly rare.
Finally, he lifted his head and gazed at me solemnly. “Thank you for taking care of a problem I didn’t know how to handle.”
I just blinked. “You’re welcome,” I finally answered.
He rose and headed for the door, pausing only once he had it opened and was ready to leave. He turned back, nodded once. Quiet understanding shared. And then he was gone.
And I had a lot of thinking to do.
"Some of them were overweight CPAs, others were stay-at-home moms; a few were even kindergarten teachers and librarians. Tough to imagine them as deadly when you saw them standing in front of a room of screeching tots with smiles and cookies."
This description is phenomenal, great read 💞
Gee... i was on the edge of my seat waiting for fangs to gleam.. oops, the secret is out .. i thirst for horror 🧛♂️🦇