November Short Story of the Month

IT’S A LIVING

Shane kills vampires for money. Michael, to his left, repeatedly trying to light his cigarette, kills vampires for sport. Kay, bless her, kills vampires for the good of mankind. Tito kills vampires for God, and with the numbers he’s been racking up these days, God will no doubt be impressed. Ned kills vampires for his necklace, one fang from each kill contributes to this, which he wears with pride. Me, I just kill vampires. In the technical sense, we all get paid for it, so we all kill them for money. But it’s all money to Shane, the money never really made much difference to me.  Each one of them has a reason, a strong motivation for doing what we do, and they’ll believe it with all their heart until the day they die.
Which, for all I know, could be tonight.
We meet at Tito’s around 5:00, a good hour before sunset. It’s usually best to get an early start. Martha, Tito’s wife, is out playing bingo with the girls and will be gone most of the night. Shame, I like Martha. Woman’s got the most amazing sense of denial I’ve ever seen. One wonders how many times Tito can claim he’s putting in nights at cheese factory and come home looking like a used tampon before she’ll notice that there is something out of the ordinary going on. He used to be a preacher, Tito. Then he started killing vampires for God, and now he prays in silence.
“Make yourselves at home,” he mutters, but we already have. Ned’s already on the couch, his feet making space for themselves on the coffee table, watching a montage of home videos on the TV. A good five minutes of poor bastards taking shots to the testicles just to get their five minutes of fame. The things people will do to be noticed.
Everybody’s got their eyes turned to the TV now, but nobody’s laughing.
“Coffee?”  Tito offers, trying hard to play the host. I don’t know why, after working with him five years, I’d think he’d of learned by now that he doesn’t have to pretend around us.
Michael smiles. “I’d kill for a cup.” He and Shane move into the kitchen to await their blackened beverage. Money and sport go hand in hand so I suppose it’s natural for Michael and Shane to do the same, we’re a close group but those two are pretty fucking inseparable. Neither are particularly likeable guys, and I’m sure that has something to do with it.
Not likeable by any means, but I trust them with my life. Every night.
Kay arches her back, stretching like a cat, and gives out a soft sigh. If I were a normal guy, I’d probably think about having sex with her. Right here, in Tito’s house. That’d give Martha something to see when she came back from bingo at midnight. But I don’t, I cast a glance to Kay and that’s all it is.
That is not to say that we’ve not had sex in the past, nor that we will not in the future. I’m quite sure that we will. But I know we won’t tonight.
I’m no stranger to pleasure. But I’d be lying If I said that sometimes pleasure was not a stranger to me.
Tito taps my arm. “Coffee, Al?”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t imagine I’ll have any problem staying awake. Not with this bastard we’ve got tonight.”
“Now we’re talking,” Kay purrs, rising to her feet. “Let’s take a look at him.”
I slap a manila folder down on Tito’s antique dining room table. Inside are things that normal people would be shot for seeing. Files on dead people, essentially, just names on gravestones. But we deal with the dead people who were, for whatever reason, unable to stay that way.
I pull the latest file out of the folder, a printout about eleven pages in length. The lengths usually vary, usually depending upon the age of the creature.
“It’s name is Adrien Creed,” I read from the notes I jotted down last night, “born in Leicester, England around the 1850’s.  Died at about age nineteen, came back about three days later.”
“Longer than most,” Ned notes.
I nod in agreement and read on. “Anyway, he moved from London to America in 1899, no doubt to escape the success of Dracula and the subsequent return of the belief in vampires. Has lived in Boston since then.”
“Cut the boring shit, Al,” Kay cuts in,“ I want to hear the juicy stuff. What kind of monster are we dealing with?”
“Like it matters,” Michael says, “they’re all the same. You’ve killed one vampire you’ve killed them all. What we have here is just another undead fuck horny for blood.”
I shrug. “There’s not a lot here on what it’s done.  Seems to keep a low profile. I mean, the guys up top have kept tabs on it, but it hasn’t caused much carnage in over a century. In England, though, it really had a party. Seemed to like to prey on the upper class.”
“Who fucking cares?” It’s Michael, again, boiling with anticipation. “I don’t need to know what it’s done, so long as I can still shove a stake up its ass.”
“Don’t ask, don’t tell,” Ned mutters softly. Kay giggles in response.
Michael eyes them over. “The fuck did he say?”
“I think they were calling us queer,” Shane explains to him.
“I don’t think he said anything about you, Shane,” I say, pausing to allow Shane’s face to flush red with embarrassment, “anyway, night’s just about here, and we’re on the clock. So let’s finish our coffee, sharpen our stakes, and put this fucker down.”
Smiles all around. They love this job, every one of them, for their own reasons.
Me, I just kill vampires.
This one that we’re after has been following around these two girls for a couple weeks. Candy and Carla Crowfoot. Cute girls, kind of Goth, but cute. They don’t deserve to die. Huh. I guess they don’t.
Odd realization. I kill vampires for a living. It never occurred to me that I might actually save lives. These poor, poor girls with no idea what they’re up against. Luckily, this son of a bitch doesn’t exactly know what he’s in for either. Vampire hunters are not entirely common. Everyone in my crew loves the job. The same cannot be said for most occupations.
I give them the lowdown, as much as they need, before we leave to take care of tonight’s job.
We’ll go. We’ll save lives, play hero. Kill for our separate reasons and enjoy our work together. Then the High Ups will come in, clean up our mess and tell the girls everything they’re not supposed to say, and it will start all over again.
An endless cycle. Every night. If we worked during the day, it would be far more efficient, much easier. Our ability to walk around in the sunlight is our greatest weapon. It’s also cheating. There’s no fun in sneaking up on them. I like a fair fight. On that, I can’t vouch for the others.
These girls live all alone on Bottin Ridge. Not a lot out there, not even a police force. Perfect spot for a vampire to attack. A nice secluded place where they can cherish the scream.
I know the feeling. Vampires tend to scream a lot themselves, and the facial expressions are amazing. It’s like they never knew they could scream before, never knew they could be capable of fear. Like they’re these monsters who never knew they could experience something so real. After all, vampires are fairy tale monsters, and death is a universal absolute. Everything dies, and when we thrust this realization upon them, they look so human. It’s incredible, but I suppose you’ll have to take my word on that. Even I don’t really know why I love it, why I can’t get enough of it. I tell myself it’s just a job, but the job is all I ever think about.
I’m thinking about this one hard. I’m thinking about the screams it will make, because they all sound different. The old truck doesn’t handle ridges like this the way it used to. Back when we were new at this, it would roar and trample like a rabid beast, it had a raging fire within it. I vowed, as I think we all did, never to let that fire die out in myself. Tonight, like last night before it, will be the happiest night of my life. The little trailer is within view now, out on the ridge. It’s the only sign of humanity for miles.
I’m starting to sweat.
Kay’s starting to purr.
Ned’s starting to fondle his necklace, patiently awaiting its latest entry.
Shane’s starting to dream.
Michael’s starting to smile.
Tito’s starting to pray.
The anticipation is clear in all of us, the thrill of the hunt so close. Each of us is longing for the same thing, each for a different reason. This bastard out there, somewhere in the night, is also full of anticipation. It’s hungry, this vampire. That’s all. Just an animal.
Just a goddamn hunt.
The lights are off in the trailer, but there is a car… no, two cars in the driveway. Maybe the Crowfoot girls like the dark, on which I think we all can relate. We park the truck about a half a mile away, then begin a slow, steady march. The key is to be quiet. We don’t want the prey to notice just yet, nor the bait. We take our positions, each one of us gripping our weapon tight, each one of us has a favorite. I prefer the crossbow. Call me old fashioned.
We stand like this for about an hour with no sign of anything. This is very uncommon, vampires (what with being animals) are rarely subtle. And they are never shy. Almost on cue, the door opens. No one stands inside. It just opens. We stand confused, greeted by this timeless horror cliché. A little bored, I decide it won’t hurt to just walk inside. The others follow close behind.
It’s only a few steps before I start to smell something. Two or three more, and I see. “Kay,” I say, “turn the light on.”
She scans the dark wall for the switch, then flips it.
“Jesus Christ,” Tito gasps.
“Language, please,” I mutter. It’s a bloodbath, and I mean that in the most literal way possible. It’s on the floor, on the ceiling, the walls. It’s on every piece of furniture I can see in this tiny home. Three dark shapes can be found in this sea of red. Two in the kitchen, one in the bed. The two girls, I’m pretty sure, were Carla and Candy Crowfoot. The body in the back is male, I can’t tell anything more than that.
“Looks like someone forgot the safety word,” Shane jokes.
No one laughs. For once, we underestimated our monster. It will never happen again. Of course the sight is disgusting, but I can’t look away. In fact, I’m ecstatic. For once, I have found a prey that went above and beyond my expectations. Something worthy. I feel like a child learning a new game. So excited. Another thought enters at random. “We leave the door open?” Everyone turns.
Kay is the first to notice something is wrong. “Where’s Ned?”
“Dead,” a cold, whispered answer from the darkness outside. No responds immediately, we all stand in place. Are we afraid? Is that possible?
A small, shimmering object is thrown from the darkness onto the floor. It bounces once before resting in the pool of blood. Tito kneels down to pick it up.
“What is it?” I ask. I need to know what game I’m playing.
His answer is simple. “It’s a tooth.”
Ned’s tooth. Does it know us? Was it waiting? What if Candy and Carla were actually the bait for us? I almost want to applaud. Instead, I make sure my crossbow’s loaded. Michael is the first to look out, now that I look at him, I see that he’s crying. In this moment, I want him to die. Before I can argue, the vampire stands before him.
A handsome, lean young spectre. Of course, he is no ghost, but in the moonlight his skin seems to glow. He places a gentle hand on Michael’s cheek. “Please,” Michael whimpers, “don’t kill me.”
The vampire smiles. “Okay.” This is all he says before tearing away Michael’s bottom jaw.
The oddness of the situation strikes me as Michael’s body falls to the floor. There is so much blood here, we’re standing in almost an inch of it. That means the vampire just killed them. It took nothing for itself. It got no gain from it at all. Then why?
Suppose I can ask it myself. Its eyes turn to Tito next, almost as if it is killing us systematically. Tito’s dead within moments, none of us, for whatever reason, are doing anything to stop the beast.
Maybe I don’t want to, maybe the others are scared. Either way, tonight Martha will come home to an empty house that will never again be filled.
Shane and the vampire lock eyes, Shane’s go wide with recognition as he screams his way to Hell.
It moves for Kay next.
“No!” I plead, without putting a single thought into it.
Its hand recoils. “Finally,” it mutters, “I was wondering when you were going to care.” He looks around at new bodies on the floor. “Like what you see? Because  you did this, all you had to do was say something.”
“What?”
It smiles. “I was hoping for a little more than that. You, uh, you like it right?”
Again, “what?”
“The bodies, moron. This is what you do, isn’t it?”
I can’t respond.
It lends out its hand. “I’m Adrien, by the way.”
I knew it had a name, but it sounds so different to hear it.
Adrien’s eyes scan the first three discovered bodies, no ounce of pride within them. “I killed the two girls,” he admits. “But not the one back there? God, you people keep such close tabs on the supernatural, you never bother with the monsters within your own ranks, do you? The Crowfoot sisters have an impressive record, in case you’re interested. All of their body count lies right down in that lake out there. Just one long drop separating us from the past. How many men do you think the Crowfoots have killed?”
“Killed?”
“Not a number.”
Adrien still holds Kay by the jaw, she’s passed out. But she’s alive. “Killed,” I repeat, a new understanding within me.
“A lot,” he answers for me. “They’ve killed a lot of people, including that young gentleman in the back there. Tonight I killed them. And I brought you here, because there’s something I need to know.”
“And what’s that?” I don’t understand anything. Not right now. I just want to hunt.
“Why,” Adrien says, simply. “I want to know why I do it. Yes, there’s the blood, but… I didn’t kill for blood tonight. You can see that plain as day.” He laughs, but I don’t get it. “I talk to priests, but they never give me any real answers. Nothing I can use, nothing I can see. Only vague promises. I need to know why you do it, too.”
“Me?” I ask, like a disobedient child trying to learn a lesson. Adrien nods. “Me… I just… I just kill…”
“Vampires,” he finishes for me.
“Yes.”
“No,” he laughs briefly. “I’m glad to see we’re on the same page. I find it comforting that you seem to know even less than me. I killed these people because they were killers, I killed them because they needed to die. Sometimes I go long periods without doing it, but I always need to. I don’t want to, by the way, at least not like you do. But I need to. I have to. To live, of course, and for some other purpose I’ll never understand as long as I live. And who knows how long that will be?” He glances down to Kay, then back up to me.
“One more question,” he says with a smile. Before I can answer, he lunges at Kay’s throat, tearing out a chunk and spitting it at my feet. She flails for a moment and we’re both splattered with blood. “You want some?” he asks.
He gestures to Kay, already cold and limp. And very wet. I’m not sure how to answer. Adrien lays her body down on a table, presenting her to me. A gift. It would be so rude not to accept. “Take her,” he says.
“Will I…” I begin to ask, but am silenced with a nod.
“Yeah, you’ll become a vampire. A monster, beast, animal, whatever you want to call us. Assuming, of course, that you aren’t one already.”
“I’m not a killer.”
“Of course you’re not. Now why would we think that? Your record? Do you even know how many vampires you’ve killed? Most of us, we kill to live. What about you? Live to kill? I just need to know one thing.” He leans in, very close to me, almost as if he’s going to kiss me, “Would killing me make you a killer?” he whispers.
I of course, cannot respond.
Adrien shrugs and pulls a lobster bib out of one of the cupboards, then proceeds to make me wear it. “Drink up,” he says to me, “first time gets kind of messy.” His shoes splash through the blood, but he stops, turning back to me.
“You ever do figure it out, why you need to kill, why we need to die, I’ll be waiting.”
I look up to acknowledge him, but he’s already gone. The infection’s in Kay’s blood, it will soon be in mine as well.
He’s gone because he’s done all he set out to do.
She’s gone because her throat was torn out.
Me?
I drink my lover because I am a killer.
Me, I kill because I have to.