《To Kill a Vampire》


 Chapter 1 - Soundwall

    I love it when the boss lets me put in a friend¡¯s indie song, I think it fits the vibe of the club perfectly. There always seems to be an air of genericness and broad appeal around the songs he suggests to me, something I find confusing considering just how exclusive his club is, and how arduous the process of finding and finally getting hired here was.


    As I blasted my sister¡¯s new tune ¡°No Bond Like Blood¡±, the energy of the whole floor seemed to lift up. My sister was no perfect songwriter, but naturally, as a DJ my job is to elevate and control the crowd and song to my whims. Call it a power fantasy or what have you, but I swear when I¡¯m in my booth I can almost feel the heartbeats of every living person on the floor, swaying their moods left and right. Well, I suppose it''s more like up and down, you don''t expect pure dancing talent out of a nightclub, even the exclusive ones.


    That might be why I noticed him so clearly, the only person in all of the club ¡°Piece of Mind¡± that didn''t seem like they wanted to be there. Well, he was clearly in there, and while I didn''t recognise him, either he had an in with Tobias or had a hell of a lot of patience in the block-long line. I almost felt bad for him, as the end of the night was close, but the crowd demanded my attention, and it was my job to deliver. He had a scar running down his cheek that seemed to glow flourescent under the shifting green and pink lights. I could see his face was green from here, and as soon as I spotted him he dipped towards


    That''s odd, someone was talking to me? In my focus, I must not have noticed and¡­ It was the guy from before? I whipped my head around in confusion, my eyes going between where I knew he was a few seconds ago, and where he clearly was now, leaning up to me over the stage, scar and all, holding a ticket for a request song. I checked the registry as my sister¡¯s song came to a close, only a few more but I had room for a suggestion. I shrugged and picked up the ticket. As I peered at it, it seemed like a legit request ticket, stamp, and everything. Not only had this guy managed to squeeze in at the last minute but he also shed a pretty penny for one request song? I¡¯m not a radio channel for people to hang out to, but curiously I had also not heard this song before. I changed the current track over to a safe bet, one of the popular songs Tobias suggests that I simply find unappealing, while I cut my headphones to try and find the request to see if it would fit with the theme. It wasn''t a bad one, a lot of bass but no wrong way to end the night. Even if it was obscure, Tobias can''t argue with the cold hard cash of a request ticket. I shrugged once more and qued it up, turning to look back at the man but he had already disappeared from view, not even a word or shred of evidence that he had been there before.


    Had I not been rooted to the stage I would have been inclined to investigate further. I felt bad taking his money if he wouldn''t even be there for his song but maybe he was just being a good samaritan and was passing it along for a friend? With the crowd that Tobias attracts, I¡¯ve learned not to question too much while I¡¯m on the clock. Something I¡¯m fairly sure I had heard directly from his mouth before. As the track switched, to my surprise and slight disappointment, I discovered that it had just as, if not more of an effect than my sister¡¯s song. The title was in a language I didn''t know, European at my guess, Dutch? And had some foreign guy rapping along, but the beat was incredible. Perhaps if even I hadn¡¯t heard of it before, there was a chance I could slip the melody to my sister without her knowing, it would be great for her to hear her twist on it.


    I decided to push away my confusion for the last few songs, making a physical note of the weird one the stranger suggested by pinning his ticket to my sound board before winding down the tracks. As the lights came up and the ushers started to push people out, I made my way to the hallway. Normally my phone is in my iron grip, but Tobias has a strict no phones on the job policy, fat lot of good it is as theres no service down here anyway. Grabbing it from the safe in my studio, aswell as my jacket, I started to head out of the staff area and back into the venue. I must have been even more airheaded than usual because the next thing I knew I was making direct contact with a silhouette in the hallway and the stranger and I were sprawled on the floor.


    I went immediately into apology mode, scrambling to get my articles and his separated so I could apologise for being so clumsy and making a fool of the club. As I looked up though I got a good look at him and paused in my tracks. I didnt mean to be rude but¡­ The scar, it was ghastly, running from his temple down to his collarbone. He wasnt particularly attractive aside from that, with greyhair running in his scalp even though he couldnt have been more than thirty, and a face that looked like someone hit him with an american baseball bat several times as a child. I then realised that I was getting such a good look at him because the lights in the hallway had turned on aswell, and because I was staring. The embarrassment must have been apparent on my face as he muttered a quiet something and grabbed his stuff from my hands, rushing down the hallway. It didnt even occur to me that he was not supposed to be in a staff area until I had already picked up my stuff off the floor and walked into the venue, only to bump into another man, this time Tobias Miller himself.


    He was staring right down at me in what could only be described as someone completely bored with the presence of humans. I¡¯ve been told hes quite attractive despite his dismissal of anyone hes talking to, though I can only take my sisters many words for it. I¡¯d never quite seent eh appeal and as such I saw him as barely an acquaintance, much less my boss.


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    ¡°That was quite the performance you had there Jane¡­¡±


    He never called me Vicky or even Victoria, despite my dislike of my full name, no matter how many times i had politely attempted to persuade him otherwise. I didnt take any malicious intent from him though, though some slight disrespect as he didnt even add a ¡°Ms¡± to it. he had done the same with my sister when they had met, aswell as the other staff when I had overheard their conversations. Never intentionally of course. It was a rare sight, or sound, to hear his voice clearly without music blasting at all times. Even in office meetings he had a speaker system in his room which he seemed to insist on running at all times.


    ¡°Well Maya will be glad it went down so smoothly, thanks again for letting me run it¡­¡±


    I trailed off, there was no point in continuing, his glassy eyes had already brushed over me to observe the hallway.


    ¡°I thought I heard a scuffle. Are you alright Jane?¡± His gaze returning back to mine


    ¡°Oh? Oh! Yea there was a guy back here, I completely didnt see him and them bam, right into eachother. He didnt hurt me though he just sort of dropped all his stuff and I of course went to pick it up and he had this scar over his face so I was completely taken aback and didnt notice he wasnt supposed to be there.¡±


    A pause. He always gave me a bit of space when I was overtalking, which I didnt know if i was supposed to appreciate or find condescending.


    ¡°Well you can report it to me right now. Which way did he go?¡±


    To avoid keeping his creepy ass any longer I simply pointed down the corridor, deep into the labyrinth of storage.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go alert security shall I?¡± I continued simply.


    He seemed to stand considering something for a second before resting a hand on my shoulder.


    ¡°Nevermind him, hes a friend of mine I think he was just looking for me. Listen, go wait in my office until I¡¯m done having a chat with him, I think its time we discussed a promotion of sorts, I think you¡¯re due.¡±


    He glided past me, letting me stew in the news he just gave me. A promotion he said? Nevermind his creepy ass friend, after slaving away for months now the master is finally throwing his hellhound a bone. Realising I was standing in the hallway like an idiot I quickly made my way to his office, only for my scatter brain to fixate on something glinting on the floor. The reflection it seemd to give constantly got in my eyes making it difficult to pick up but nonetheless my hands grasped something larget than I had expected. It was cold to the touch, a lump of some kind of metal, even under the warmth of my hand examining it it was still cold to the touch.


    I was still turning it over in my hand as I entered Tobias¡¯ office, half expecting him to be there but of course he was talking with his ¡°Friend¡±. How could something so dull had been so shiny to look at a few moments earlier? Were the studio lights really that bad, or even that bright? I paced around the room as I weighed it in my hand, trying to sherlock my way through the object¡¯s origins to pass the time. Perhaps it was part of a sword? No, I would have cut myself before I even touched the damn thing if it was sharp.


    Naturally he had the sound system behind his desk online, pumping out wordless bass into the room that made my veins shake. My mind wandered again to the promotion. I¡¯d have to tell Alice but I could already tell she was going to be insufferable about it, seeing as her song led to this. As I reached for my phone, I had already decided not to mention the weird but admittedly cool dutch song. I patted all of my pockets in order, even checking under Tobias¡¯ desk. Of course I had lost the damn phone, the first time some other metal object had captured my interest and I loose the ¡ê400 one that actually matters.


    Gods it was so difficult to focus on any thoughts when there was the constant drone of music in his room. I reached around his desk and flipped a switch, finally standing in Tobias¡¯ office without the flood of sound overwhelming me. This only gave me a moment to consider where I may have misplaced it, before I heard a blood curdling scream.


    The sound of pain struck a chord with the still air. I ws suddenly very aware that without the music, the room felt claustrophobic. Like a coffin lid closing on someone not quite dead yet. My hand reached instinctively towards the door handle, a desperate plea to get out of there. The line between the office and the storage room was one infinitely long hallway but the lights still stayed firm and my gaze was drawn down the binding tunnel.


    Then I saw it.


    Unmistakable, the face of death itself. It had the scarred man in its clutches, its mouth at his neck. At once, all those tales filled my head, from the most popular movies to the panicked whispers at night. Those stories were wrong. These things do not drink the blood of victims, they eat them, slowly, without respite or acknowledgment of struggle. I could hear every inch of the man¡¯s collar snapping with every chew, the cries of agony turning to small whimpers as blood ran around them. The smell of iron and alcohol clouded the air. It was miles away from me and yet I could feel the innocent human¡¯s last breaths on my skin, his blood inching towards my feet, a crimson arrow telling me to run. The scarred man saw me, I knew he did, I had to watch life leave his eyes as he gazed at me, then at the passageway that would lead me out, and finally¡­ He never saw anything again.


    I don¡¯t know if I should have felt relief or despair. I knew at that moment souls exist. The beast I shared this underground complex with did not have one, and it had just taken the scarred man¡¯s.


    I ran of course, I will never not run from death, not if I had the choice. The lights from the dance floor were pointing at the ceiling, all others were off, so I almost tripped as I burst into the room, hands flying blindly to catch me as I dashed for the exit, my heart tight in my chest and ready to throw up.

 Chapter 2 - Crashing

    The first thing I did when I got back into my apartment was throw up. I¡¯m surprised no one called the cops on the clearly insane woman rushing down streets clutching a rock, looking like she had just seen a ghost. Maybe Londoners consider that a normal sight. I could feel the adrenaline lulling for a moment then, just long enough for the bile to rise out of my throat. I¡¯m glad the walls were thick because I did not need Mrs Miller next door to bring me yet another bowl of chicken soup. After tonight I was seriously considering vegetarianism.


    I must have stayed wrenching over the toilet for a while because I could hear the birds chirping outside. It''s usually past midnight when I finish my shifts, even more so as I¡¯m usually the one who locks up after crazy nights¡­ Fuck, the door. I tore myself away from the mixture in my loo and scrambled to the doorway. Stupid stupid stupid, the door was swinging ajar from when I burst in. I paused before touching the handle, listening. What if it had followed me home? What if it was already in the building? In my flat? Holding my breath I waited, and listened. The guitarist across the street who never bothered to buy soundproofing. The couple making love upstairs. Taxis taking home drunk early morning party goers.


    I needed an escape route if it decided to scale the building, but an unlocked door would bring me no piece of mind. I closed my grip around the doorknob, inching it closed on its hinges. Windows next. Either I was locking myself in my own tomb or it isn''t here yet. I double checked up and down the street, lamps glowing in the night. Could it go invisible? See me right now? No, it can¡¯t just be everywhere at once, either it likes to taste fear on its victims or it has some degree of limitations. I stood still until I felt my heart rate lower to just below a hummingbirds. I was still panicking out of my mind but if I was being allowed a moment to calm down then I was being allowed a moment to think, and it''s inadvisable to let your prey think.


    I closed the blinds, turning off the lights too. My windows didn''t come with damn locks cause my landlord was too cheap to put them in. In a moment of what I assumed was brilliance I put some books I thought were heavy on the shutters as if that would keep it down. I even considered hanging garlic from the blinds. Clearly I was reaching the end of my rope on what was practical, or even reasonable. I had run, I had thrown up, I had locked everything including the tiny bathroom light. I was standing alone in the centre of a tiny one room apartment hyperventilating at an oncoming and impending doom that seemed to be taking its sweet time.


    I used the clock like a metronome to keep myself grounded, and sane. My father had said the faster you think the more time slows down. A critical decision could last a lifetime. Think now Vicky. And I would, as soon as I got back from another trip to the bathroom.


    What if I was hallucinating? Schizophrenia had an early onset, I remembered my uncle¡¯s degeneration when I was younger. I needed physical evidence, to know I wasn''t just losing my mind. I didn''t have a drug test on hand, but I knew I wasn''t the sort to take whatever my co-workers did in the alley out back on breaks or after work, and I knew the club¡¯s checks were good enough to stop them from getting in from the outside. Maybe the fact of the matter was that I was finally losing it. Sleepless nights working with blasting music taking its toll on my mind.


    I realised my eyes had rested down at my shoes. My right shoe, the toe, was flecked with red. It was converse so it was entirely black except for the very tip, and that was most certainly the crimson look of blood. At that I flung my shoes off, letting them thud against the wall. Did I just leave a trail of bloody footprints for anyone to follow me home?


    This didn''t make any sense. It couldn''t make any sense. But was I more scared of losing my mind? Or of that thing being real. Let''s say it was. It was feeding, like an animal. I knew it was enjoying it, there was no room for guilt in that thing. Why the scarred man though? I was sure more people came into that club who no one would miss if they disappeared.


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    No, I had to stay grounded in some sense of reality. That thing was no more than a beast that hunted people, masquerading as a human. It was just, really, really good at it. Something evil made that thing, but it had to work like any of us natural things, otherwise thinking about it was useless, it would just do whatever it wanted.


    How many had it killed? How many more would be next? What would happen if it turned its teeth on me? Club ¡°Piece of Mind¡± was a sickening name now, compared to the chuckle I had when my sister had told me about it. It was a farm for humans. How many more clubs were just that? How many people who go missing in the night, and assaults in alleyways, are really monsters? Specifically the blood sucking kind.


    I thought over what I had seen one more time, maybe it''s just a really well put together cannibal. I had watched Hannibal and the scenes of a man casually cooking up a human¡¯s liver had made my blood curdle. But no, I had heard bone crunching, I saw skin moving apart like a knife to a bloody steak. If I had gone back there right then and there with a lighter and a pointy stick I''m sure I¡¯d have found the ground licked clean and not a speck of the scarred man having existed.


    Just a speck. That''s all I needed. The blood on my shoes was one thing but my hand. I looked at what I was holding in my left hand. The stone was still there, dropped by the scarred man. The last piece of a dead man. I started turning it around in my hand. Somehow I had managed to turn my apartment into a locked fortress over the course of an hour and it had not once left my iron grip. It took a few seconds of concentration for me to uncurl my fingers from it, placing it on the coffee table.


    I sat on the sofa, staring at it as I slowly clenched and unclenched my cramped hand. It was hard to focus on it, being dull as a piece of gravel on the floor but at the same time almost blinding to look at directly. I started by making myself look at the corner of it, slowly letting  my eyes circle it like a spiral until I rested directly on it. It had something carved into it. No, actually, more like sticking out of it. It was like the rock had been carved itself from a larger one, with some strange symbols left protruding upwards. Looking down at my hand again I saw how it had dug into my flesh, leaving bright red marks that were now slowly fading.


    It looked like a capital M, with one line going from left to right, and three lines coming down off it at equal distances. It made me calmer to look at, I was functioning far better than I ought to. Looking away made the reality of the situation fall over me like a blanket. I could feel its cold breath falling over me, its teeth opening at my throat.


    I had broken my collarbone falling off my sister¡¯s bike when I was younger, I remember my dad picking me up to take me to the hospital and his hand had brushed against the wound. It felt like my bones were leaking lava, every moment caused taggers to piece my eyes and I couldn''t even open my mouth wide enough to get the pain out through how debilitating it was.


    I don''t know what I had gotten myself into. It felt as if a maw of darkness had opened up beneath me and I was on the precipice of a kind of evil I had never considered before. What else existed in this world? What other stories whispered to children to scare them before sleep were real, and hungry for blood and fear and bones and flesh.


    The room felt like it was closing in on me and spinning all at the same time. I was aware of every bug and spider in the room. They felt like invaders in my home, even the cracks in the windows and door seemed to leak shadows, the rings in the wood of my table created eyes and peered at me, watching my suffering.


    I tried to stand up, I¡¯m not usually the sort to sit still, but I had to sit down immediately. How long had I been up? My hand instinctively went to my pocket but of course my phone had been left at the club. The clock on my mantle said 10am. Was I conscious that whole time? 7 hours of throwing up and hyperventilating? What else was I supposed to do? When you know monsters exist, potentially everywhere, there''s only three ways you can go. Run away, wait to be killed, or kill them first.


    That¡¯s what had to be done. That thing had to die.


    Creaking outside made me freeze my second attempt at standing up. A shadow or two were visible under the door. Then a knock. Of course there was, of course It saw me. My address is on my employment forms, anyone with a degree of intelligence could come and find me here, if they knew what draws to open. It most certainly would.


    Maybe it didn''t know I was home, the lights were off and the door was succinctly locked. The door rattled again under the force of someone knocking. I had just wasted 30 seconds staring at it. I was about to be placed squarely in the ¡°be killed¡± camp, and any weapon worth a damn was nowhere near me. I held my breath in case it could hear that, could it hear heartbeats too?


    And that''s when the key I kept hidden under my post holder went into the door, the rush of wind entering my apartment like a cork taken off a bottle.