Larry the Vampire Killer

Larry

The Vampire Killer

Jesse O’Brien

8/16/2013

 

 

Words:

19,400

 

 

 

 

 

 

DEDICATION

This story is dedicated to Larry Ingram who was taken from this world much too soon. Going through his belongings I did run into a wooden cross that had been shaped as described in this story which gave me the idea for this story. Thanks my friend for over twenty years of friendship and brotherhood.

 

Lawrence Ingram

1949-2012

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue

The darkness was disturbed by the sound of a key sliding into a tumbler assembly and turning in the lock allowing access. The door pushed slowly open allowing in enough light to show a large, dark silhouette of a figure as it stood in the doorway. The figure stood silently for several seconds taking in any sounds or movement of the dark, silent room.

The figure stood, silently but wearily then seemed satisfied, entered the dark room in the back of an unassuming apartment. The blackness was broken by four small rectangular amber LED’s intruding the darkness like beacons in the night. The man was eerily illuminated in the amber glow of the LED’s. He opened a wooden hinged box. The box was custom made, hand polished oak with well-worn brass hinges that protested angrily when operated. The inside was lined with a tired red felt custom designed to cradle the object that that was placed within. The figure closed the lid and placed the small lock through the well-worn brass loop of the hasp that secured the lid from curious onlookers.

The large man sat heavily in a leather office chair and reached for a black computer mouse. The four LED’s changed from amber to green with a soft audible click followed by four computer screens changing the dark room to a grayish overcast from the black and white observation windows on each monitor.  Each monitor contained four separate windows with different views, from inside the apartment, the apartment halls and exits and down each accessible street.

He sat silently for a long time. His face glowed softly in the black and white Cathode Ray Tube’s glow. He inserted a thumb drive and waited. He minimized the window on one screen and opened another application on another. The document began to open then stopped as a password request window popped up to decrypt the file. He typed his password and the unintelligible file opened and became legible, identifiable text.

His fingers flew over the keyboard for fifteen minutes then he saved and re-secured the file, removed the thumb drive and placed it beside the wooden box that lay inside a cardboard box that contained, to the casual observer, other meaningless detritus. Box secured, the man re-expanded the monitoring window and stood to leave the room. He checked the door, took one last look into the room as he locked and secured the door behind him leaving an empty grey glow from the monitors. Fifteen minutes later, the monitors went dark. The LED’s changed from green back to amber as the room followed suit into the dull weak glow from the four LED’s.

 

 

Chapter 1

Death, Burial, And What The Hell?

Larry had been gone less than 12 hours. My best friend had left us. We had known each other since 1994, and now he was gone. Here I stood in his house, people all around me, my wife, his mother, sister, brother in law, but I stood feeling as alone as if I were standing in the middle of the Sahara desert.

We worked as a team to clean and organize his things. By the end of the week, all that was left was his computer room and the guest room that was packed from floor to ceiling and three deep with boxes that formed a path from the door to the back window. I was left with the task of organizing and eliminating the rest of his belongings. He had six computers running simultaneously and all interconnected. His brother in law tried to access his computers with zero success. He had run a complex system with each one and each computer ran both Windows and Linux operating systems with an even more redundant and complex passwords.

I busted all his Windows passwords before I packed his systems up. But was still working on the others, even though I was able to access some of his files, others were encrypted with the likes I had never seen. It was time to give up and pack up the systems and finish cleaning this room.

There were so many cables, wires, test leads, clamps, jumpers, as well as other accoutrements that I hadn’t noticed at first the eight coax cables that left the back of two computers and left the room through the ceiling with several other wires. I tracked them to the four outer corners of the house and inside the house into the hall on each end and the last two cables were centered in the front and rear outside walls. At the end of each connection was a small camera about the size of a triple A battery.

He hadn’t said anything about the need for surveillance in this neighborhood nor having any fears for himself or even displayed any signs of being paranoid. The four corner cameras were placed so he could see each corner of the outside and along the walls of the house. The front camera was a wide angle and showed from the house to the center of the street. The rear camera was similar and showed the entire backyard and back to the fence. Paranoia was still the only word that continued to pop up as I finished the disconnecting and boxing of the hardware and cabling of the computer room/office. I found so many thumb drives and removable memory chips that I could have opened a memory store.

This room was now empty and it was time to take on the boxed nightmare that was his storage room. Some of the boxes were empty, and some boxes only contained other empty boxes. The rest of the boxes were packed full. Computer cases, mother boards, transistors, diodes, wires, connectors, and many antique electronics that I had no clue as to its purpose or design. Nothing was new. Even the computers that he used were behind by a few updated generations.

I was in this room for a month until I had an estate sale which now left me with three boxes of personal effects that I had not had time to sort or inventory and had somehow missed in the initial run through.

After the sale, I placed the three awkward boxes in my truck and after locking everything up, I headed for home.

I placed the boxes in my office for a few weeks until I could finish and get caught up on my personal projects and side work. I was re-boxing photos and music that the kids wanted until I came upon the last box. Knowing this would bring my friends association with me to a close. I lingered a long time on the box just staring at it. “This is it.” I thought this is the last of my best friend. I stared at the box like it contained the mysteries of life or of our existence. I pulled back the flaps and started removing the old college memo notebooks. They were pretty old and there were dates on the subject line ranging from 1971 to, what, 1984? That was it, nothing more. In the bottom of the cardboard box was a severely worn oak box. The brass hinges were sloppy with age and wear and was secured by an equally old lock in a hasp that was almost worn through. The box top was ornately carved and lined with an elaborately decorated cross embossed within the carving. Not wanting to damage the lock or hasp, I gently picked the lock and delicately extricated it from the paper thin hasp.

I gently lifted the lid. Inside was a large wooden cross laid in a custom velvet tray. The velvet was still red at the top and outer areas away from the bottom of the cross. The cross was tapered on the long end and covered in a dark brown to black colored stain some of this stain had saturated the cloth in the immediate contact area of the cross. The cross itself was simplicity by design with symbols at the top that I had seen before but couldn’t remember from where.

I gently lifted the cross from its protective confines and examined it. The markings were inlaid in gold. The whole cross was intricately finished down to a sharp point resembling a long thin knife and polished down to a glossy sheen. It looked to be crafted from ironwood and contained a little weight and was very well balanced. I placed the cross on a clean white towel.

I had noticed that the inlaid velvet tray was removable and reached in and gently removed the lightweight upholstered cross coffin. Lying in the bottom of the box was 23 more thumb drives. I groaned as I lifted out each drive and stacked them into a pile. Each one was dated like the memo notebooks. I laid them out in order of the dates that were written on each one. The dates were from 1984 through 2012. My groan faded and curiosity took over and was threatening to overcome the cat. I booted my computer and inserted one of the drives. “Password Required.” I typed in “Mousey” “INCORRECT PASSWORD” popped up on the screen. I tried “Ollie,” with the same results. Frustrated, I got up to get a drink and walk around the house while I tried to pontificate the possibilities. I noticed a different window when I returned to the monitor, it displayed a smaller window with a quote, “PASSWORD REQUIRED, AS EASY AS . . .” Damnit, another direction, I typed in “pie” followed by a yellow pop up screen that said, “How did you get out of the birth canal?” a few seconds later that screen went away and returned to the log in window. Jackson Five and their song gave me a face palm moment. The computer was still vying for a password. I entered, “123” and slowly mashed the enter key. The box turned green with a big bold “PASSWORD ACCEPTED, TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH!”

The screen cleared and another program booted up similar to a word processor and was laid out like a daily diary. I clicked on one of the date titles and read the contents. I stopped, closed that file and opened another one. “What the hell my old friend? Who the hell were you?” I thought as I bounced from one file to another. I closed and ejected the drive and installed another one. I did this to chips at random. All of them were full of data. Some even had pictures. I stopped perusing the data files and stared at the stack of notebooks loosely stacked beside the box. The books were old, weathered, and some were thick with inserts and deformed with photos.

I was now so far beyond curious as I organized the books according to date and grabbed the first book and gently opened the cover to page one. The first two words that were written were, “Why me?” that’s pretty strange for a first entry in a diary or log. There was no date on this or the next entry.

“Entry two. I guess, I’m told that I’m supposed to keep a detailed log for the chosen one that follows me. I’m not even sure just exactly what my job is to entail, but, I’m supposed to write something within the confines of the book.

I had noticed that each entry that Larry wrote got longer and more detailed with each day. By day six he began training and physical conditioning. He had noted that his trainer advised against the use of tobacco and alcohol, but since he didn’t complain much. There was no reason to stop.

By day 30, each entry was a page long in the composition notebook. He was starting to understand the reasoning for not using tobacco. He noted his progress in cutting back on its usage. By day 40, he was down to six or seven cigarettes a day. He was learning how to spot a vampire. He was also introduced to the use of weapons, the sword, hammer, whip, razor, knives, and anything handy to slow them down enough to kill them or get away.

By day 60, he had accompanied the instructor on three separate vampire hunts. Two were successes and one got away. The one that got away threatened to get him, his family, and anyone close to him. That was his first assignment that was solo. The other two were with the instructor and went pretty well.

They gave him a small ceremony and gave him a polished oak box. There were no certificates as this was the utmost secret society. The box was beautifully hand finished to a high gloss with a bright red, very ornate cross inlaid with solid gold in the lid. The hinges and hasp were durable and highly polished brass that secured the lid to the box. Inside the box was quilted in fine velvet and was molded perfectly to hold an equally ornate Ironwood cross. The form fitted area of the box was snug but was able to be lifted out exposing a hidden compartment underneath that was quilted in red velvet as well.

The cross was the eye catcher, it was carved from a dark to black ironwood and was polished to a glassy shine and looked painted black. There were three inscriptions, one at the top of the cross in the front, and one on each arm of the cross. From the top to the left then to the right were written in Latin was, “God, Strength, Justice.” The bottom of the cross about halfway down was tapered to a thin knife. Its width was as wide as the cross until it tapered to a point like a large kitchen knife. The thickness quickly tapered down from two inches to three eighths of an inch to make a formidable weapon. The cross fit snuggly and perfectly within the tray of the box.

He took the box ending the ceremony and he went home where his wife inquired to his recent where-a-bouts. He only said that he had worked over and went to bed.

The next entry outlined his first official assignment to find the vampire that got away and kill him. He only mentioned his hunt for this vampire, and how he was being taunted by note of ongoing threats to his family and how he was saving him for last.

He did not have any of the notes in the folder. I stopped reading and mentally challenged if any of this was real. When I met him in college, he displayed an above average creativity and a very literary advanced mind with his werewolf story. Why did he use a werewolf and not a vampire? I was beginning to accumulate a long list of questions. The answers that I was making up were fantastic at best. I went to the kitchen to pour myself a drink all the while wondering. Is it real? Was his family in danger? What did his training entail?

I took a slow sip and turned the page. Larry was given another assignment on the northeast side of town. A vampire working in a butcher shop had just been fired and was breaking in to get blood and had also attacked several pets. He had attacked a human, but the person he attacked was a martial arts instructor. I could hear Larry chuckling as he wrote this part. He carried a combat bag with stakes, silver knives, large silver rings, a couple of silver short swords, and a suppressed .380 auto with quicksilver loads. He drove to the butcher shop in his old Chrysler 300 and waited. At midnight, he saw a suspicious figure look around and duck to the back entrance. He exited his car and silently made his way behind the man who was fussing with the lock on the door. He was so focused that he did not hear Larry sneak up behind him. With a silver knife in one hand and the short sword in the other, Larry said one phrase the he easily identified the man as a vampire. He said, “Excuse me blood eater.” At this the man turned around with fangs extended but Larry was already moving with the knife to his heart. His eyes glowed with a dull red as he slowly collapsed and began to melt. He described the vampire melting as if he had placed a stick of butter upright in a hot frying pan and watched it melt down into a puddle. The body in its entirety melted, however the clothing lay on the ground like someone had tossed wet clothes to the floor. He went home afterward to an upset wife. He couldn’t tell her he was hunting vampires. She would laugh at him and leave him for thoughts of infidelity. So he told her he had taken another job. He did not know if she believed him or not. Only time would tell on that subject. But it was something that he would have to pontificate on a long time and with all seriousness. Somewhere out there was a vampire that wanted to kill him and had promised to kill his family first then kill him only after he knew that he was the one that ended his family’s existence. This vampire had even threatened to turn his family into vampires so he could watch them kill and make him kill his own family.

I stopped reading in his journal. I was getting confused. What made him decide to hunt vampires in the first place? Was he chosen and drafted? Was he doing this as some kind of retribution for something that someone had done for him? I looked back to see if there were a book or some tome that I possibly overlooked telling me how he got into this line of work. I was perplexed, and lost as he had left no clue in his early writings of his journal on how he was tasked with this cause. I picked up the journal and continued to read.

It had seemed that after much contemplation that Larry decided for the safety of his family that he needed to hunt this particular vampire full time. If he was away, the vampire could not find his family. He was afraid of the vampire following him home and lying in wait for him to leave for work, or to hunt.

Larry left a note and only loosely stated that he had to be away for an indeterminate amount of time, but would send funds when he could. He was afraid of what this would entail as a final result, but he would rather have his family alive rather than dead or worse, turned into vampires. He left the note with no forwarding address and only promising to contact at a future date. He left and joined the travelling carnival. The entries varied for the next two years with vampire killings in different towns and cities until one night after the shows and machinery had settled to an idle state and a very gruesome silence. His work on them completed, he was packing up his tools when he heard a voice in the shadows call his name. It was a very familiar voice. A voice that he had longed to hear so he could go home again. He had abandoned his family for their safety until he could exterminate the owner of this voice. He was just outside his trailer when he heard the voice. Pausing only a brief second, he pretended not to hear and entered his temporary home on wheels and fumbled to get the oak box opened. In his haste, he neglected to lock the door behind him.

Larry grasped the cross from its protected carrier as the door opened and the voice again spoke. “You have a very odd way to protect your family young man. It is no matter, by the time I’m done with you, I will have everything I need to find them. Then they too will fall by my hand. I may kill your children and turn your wife to be my new bride. She is a looker and would make a fine succubus.” He continued to advance as he spoke. Larry could feel him advance into his personal space. He spun as if he were spring loaded. The black cross entered just below the rib cage in an upward angle destroying the heart.

The look of shock on the vampire’s face as Larry continued to push on the cross was one that Larry would see for the remainder of his days. “My family may or may not forgive me, but they will live on not knowing of your now idle threats!” The vampire’s eyes were wide as he slowly died and began to liquefy into the all too familiar goo that Larry had become accustom too.

He soon returned to his home where he was labeled and divorced under abandonment. He could never tell them the truth. No one would believe him anyway. If he told them of the guild, they would not only deny any knowledge of having known him, they would deny any existence of such a guild.

Carrying what belongings he had, he moved south to San Diego. He still drove his unassuming 1964 Chrysler 300. It was losing one cylinder, but it was still a power house. As he settled down, he found he was even busier than he was up north. Assignments came almost daily. Sometimes two or three at a time as some ran in a pack. These made exterminating more challenging.

He now carried a war bag everywhere in his car. He left the oak box locked at home only using it for special vampires.

He held regular jobs testing and repairing cash registers which allowed him ingress to areas where vampires were hiding or working the night shift. Vampire eradication was not a lucrative trade, but he was doing a good thing making the world safe from blood eaters.

I was now in book three and hooked on the reading like a good mystery novel. He would outline his technique for each extermination in vivid detail. Some were very similar while some were so bizarre as to think one was blood thirsty or insane. There were directions on improving a learned technique to prolong the kill, or make it instantaneous, painful, or painless. It all depended on the vampire, and how they carried out their existence.

Some vampires were quite mundane while others were violent and unpredictable. No two were exactly the same, which is probably how he managed to survive. I had recognized none of the names until I was half way through book four. I remembered this case. There was a national manhunt for this guy in the early 80’s. Tarrence Gwinn. He was a council member for the City of Santee. He was also under investigation for extortion and sexual indiscretions with numerous members of his female staff. He was nicknamed Terrible Terrance, the Nero of the 20th century. Tarrence was hard to locate during the day and a known philanderer at night. There were more than a few assumptions concerning Tarrence Gwinn and a few missing girls. But he himself went missing just before they could indict him for any of his atrocities.

If he was a vampire, how was he a public figure? He couldn’t even catch a reflection of the sun. I booted up my laptop and web searched him. I read articles concerning his disappearance. Then I clicked images and immediately noticed an obvious pattern to the observant eye. All of his photos are deep inside buildings. He’s heavily clothed in bright rooms with a hat and sunglasses. How he travelled during the day was a sudden mystery. This was one mystery that I may or may not be able to solve.

I returned to reading the log.

 

 

Chapter 2

Tarrence Gwinn

“May 15, 1982, twelve pm. I have a new assignment and possibly the most challenging to date. Tarrence Gwinn was a City Council member and public figure at large. A fishbowl existence will make this mark a difficult hit to say the least. I must first verify if he is a vampire as he is seen during the daylight hours. If this is true, I need to research his methods and patterns.

I drove by his residence at six pm and noted no security fence and no guards. He was supposed to be in chambers all day tomorrow.

May 16th, four am, returned to the residence of Tarrence Gwinn to see if I could catch him leaving home, various lights went on then that room would go dark followed by lights in another room.

At 4:45, an unassuming station wagon arrived and a person got out and aided Tarrence with an awkward bundle, almost looking like a carpet roll. But it was thickly rolled and heavy. Once loaded, the man gave Tarrence a halfhearted salute, turned, entered the wagon and slowly left the residence.

At 5:15 am, a limousine with dark tinted windows came and picked up Tarrence and left supposedly to the city building. He lived 10 minutes from the office on clear streets. This early in the morning, the streets were always clear. The limo stopped at the donut shop and the driver got out and bought a paper and two cups of coffee. He bought or received nothing else as far as I could see.

At 5:30 am, the limo arrived at the city building and Tarrence ran inside the building as the sun’s first rays broke the horizon. The driver followed carrying his coffee and the paper. A few minutes later, the driver looked around as he left the building. He had the schedule of every elected official’s schedules showing many meetings and public appearances’. It was interesting that while others met with people and press on site, Tarrence only met with the press and people at the building and nowhere else. All his meetings were indoors and in rooms with no windows or glare from the sunlight.

At 12:30 pm, the driver brought lunch, or at least it looked convincingly like lunch. The driver left by 12:45.

At eight pm, the driver returned and went inside. The sun was low in the horizon. Sunset was scheduled for 8:27 by the Farmer’s Almanac. Let’s see how long it takes him to come out. The news reports have always stated that he was a dedicated public servant. If they only knew that it wasn’t work keeping him inside all day.

8:30 rolled around and Tarrence and the driver exited the building and made their way to the limo. At 75,000 dollars a year, how can he afford a limo and driver service on a daily basis? Regardless, I had to find a weak link in the chain in order to strike. When the driver opened the door, I spotted two women in the limo waiting on him. They drove around town then finally to his house. The driver, Tarrence, and the girls got out and went inside the house at 10:55.

It was midnight when one of the women ran out of the house yelling and calling Tarrence a sick turd. The other girl stayed. Either he wasn’t that sick of a turd or she was just as sick as he was. Who knew who cared?

The next several days were the same. He was in a very predictable routine. Each day mirrored the one prior. The only real changed were the women and the amount of women that entered and exited the premises. Most of the time, the amount that went in was the same amount coming out. Other times one or more entered and there was a deficit of how many exited. That was when the driver arrived and took away a rolled carpet. When the driver only took one woman in, she was usually carried out. Tarrence was now confirmed as vampire and must be terminated. But how is the pressing answer now.

“Sunday was more of the same schedule for Tarrence. I am not marking times down due to the many inputs of time would be too numerous to be able to observe anything but my watch. I really don’t think this one sleeps during the week. The limo driver did taper off around four am. Something had to break.”

On the 21st at four am, since I was already here, I decided to try to find a way in which to perform my assigned task after they left.

At 5:15, Tarrance walked to the idling limo and they pulled out, made their usual stop at the coffee shop for the daily paper and coffee. Only this time the coffee was a large instead of a medium. I looked at the docket for the day noticing just how light it was going to be. Tarrence did not have any meetings today.

Just like clockwork within their routine, at 5:30, as usual, Tarrence and the driver got out at the city building and went inside. The driver didn’t come out after a few minutes. It took fifteen minutes for the driver to come out, look around, pull up his collar and all but run to the limo. I looked closer and saw Tarrence, not the driver, get into the driver side of the limo and pull away from the curb.

Tarrence drove back to his residence by 5:47 and went inside. I had my window of opportunity and the means. The hard part now was waiting the 15 minutes to make sure that he wasn’t going to just run in and back out knowing I was tailing him.

I exited the car and made for the front door of his redoubt. I rang the bell and waited but received no reply so I eased the thin blade in the door jam and popped the door open. He hadn’t bothered to dead bolt the door. No security, no cameras, and with no security guards this gave me time to complete my assignment. I checked every room down stairs then went up the stairway. There were five doors and I went for the last one first. It was the innermost room with no windows. I eased in and saw him spread out on the elaborate bed. I took the black cross and drove it deep into his heart. I had coated the cross with a dusting of silver to aid further in the complete destruction of the heart. I sawed the cross in and out stitching the heart to keep it from regenerating if somehow I had not managed to completely destroy the blood pumping unit.

I left the cross in his chest and as I took another knife out and several plastic storage bags. I removed several organs. The liver and lungs were first, and then I removed the destroyed heart. It was almost as if I were gutting an animal.

In a way I was, to completely kill a vampire entailed destroying the heart. To completely kill a super vampire as Tarrence apparently was, you destroyed the heart and then removed the vital organs before the body began to melt. If the vital organs remained in the body, the vampire could regenerate if there were anything left of the heart. There would be some melting, but the body would repair itself and regenerate. I really did not have to pull everything out if I were going to burn the body here. But I was going to have to drive over an hour to my fire source. The body could be easily destroyed with fire. I had a small incinerator at one of my storage lots that worked perfectly. It left no evidence at all.

The body was now beginning to melt down so I picked up the pace. I rolled the remaining body and quickly forming goo into the bedding and left the residence. Looking around, there was still not much going on at 6:15 am. But I still had to get away without being obvious or observed. People knew he had all manner of items coming and going at all hours. Maybe that was what this would look like.

I could feel the body breaking down faster now. I had to work even faster. There would be nothing but a puddle of bluish brown liquid in less than 20 minutes. I loaded the laundry in the trunk and left the area like an ice cream truck cruising for business. I found myself driving north on highway 805, then exchanging to highway eight east. I located my usual abandon dumping site and opened the trunk. On assignment, I lined the trunk with plastic so none of the dead matter would stain the storage area. Then by gathering the corners and lifting, I had a nice little water tight bag that I would just toss into the incinerator. It burned everything. Not that there is ever much left of a vampire but a greasy puddle of goo. But there will be no trace of the bedding or plastic. Even the goo will be burned into subatomic particles.

Once this task was completed, I found a phone and dialed a number, “Yes” the voice said strictly business.

“29, T.G. Black and out.” I said.

“Very good. Lay low and wait for further instructions. Also monitor local news in case of any developments.” There was a slight hesitation and emphasis on the word developments.

“Yes sir!” I said as the voice disconnected. The total call lasted less than 13 seconds.

I got back to my redoubt by 10 am and turned on the news. There was nothing about any missing council members. I cleaned and performed the necessary maintenance on my equipment.

At three pm, there was news announcement about indictments on Tarrence Gwinn and upcoming arrest. They announced that there was more news to come as the crews rushed to get on the scene.

By 3:15, there was a news bulletin and now they were live at the Gwinn estate reporting on the disappearance of Tarrence Gwinn in lieu of being indicted, they presumed that he had fled and was now being searched for state wide.”

The timing couldn’t have been better as they thought he fled. There would be an investigation, but nothing would be found, Larry had seen to that.

I read every entry for the next three weeks. No new assignments or pursuits from the investigators to his direction. There were quite a few newspaper clippings questioning Tarrence Gwinn’s where-a-bouts, but none had mentioned any supplications of foul play.

Larry continued to log about daily living. His divorce had finally gone through the courts and was sadly ended with no assignments coming his way. He fell into a deep depression that was accompanied by the bottom of some various bottles. Wanting to see family was impossible due to the danger element to them when he was not there to protect them.

One morning he wrote in his log:

“February 17th (1984), no calls from contacts. It is only a matter of time before the calls start again. I need to move on and get my shit back together. I have noticed that I have not entered any logs since October 12th, 1982. I don’t remember much in the interim. Today is day one of the new warrior. I cannot be alert, silent, and undetectable if I am staggering and smell of an ash tray. But I will attack one vice at a time.”

Larry logged his progress. He logged his successes and failures of pushing aside the alcohol so he could be clear to fight vampires. He had also been rapidly becoming familiar with new technology that was becoming available and affordable to the general public. He often questioned if the PC (Personal Computer) would also become a form of communication. He compared them to the cash registers that he was currently working on.

His writings and thoughts over the next few months became clearer and more focused as they did before he had to leave to protect his family.

Larry had even started dating. He took fancy to one and they began to get serious. He was head over heels in love with this woman. They began planning nuptials when one day his phone rang. His log detailed the call.

“August 25th (1985) two pm, finally received a call from higher power. First question from them was if I was back amongst the living once again. Upon my positive reply they observed me to see if I was a strong enough soldier to overcome my own obsession with alcohol. It was then, for the first time that I realized that I was being watched. Was it all the time, part time, or when I fell from grace? I had no way to tell. But I was given a new assignment. This one was located in Alpine. This vampire was remote, vicious, violent, and terrorizing the local town. His name was Willy. He was tall and lanky in appearance. But, he was fast and deadly. He has killed three people in the last six days and local authorities are baffled and can’t locate him. They know he is the party responsible for the crimes. But when they can get close enough to catch him, he just disappears. Be careful with this one was the last thing the voice said before he broke the connection.

He drove out to Alpine and studied the local terrain and structures. He then studied the layout of an aerial map of the property. Afterwards he took different routes in and out of town. Larry looked at Willy’s address and made a mark on the map. He drove past the address noting the simple gravel drive, the electric gate, and the very prominent “NO TRESPASSING” sign attached to the very center of the gate. Looking around, Larry saw no obvious cameras or carelessly placed wires. He took out a pair of binoculars and looked at everything he could see. If there were any cameras around they were well hidden and there were no wires to give any indicators otherwise. He looked across the street and saw nothing but sage brush and rocks. He got out and looked around, he saw nothing. Larry planned to be out later that night.

Larry returned to Willy’s. He had many sensors and tools to detect infrared. No sources of power drains or any power except to the gate.

His tools of his trade in hand, he walked in and paralleled the driveway, staying to the dark shadows soundlessly making his way up the lane to the run down ranch house.

There was but a single light burning inside. It was nearing midnight. Every one of his senses was in overdrive. He had not seen his query and had only an artist rendition and notes saying that he is a loner and lives alone. The guess was the person seen is the person seen in the attacks. He saw a shadow in the window staring out in his direction. Did he see? Was he now the prey rather than the hunter? Did he still have the upper hand? It wouldn’t take long to find out.

I wanted to stop reading but I just couldn’t put the tome down. I leaned back in my seat and rubbed my weary eyes. What time was it? How long had I been reading? I rolled my head back to rest on the back of the couch. Just for a few minutes, then I’ll finish this account and go to bed. I closed my eyes.

I found myself driving up to an entrance of a farm house in southern California. The accounts I had read played out in my head through Larry’s eyes. I saw a figure looking out the window then disappear. Suddenly, I was face to face with the perpetrator fighting for my life. I didn’t hear any doors or any sound that announced that he had exited the house. We grappled for the supremacy of life. I saw a flash of steel just before . . . I bolted upright, scared senseless. I shook if off looking at my surroundings. I was still comfortably sitting in my living room with the diary spread open on my lap. It would seem that even my subconscious was demanding satisfaction. I shook the cobwebs from my over worked mind and continued reading.

He stood and listened as the house now sat with a figure looking out the window. The shadow walked from view and left the room. Larry listened even harder as he hoped he could hear any movement from his adversary. After some time, Larry moved around to the back of the house.

He was within 20 feet of the rear entrance when a voice spoke to him, and the voice was close. “Why are you here trespassing on my land? Speak fast or your fluids will stain the ground you stand on.” He said.

Knowing the reputation of this man, he knew he was in grave peril. “I don’t know who you are, but I’m running and I was hoping for some water.” Larry said, hoping he took the bait.

“Who are you running from and why?” He said pushing the barrel of the weapon hard into his back.

“State and Sheriffs, robbed Viejas.” Larry said.

“Yer full of shit! Security’s tighter than a skeeter’s puckered ass!” He said pulling back the hammers.

“No shit went in the back where the bank truck goes. I walked in during the shift change. They thought I was a new guy until I pulled out my auto. Shot one and the other complied.”

“How much did ya get?” He said now with less malice and more curiosity.

“Two large gym bags full of green, I’m not sure how much, but I need water and gas. My car is out at the main gate. I need water more than gas. I don’t know if they found the car yet or not. If they have, I’m screwed right and proper.” Larry said.

Willy looked around, “Well, you need water and gas and I need money. Let’s git yer car. If yer tellin the truth, you’ll git yer water and gas. But if yer lyin’, you’ll be gittin’ two barrels of buck!” He jabbed the shotgun in Larry’s back nudging him forward and down toward the road where Larry had parked the car.

The walk seemed to take a lot longer to get back than it did to get to the ranch house. The whole march, Larry was trying to come up with a plan to reverse the role of who was in the defending position. It was made for him as they approached the gate. The old Chrysler was in plain view and lit up like it was swathed in the noon day’s sun. One lone sheriff was inspecting the car and had two large duffle bags and various sundries spread behind the car as he pulled them from the trunk. Willy grabbed his shoulder to stop him. In one smooth motion, Larry pulled the cross from it sheath and spun like a dervish knocking the shotgun lose from his grasp. His finger was on the trigger as Willy tried to regain control of the weapon. It went off sending double ought buckshot past Larry’s chest as he rushed in to stab and end the skirmish quickly and hopefully hide or rush as a victim to the sheriff.

But Willy was quick as he dodged the thrust. Larry ducked as he swung the shotgun as if it were a baseball bat.

“I’m gunna make you my bitch boy!” Willy said as calmly as if he were folding an envelope. Larry ducked another swing and came up thrusting the cross into the inner thigh of his right leg. He pulled and made a six inch gash severing the femoral artery. Then he rotated the razor sharp blade pulling it down the length of his inner thigh to his knee severing the artery in three other places. Blood sprayed from the open wound like a water fountain covering both Willy and Larry.

Willy dropped to the ground and tried to close the wound to aid the healing process. Larry kicked him on his back and thrust the blade into his heart and pivoted the blade cutting the heart up making regeneration without a lot of fresh blood impossible.

A voice behind him screamed. “Drop the weapon and put up your hands!” which he complied knowing the officer was pointing a weapon at him.

“Back up and lie on the ground!” which was obeyed immediately.

While he complied, he devised his plan for a scenario of self-defense. Now manacled and lying on his side, the cop radioed in for an ambulance and the closest cruiser for backup. “Don’t you move.” Then he knelt to check on the alleged victim. “Dispatch 92.” He said into his shoulder mike.

“92.” Came the canned reply.

“1142, 1144 to my location.” Meaning that the ambulance wasn’t required but the coroner was.

“Copy 92.” She said then, “92, be aware of who owns the property and the owner is wanted on several felony murder counts. Be alert, more units are in route.”

“10-4 dispatch. 92, 1108 1106, 1148.” He said.

“10-4 92.” Dispatch said.

“Alright, this guy is dead, and you both are covered in blood. So, let’s begin with the basics. What happened and what were you doing here?” the officer asked.

“I was lost and my car started having issues. I stopped to try to get help. This was the first place I came across. I saw the signs, but I hoped he would help a person in trouble by letting me use his phone for a tow truck. He met me here and pointed his shotgun at me and said I was trespassing. I plead my case and he pointed the weapon at me like he was going to shoot. I moved and knocked the barrel aside as he pulled the trigger. He swung the gun like a bat. I ducked and was able to get my knife out. And, well,” He said beginning to lose control. “All I wanted was to use a phone or locate one close by.”

The officer sat Larry up then went to the corpse which was already beginning the decomposing phase, but recognized his face.

“Holy shit, do you know who this is?” He asked. “We have been after him for murdering possibly as many as five people. There’s a huge bounty on his head. Self-defense huh? There’s a quarter million dollar bounty just for apprehending him, and it looks like you are going to get it. But why were you out this way? I mean, it’s a far cry from El Cajon?” He asked.

“I usually go to the lookout tower just off eight and watch the sunset from out here, but it got dark early and I got lost getting back to the highway and Bessie started to act up so I started looking for a phone. And well, you obviously know the rest.”

“But what’s in those two large duffle bags?” he asked.

“I’m a jack of all trades. I have tools, brushes, hammers, bars, paint, and my bible and cross. I do some request evangelizing.”

“Okay.” He looked at the body again and exclaimed. “Holy shit! He looks like he’s been dead for over two weeks. But I just heard you two fighting. This doesn’t even make sense. He may be contagious. Hell, you were fighting with him. You may have it and could be contagious.” The sheriff backed up a couple of steps. “Dammit, and I touched you. We both could be infected. I touched you, I could be infected too! We could be so screwed!” The sheriff was losing control.

After the coroner came out and took blood from everyone that was there and took them to the hospital until the results came back, they were returned to the scene and more questions were asked about what happened. But the time Willy’s corpse arrived at the morgue. It was little more than a few bones and one hell of a lot of soup.

Larry was inundated with so many questions that he knew most of them were just reworded versions of the same question. Several hours later they released him and returned him to his car and belongings. He slowly drove home after detectives heard his car run. They even offered to have someone follow him home to make sure he made it. His Chrysler was getting worse.

 

 

Chapter 3

Bungling Bain, The Pain In My Ass

I had read through 14 books so far and had many more questions for Larry that I wish I could ask. I really missed my friend. I was getting to the external drive and enough thumb drives that lead me to believe that he owned stock in the company. I had finally put down the book after Willy and began to lay out the thumb drives in order. I went to my computer and booted it watching the progress from P.O.S.T. to its normal boot sequence, then to the home screen. I looked up the Willy case and found only two articles on it. Both mentioned that he was killed by a man seeking assistance after having vehicle problems. The man’s name was Larry Magrin. One article mentioned a challenge in reference to the reward due to the decomposition of the body. But the coroner had also noted that he had never seen a body decompose that fast. But he had witnessed it firsthand. The bigger case was still unresolved and police presumed that Tarrence Gwinn was still on the run. They presumed either Mexico or the Riviera by now. I looked up some of the cases that he had mentioned of people in public places and those who were affluent in their community.

My attitude turned from one of skeptic to now believing his tome. I needed rest but like a novel that you can’t put down, I had to stop or drop from exhaustion. I left my office and went to bed.

I think I was out before my head hit the pillow. Soon I was in R.E.M. sleep and for some crazy reason. I was re-acting what I had read. I’d never done that before and the worst part was most people remember little to nothing of their dreams or nightmares. They only remembered enough to remind them that they had a dream or nightmare. I remembered every sordid detail in crystal clear high definition clarity as if I were there. I couldn’t understand why I was having these dreams. Nothing was making sense any more. The stories were turning out to be true and not just a figment of his creative imagination. I was confused as to why he had kept such detailed logs. He could message them just a little and have an awesome novelette or even a full length novel. I might see what I could do with it after I have read all the entries. I would probably call it something like “Larry, The Vampire Exterminator, or Killer, or maybe even Slayer, or maybe something just as cool.

I had just about finished all I could do and now the rest was in the hands of the lawyer and the court system. I was down to sending his personal items to the kids. Then my job would be done. I didn’t want to do this job, I wanted my friend back. It’s hard to say goodbye to a friend.

I had to stop reading for a while due to having to make a living, deadlines on my own writing, and well, life in general. Every time I sat at my desk, the remaining paper logs and portable drives pulled at me to peruse them, to study their contents, to see where he went next. I was up to 1988. He had remarried and he and his wife had a son. The calls for vampire eradication had dropped off dramatically and he had focused on computers, programming, and his son. The calls he did get were minor nuisances and inept vampires. One such call was in reference to a vampire named Bain.

I was only glancing at the date and times now and refused to relay them into writ unless I felt them important.

He received a call concerning a vampire named Bain Brickle who was terrorizing a community. Reports posts that he was probing for a gang and he had killed several rival gang members. He had since started braking into innocent’s homes and terrorizing them and drinking from the children. Watch the news for the “Bungling Burglar.” He has had his ass kicked at every home he has broken into unless he entered by the children’s room and escaped as the parents enter.

Beware, he is unpredictable, unstable, and this could be easy or this could be your last. Use extreme caution.

Larry made ready to reconnoiter the area the next night. He had a sketch of Bain but nothing more than a just as rough description of the young lad. He was five foot two, 98 pounds, blonde hair and blue eyes.

He loaded his usual tools, opting to leave the cross at home. He was certain, but he did not feel that this job was worthy of such an honorable implement. But he thought better of his former decision at the last minute and grabbed the box. He drove the old Chrysler over to a community called Logan Heights and drove around the area locating the local park. He saw a small cadre of kids sitting by the comfort station. One of them fit Bain’s description.

This boy jumped up and charged Larry’s car. He smacked against the glass like a bird and sucked at the glass like one of those sucker fish in a fish tank.

Larry pushed the button for drive and gunned the motor. The now six cylinder motor didn’t quite roar any longer, but it respectfully accelerated leaving sliding lip marks on his window as he pulled away. He also noted one other thing. Bain was fast, very, very fast. This called for a much more stealthy approach. His was the only car and he was looking at his subject a little too closely. He might have to tranquilize him first. Crude and unsporting, but his foe was much faster than he had anticipated.

The next day, Larry rented a van and drove back to the park. He parked close to where he encountered Bain the day before. They were at the same place as yesterday. He exited the van and looked at the boy, the tranquilizer gun at the ready. He had practiced the move that could save him or make him Bain’s next entree. Personally, he would rather be saved.

As predicted, the boy charged directly for him. Inside of 10 feet, Larry rotated his wrist exposing the barrel of the gun and squeezed the trigger. A soft air powered puff emitted and Bain jerked slightly and continued forward. Larry side stepped as Bain impacted the side of the van. Before he collapsed, the side door was opened and he pushed the boy inside. His friends were still laughing when Larry dove inside the side door closing it as he moved to the driver’s seat.

Larry stopped the van 13 blocks away at an abandon Faque Burger and secured Bain hand and foot then hog tied him to assure that he wasn’t going anywhere. He then drove to his car and placed him in the trunk, drove the van the half block to return the rental and walked back to his car.

It was going to be a long trip if Bain awoke part way out to the incinerator. He had to ask him a couple of questions before he terminated him. Upon opening the trunk, Bain was just beginning to stir. The tranquilizer should have knocked him out for at least five hours, but it had been only an hour and 10 minutes. Bain’s eyes were just flittering open when Larry injected what would be a lethal dose to a cape buffalo. Bain began to sing, “Because I got high” by Afroman. Smiling as he slowed to a stop. He closed the trunk and headed out of town to his secret hide-a-way.

As he pulled into the entryway, he heard a heavy slurred, “Because I was high,” coming from the trunk. Why was he fixated on that particular tune? The car stopped at the back of the property and Larry got out and opened the trunk to a wide eyed Bain whose eyes looked like a cat that had been rolling in a pile of catnip. He also was smiling as if he was on the best high of his life.

“Hey killer, gimme more of that shit man and maybe I let you live!” Bain slurred.

“Why would you kill the supplier, man?” Larry asked.

“Cause I know you ain’t no supplier, vik!” VK was an acronym for Vampire Killer.

“Answer my questions and I’ll give you all you want, deal?”

“Show me first, then I’ll talk.” He said.

Larry showed Bain the large syringe full of clear fluid. Satisfied, he said, “What do you want to know vik?”

“How many have you turned?”

“I can’t turn anyone, but I drink from everyone.”

“Why did you start killing innocents?”

“Because I was dry, because I was dry. I was gonna feed on some kids but then I got high, I was gonna feed on a ranger too, but now I am high.” He continued to sing as Larry pressed the needle into the vein and depressed the plunger. A large smile spread over his face as he faded off to dream land.

There was no immediate decomposition because of the way he died. Destroy the heart, take the head, silver bullet, or quicksilver would initiate a rapid melt down. He just faded away and went with a smile on his face. “Something was wrong here.” Larry thought to himself. Not only did he know who he was he did not put up a fight.

He was troubled all the way home, the vague description, the rough sketch, nothing really accurate. He wondered if he should go home. This was getting more and more suspicious at every mile back to town. He constantly checked his mirrors to keep track of who was behind him. It was hard with all the traffic. But he still kept one diligent eye to the rear.

He drove past his exit and drove to the Grossmont BLVD exit and went to the Grossmont Mall parking structure where he drove to the top level in the farthest back corner and waited. He lowered in the seat until he could just barely see over the dash.

It took a full 10 minutes before a familiar front end to ease up the ramp. The van with the dark tinted windows and even a tinted windshield rolled up and made a lap past the Chrysler then drove the parameter before driving up and blocking the Chrysler from leaving.

No one exited the van as it sat in front of Larry’s car. It just sat there like from a scene from the movie “Maximum Overdrive,” or the movie “The Car.” Larry was cramped and uncomfortable. There was still no obvious activity from the other vehicle.

It was just starting to glow purple with the first rays of dawn approaching when Larry noticed the machine move a little, possibly from the occupants. It got a little lighter and a window rolled down an inch or so and a few fingers stuck out then went back in like someone testing the temperature. The door popped open and a skinny figure exited the ride and stood glaring at the car. Then the figure stepped slowly toward the car cautiously, anticipating some kind of assault from the car. 15 feet away, he stopped. He didn’t move an inch like statue silhouetted on the lightening sky.

Larry now knew without a doubt that this was Bain.

“I know you’re in there. I can hear your heartbeat and I can smell your blood.” He said in a low tone that could easily have been a shout. “C’mon out esse, and let’s get it over with. I’m hungry and you can be my last feed tonight.”

Scenarios ran through his mind and none of them played to his liking, nor to his favor of survival. He reached over and pulled the box from the floor and extricated the black cross from its confinement.

He sat up in the driver’s seat, but did not open the door.

“Shit Holmes, you need a haircut. I will give you one before I even draw any blood.” He said smiling as he removed a large knife from a hip pocket, opened it and continued smiling. That smile made Larry’s blood run cold. “This will either be an easy mark, or if you’re not careful, it could very well be your last.” Rang loudly in his head.

He unlocked and opened the door and Bain’s smile became a smile that if Larry lived, he prayed to never see it ever again. He stepped clear of the car and Bain was on him like light in a dark room when you turn on the switch. He tried to duck but felt him tugging and pulling at his hair then standing five feet away, hair still falling to the ground. He began laughing. “That’s a good look for you Holmes. I like it and you still have enough to keep your ears warm. Larry had pulled two things from the car. One item was the cross, and the other was a gun. A very special gun, it shot a wooden bolt with a quick silver tip. He brought up the cross and Bain laughed. “I will hang that over my bed after I pull if from your cooling fingers.” Then Larry moved his wrist and shot the bolt into Bain’s chest. Bain flinched in surprise and reached up feeling blood run down his chest as the pain from the quicksilver coursed into his body. He looked at Larry, “Damn Holmes, I never saw you move. Shit this hurts man. What did you shoot me with? Do you even speak?” Larry never spoke, he only stared. Now it was his turn to stand stoic as Bain began to writhe in pain from the quicksilver as it continued its path of devastation.

This was a new weapon for Larry and he was working on the application and delivery system. The hard wood with a recess containing the five millimeters of quicksilver required to kill a vampire was more than enough to kill even the highest level of vampire, but he was still working on a delivery system this time the delivery vehicle was a CO2 charged .50 caliber launch tube. It looked like a crude zip gun with a CO2 cartridge attached.

Bain’s face twisted into a caricature of pain as the poison raced through his body, burning everything as it went. When it reached his heart, he convulsed violently and collapsed in a heap, body already pooling with in the skin.

Retrieving the cleaning gear, Bain was quickly rolled, sealed, and placed into the trunk.

Larry heard another car door open as he walked to the driver’s door. “Hey!” the boy yelled. “Where do you think you’re going with B?” Larry walked up to the boy causing him to step back.

“Why?” Larry asked.

“He’s my homie. You just killed him. What did you do to him? He look like he melted.”

Checking the car to find no others and no one else on this level yet, and he chose this spot for the absence of security cameras. “You want to go with your homie? Are you a vampire?”

“A what? No whitie, ain’t no such thing.” He said.

“Then walk away and forget him unless you want to join him. He was a vampire. Something you said doesn’t exist.”

The boy stood, not moving trying to decide his next move. Larry saw him make his decision. Then he saw something in the boy’s eyes. An angry wildness, then the eyes turned black. Awe hell, he was a vampire too! “How many of you are there?” Your answer is crucial.” Larry stated just before the boy attacked him. He wasn’t very good or even stable in his assault. With a flip and a slight lean, the boy over shot his query and landed on his head. He writhed and tried to sit up while he was pinned down and a fairly large black cross pressed against his rib cage hard enough to draw blood. “How many of you are there?” Larry hissed.

“I’m the last one. He wanted to show us how invincible he was.” The cross pressed in another inch and the boy cried out, begging for his life.

“Would you have spared mine if the roles were reversed?” Larry hissed.

“No, I guess . . .” was all he got out before the cross was plunged into his chest, through his heart and lung. A quick side to side motion and the boy fell silent. Larry bagged him and placed his jelling corpse in the trunk with Bain’s. He took one last look around not wanting to be surprised by another vampire. It was getting too light out and those odds had diminished. He also looked around for anyone who might have witnessed the event. Now he had to drive back to the incinerator to dispose of the now two bags of gel. The Chrysler was getting a lot of miles this month. On his was back he stopped and got a cup of coffee. The aroma and taste was refreshing. He sat back and contemplated his life. There were highs and there were some devastating lows. This latest task gave him purpose. However, it came with a price. He now had to protect his wife and son. Being more determined than ever, the decision was made to never abandon family again.

Larry had been studying computers and software as well as surveillance systems and had the gear to install a four camera system in their apartment with a remote recorder. An Atari computer has also been purchased and he was learning software applications and coding.

He had everything set in a corner of the third room in a three bedroom apartment. Two cameras were placed outside the windows capturing both directions down the drive, one aimed down the hall to the front door, and one was outside the front door showing anyone that was at the door.

As an added geek’s wet dream, Larry designed and built a silent alarm system with magnetic sensors on the doors and windows. Of course, he did go a little overboard by placing one on every door in the small apartment. He stopped and set up the light panel information center with a light for each entry and a bigger light giving warning of an intrusion. He also added one more feature, more as an experiment actually. Vampires had heightened sensitivity in sight and sound. He did install a speaker capable of one 160 decibels at a mind numbing 54 kilohertz or KHz. He also purchased a slide dog whistle to better be able to tune into their most annoying pitch, hopefully to his advantage.

He hoped that it was just overboard and paranoia and that it would never be used.

 

 

Chapter 4

The Eviction Notice

            Things dropped off dramatically after Bain and there were only a few calls instigating a complaint of a person here or there to verify if a person was or was not a vampire.

It was good being as normal a family as one could get that is. Work was good and steady. Larry had been working for a gyro testing facility and was contemplating going to college, but the money just was not there yet.

He had also replaced his home alarm panel with a smaller unit that contained the much smaller LED lights making it also more energy efficient.

Larry was studying about computers and had joined a couple of computer users groups building a computer here and there and having to solder in memory.

Computers were coming along like a second language and he was looking starting classes soon. His son was growing like the proverbial weed and he was enjoying life’s normalcy. His contacts had been silent for almost six years. He did have one contact, but it was a false accusation and the report ended as it had begun. The diaries were amassing in an organized pile in the corner shelf. No one had read them yet. But his son was growing and reading anything he could get his hands on.

Larry purchased enough boxes and rented a storage unit. It didn’t take long before it was full with the full boxes of diaries, old computer components, and his vast collection of radio, TV, and other kinds of vacuum tubes. He kept this storage unit separate from his secret storage unit.

So, was this it? Was his job done? It was now 15 years since his last big call. His daily journals continued to amass as he diligently wrote daily activities as if this was a normal diary. And to Larry, it had become a normal part of his life. He would look back and reminisce on things that he enjoyed in his past.

He was now taking classes at Cuyamaca College in Rancho San Diego, with math, English, and Chemistry being his first few classes.

Math and English were his favorite classes. There were some interesting people in those classes. Some were there to learn, some were only there so mommy and daddy would pay for their insurance or their new car payments, or both.

In English class, or more accurately, creative writing was where he excelled, the instructor would put them into groups to write. This is where he met another student named Jesse. He had a warped personality and had a passion for computers as well.

Computers, software, and computer swap meets became a norm for both. He had asked the basics about Larry. Job, hobbies, etc. etc. but he didn’t dig into his past.

They had known each other for about four months when things had gone horribly wrong for Larry. It seemed that Bain had a very high level apprentice. This slick devil had talked his way into Larry’s apartment a few days before and managed to turn Larry’s wife. Vampires can hypnotize an unsuspecting person and they will have no memory of the incident. He had left a note for Larry when he returned home from work.

“So you’re the great vampire killer? I think you just ran into a stroke of luck with my master, Bain. I’m nothing like him and much stronger. I have turned your lovely wife but I have not touched your son. She wrote you a letter of displeasure and demands your removal of your property and self from the apartment by the end of the month. If this doesn’t happen, I will not turn your son, I’ll just kill him.

Leave us alone and we will leave your family alone. Can that be any simpler? I don’t think so. I am the omega, the end, the finality of life. I am Lucious Baratu, ruler of the night.”

Larry was furious, he calmed himself and entered the apartment. He looked around only to find no one home. There was an envelope on the table with his name on it in type. He sat and read the neatly typed letter.

“Larry,

After years of marriage, I have been by your side through thick and thin. The last few years have been more thin than thick and feel that we have grown apart over the years. I don’t think we have any thing in common any longer. I don’t even know who you are. You have a secret room and who knows what else you are hiding from me.

As of this date, I am officially giving you 30 days’ notice of eviction. You may stay until the end of the 30 days but no longer. After Friday, any remaining property will be tossed and you will be forcibly removed. Sorry, but it has to be this way.

Beth.”

The man sat staring at the words on the page and not really seeing them. They blurred then refocused. He reread the letter. Same context, nothing changed. Only this time he noticed the signature or signatures. Beth followed by I. B. Shyster, attorney at law.

Larry went into his room and looked at the surveillance. He saw where the vampire, wait, rephrase that, super vampire approached the apartment. It was still day light when he arrived. This was different, he had heard of super vampires, but had never actually met one. The others that were around during the day avoided the light and was clothed from head to foot. He was in a shirt and jeans. He wasn’t even wearing a hat. This was bad, real bad. He archived the video and wiped the files. It was midnight, Larry reached for the phone.

“Jesse?” Larry asked.

“Yeah, Larry, are you okay?”

“No I’m not. Could you meet me somewhere?” The letter was now sinking in.

“Name it and I’ll be there.” Jesse said.

“Denny’s in El Cajon off of eight?”

“Give me 45 minutes okay?” He replied.

“See you then.” Larry hung up.

Larry drove over and was on his third cup of coffee when Jesse walked in looking for him. It had been 35 minutes. He walked over and sat down.

Larry handed over the envelope. “Beth Evicted me.” Was all he could say. Jesse took the envelope and read the letter.

“Holy Crap bro, Is this for real? I mean, heck, I don’t know, I don’t know what I mean!” He sat there and read the letter again. “Do you need a place to stay? We’ll make room for you.” Jesse said.

“Let me see what I can find. I have 30 days, if I can’t find anything by then we’ll talk okay?” Jesse nodded and then they sat quietly for sometime, then they talked, had dessert and coffee until about four in the morning.

Larry did find another place, packed even more into his storage module and continued on. But so did the trials. The old 300 was now down to a modified five and a half cylinder as Jesse jokingly called it. And his work announced that it was going to close its doors for good. They would be offered jobs at the new plant on the other side of the country. He couldn’t move, he had to stay and fight the monsters that ruined his family and life. This one was going to die a slow and very painful death. This thing turned his wife. He had to be turning more into vampires like himself.

Larry didn’t tell Jesse about his side task and assignments. He didn’t think he would understand or believe him. Made sense really, or more correctly, it made sense to not make sense. And that made no sense.

Larry settled into his new digs and set up the surveillance gear and basically waited. He knew the routine. They would become annoyed because it seemed like he complied. But the truth of the matter was, the master hunter was a patient hunter, the prey would seek him out.

He talked to his son every day. He went to class and the computer swap meets. The man learned much about his query, and his query was indeed dangerous. Larry had to stay focused, Lucius made this case personal and that could be a distraction. Larry had no idea just what this vampire would do with Beth. But that was another case that he would have to deal with later. Lucius was at the top of his things to do list. The vampire, Larry knew, was getting fidgety. As long as he left his family alone, Larry would sit and wait.

That wait ended a month later. Larry had his numerous computers running when the LED for the bedroom turn from green to red causing the main indicator to follow suit. His hand reached right and into a covered shelf and removed what looked like a small version of a paintball gun on steroids. With a 32 caliber barrel, this gun was a gas powered, lethal weapon that shot a quicksilver round. Quicksilver is also known as mercury, which is toxic to mortals and instantly and extremely lethal to vampires. He also pulled a large knife from a hiding spot under the left side of the desk. This he tucked in the back of his belt. From the top of the desk he picked up a six button remote control. The indicator for the front door changed color and the video from the front door shown another intruder.

The one in the bedroom was his first priority since he was already inside. The vampire intruder hid beside a large cabinet. Larry pressed button number five on the remote and there was a whoosh of air followed by a sound that resembled a large bag of potatoes falling on the floor. Larry had 15 minutes to get him bagged and tagged. Securing the window once again, he advanced to the front door.

By California state law, protecting one’s castle meant an intruder that had entered a home by force or an unwelcome person entering by force. Larry had to wait just in case there might be a witness around close by. Last thing he needed was someone calling the police then after investigating, law enforcement not finding anything but the legal resident and no intruder. There would be obviously more questions than answers followed by an embarrassing search. So he waited.

The knob clicked back and forth and there was pressure on the door. The pressure released then built again. Wood groaned and creaked then finally broke free. The intruder was in. Larry was waiting.

The intruder was quick. Larry was not as quick as the slash caught him across the rib cage, separating skin and muscle leaving exposed white bone. He brought the modified weapon to bear and pulled the trigger five times, three rounds found the intruder. He collapsed and Larry was on him demanding answers.

“Where’s Lucius?”

“I don’t know.” He groaned between gritted teeth.

“How many of you are there?” He hissed.

“15, maybe 20, I’m not sure.”

The intruder convulsed violently and arched up and then fell silent. Not much information but some information is better than no information. He had to bag the latest one quickly.

Larry pushed the door closed and put a chair against it to keep it shut as he worked to clean and bag before the bodies jelled into a puddle of goo.

The bodies jelled as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror with gauze, disinfectant, and a suture kit. Once completed, he taped then covered the freshly stitched wound with a gauze packing. He checked the bags noting that they were much lighter, but not quite completely broken down yet, so he went back to his computer room and checked the monitors then reset the LEDs alarms. The clock said 11:17. He checked outside and carried the now jelled vampires in smaller trash bags and placed them in the trunk of his car.

Larry looked at the old Chrysler, last of the push button transmissions with its surface rust and two and a half dead cylinders. Not only was she on her last leg, it made her easy to spot. There was a program where they state paid up to $600 for your old cars, clunkers, and other vehicles that wouldn’t pass smog any more. He had Jesse take him down to cash the car in. Jesse tried to talk him out of scrapping the old girl and he would give him eight hundred dollars for her. There was one main reason why Larry could not do that, and to which he could not tell Jesse.

As they drove away, there was a tear in both their eyes. One in Jesse’s eye for seeing a classic go to waist, and one in Larry’s eye for seeing a part of his history go away. They drove to a local used car dealer where he bought an old Hyundai Elantra. Now he would blend in with traffic.

Now it was all out war. Larry could hunt several before they knew he was driving a different car. Even then they would really have to pay attention. It blended in with most of the cars on the road. He realized the advantage immediately. He had located where four of the spawn were housed and drove right up to them. New equipment, little tricks installed, he never even got out of the car as they turned and approached the unassuming little car. Larry looked around then pressed a button which emitted a high pitched scream that only dogs and vampires could hear then pressed another button that discharged a small barrage of quicksilver pellets.

Four down, he made quick work to clean up and vacate the area, that left either nine or 14 of these monsters left, plus Lucius. He was going to need to change tactics.

He rented a large storage unit and rigged traps and trips to catch or maim some of the vampires. He wanted to throw a small party and hope the guest of honor would arrive. His elimination would be slow and to Lucius, arduously painful.

Larry was now hoping Lucius’ minions were as stupid as they were dedicated. He started by being careless about being seen and spending copious amounts of time walking around then driving to the rigged storage lot. It had taken a week, but he quickly realized that they were as careless and stupid as he hoped. They broke in and fell prey as they approached the center of the room and activated the first of several automated traps. Half of the group fell prey and the rest realizing it was a trap turned for the door. The door slammed shut as the first trap stopped and now another trap lie in wait.

Looking back at their comrades writhing on the ground, they looked for an escape route.

One of them spotted a gap between the lots at the ceiling’s apogee. They saw that they could gain access by climbing the boxes in front of it. Two tried for this access and fell into a shuddering and convulsing pile of flesh. The two remaining ran for the door and tried to pull it open. A noise so shrill that dogs close by began to howl as the high pitch permeated all the vampires’ ears causing them to cover their ears and beg for it to stop.

Larry pushed aside a box and entered the area. He pushed a button and the assaulting pitch stopped. The vampires that could, began to sit up looking at the person who so easily incapacitated them. One laughed, got up and charged. He collapsed in agony. The others looked on in horror as his skin began to boil and then shrivel into a mask of anguish that spread over his features. Seconds later, his body had one last spasm then fell silent.

One down, six to go. “Where’s Lucius?” Was all the man said. They could not understand how this overweight, kind featured individual could possibly be a threat. But here they were, corralled, nowhere to run, and one of them just killed by this man who didn’t seem to have moved, or possess a weapon. That was their worst oversight. Larry had modified his .32 caliber air pistol yet again and had it strapped to his forearm. But the fear in their eyes was real. The man exploited it.

“Where’s Lucius?” He said again with more demand and force that caused them to jump. When none of the number replied, he pointed at the biggest one in the group and he collapsed in the same agony that the first one had. The group watched the same performance as last time. Now they were just too terrified to speak.

He commanded, “WHERE’S LUCIUS?” which caused them to jump again and they were ducking and trying to get away from the pointing of the man that caused the mysterious death. Now they all began to speak at the same time. Larry rolled his eyes and yelled for them to shut up and talk one at a time. Which they did shut up at the same time, looked at each other, and then began chattering at the same time again.

He shot another one and they all stopped and looked at him. He pointed to one and said, “Speak, and answer my question. Anyone else speaks before I point to them dies. Got it?” The one spoke and told what he knew. He saw one smile a small thin smile when the one finished, Larry pointed at the one that had been smiling. “You, why are you smiling?”

“Because he’s full of shit, Lucius lives down town with some of the bums that live off of Broadway. He turns what he needs then kills them when he is done with them.” Another looked on in shock.

Larry pointed at him next. “Well?”

“Well what?” The third man said.

“You rolled your eyes, someone’s lying, revealed too much, or both are full of shit. So you tell me what the truth is?”

“Why should I tell you?” He said with a confidence that he would die quickly like the others.

“Tell me, can you regenerate limbs? I know you can heal, but what about if you lose, say, a finger or an arm?” With that, Larry strolled to the boxes that he had emerged from and brought back a short sword. The man sneered and hissed until he brought the sword into a wide arch, swinging as he would a golf club severing the man’s leg just below the knee and part way into the other leg lodging the edged weapon in the tibia. The man screamed and tried to crawl. Larry twisted the blade to break it free with a gut wrenching cracking of bone removing the blade for the second assault. This one finished the leg. Larry picked up the offending appendage and tossed it away.

He slowly walked up and took off the right arm. The leg immediately began to melt down into goo and the arm was rapidly catching up.

“Well, can you?” he hissed sternly. His voice commanding, though not loud in volume, but still carried with the same affect.

“Only if we have enough blood to drink. But it takes a lot of blood.” The man hissed between gritted teeth.

“Unless you drink from one of your comrades, I guess you’re done!” Larry brought the sword back and bought it down and through the man’s neck, cleanly severing the head with a swing that would have been the envy of any professional golfer. He walked to another vampire writhing on his back and stopped when the still dripping blade touched his neck. “Well, am I going to get a straight answer from you or do I cut out your heart and hand it to you in fifteen slices?” the man all but stopped breathing as his eyes grew wide with fright.

“Like what was already said, he hides with the illegals and homeless downtown. I swear!” He bawled out. Larry thought him pathetic. Another swing removed another head. He went to the remaining survivors and removed each of their heads.

After he cleaned up, Larry checked his monitors for any strays that had missed the initial melee. Seeing none, he opened the door and placed the bags in the back of the Hyundai. He drove to his other rental outside of town and used the incinerator. He kept vigil on the way home for a tail, but caught nothing unusual. That changed when he arrived home and found a note pinned into the metal door.

“I told you to leave my crèche alone. Now your family will die.

I think I will start with your lovely wife. Then I will go after that boy and finally you and I will settle our differences. I hope you have made peace with your god. You will be meeting him soon.

Lucius”

Larry folded the note and placed it in the diary. I had to stop reading. It had all the makings of a twisted vampire novel that you just couldn’t put down if you tried. I looked at my phone, I had been reading for over 15 hours. I was thirsty as well as quite famished. I unfolded the note and read Lucius’ words. I noticed something else as well. The ink was a ruddy brown. Could it have been written in blood?

I ate and drank in silence as I stared at the box containing the cross, the books, and the USB thumb drives. The now neatly stacked diaries from the other box. My eyes were tired and sore, my brain as well as my heart hurt. I knew some things about my out spoken friend, but I knew nothing of the other side of the man.

 

 

Chapter 5

The Confrontation

Larry was less worried about Beth. In all painful truth, Lucius was saving him the trouble of ending her existence since she was now a vampire. He cruised the homeless ridden streets looking for Lucius or giving the super vampire the opportunity to find him.

As he drove, he noticed that the Hyundai was having issues and had lost power. He and Jesse had to do a lot of work to keep it running. It wouldn’t pass smog again and Larry had to think about a new car.

He was starting to have some health issues as well. He wanted to hang up his cross, but with Lucius on the streets, along with his family, that retirement was simply out of the question.

Lucius was alone since Larry had annihilated his crèche. The master vampire knew where he lived, why not just attack and end it?

He didn’t like that Lucius knew where he lived and that was bad since he was living with a woman and her daughter. He was going to have to move again.

This he did, leaving Chula Vista and moving to an apartment complex in La Mesa, he and Jesse took the old Hyundai in to trade for a Hyundai Elantra. Good sized trunk and good cab space. It was a nice little car with a lot of pep for an economy car.

Jesse had discussed moving back to Indiana to help his family and Larry had discussed moving closer to his family in Arizona. But there was one thing left to do before he could move anywhere.

Jesse and his family had packed up and left for Indiana and Larry was still trying to bait Lucius to act. Beth had decided to move north. She had been in the Long Beach area a short time when she suddenly fell gravely ill. The doctors couldn’t find the cause of the illness. But Larry knew. Lucius had followed her north. Within a few very short days, Beth was gone.

He would be hearing and seeing Lucius next. It was less than a week before another note was found on his front door. This time, Larry captured him on video.

He froze the video and printed the face on the screen. He had seen this man downtown by the library. It was time to act. He went downtown and walked the area to provoke him. He did and he attacked when he followed Larry into a dark alley. Unsportingly, Lucius attacked Larry from behind. He almost didn’t hear him rush in.

He ducked and Lucius’ attack only grazed his back. He stood, faced Lucius and pointed at him. Lucius laughed, ducking the mercury projectile. He rushed Larry again striking several crushing blows to his chest and head. He backed up and waited for Larry to collapse in a heap at his feet. But the man stood his ground. He rushed in to deliver yet another set of fatal blows when Larry side stepped leaving Lucius striking empty air. Larry was hurt. He could feel the bones in his chest float and grate against each other when he moved. Slowly, Larry pulled the knife from its hiding place and stood letting his arm dangle as if it was severely injured. The buildings wanted to spin. His vision went in and out of focus. It was a real struggle to remain upright.

Larry’s mind was screaming for clarity. “I can’t go out like this, I must win!” He thought as he waited for Lucius’ next attack.

Lucius walked quickly up to Larry and laughed. You’re done, just lie down and die!” He said.

“I’ll not give you that satisfaction of my acquiescence. I’ll never quit!” he said. Lucius stepped in, his eyes grew wide as he stepped back and looked down. There was a black handle protruding from just below his rib cage and into his heart. Larry had no more strength to fight as he staggered from the alley. He turned to see Lucius drop to his knees and fall on his face. Larry drove out to Grossmont Hospital and walked into the Emergency entrance and collapsed in front of the intake nurse. He awoke hours later hooked up with tubes and wires. He was safe and he hoped it was over. He called his brother, and then he called Jesse. He told everyone that he had a heart attack and had to have four stints installed.

Truth was Lucius had done a lot of damage to his chest and a few internal organs. He had seven broken ribs, a punctured lung, lacerations to his liver, lacerations to his spleen and two small holes in his heart. Doctors were amazed that he didn’t bleed out from the damage that was done to his heart alone.

Three surgeries and six weeks of hospital rehab later, Larry went home. After much discussion, he agreed to move to Arizona. His son was safe and he might actually be able to retire now. He was nearing 60 with health issues. This was something that does not a good vampire killer make.

He made the move with the help of this brother in law and sister. He set up residence in Kingman hoping for a quiet and final existence. He hoped.

He lived in a humble rental for four years. He was still lonely and unhappy, his friends were far away. He and Jesse talked on the phone, but it wasn’t the same. Jesse decided to follow the entire run of route 66 from Chicago Illinois to Los Angeles. It was 24 hundred miles of American history. He stopped and spent the night at Larry’s abode and had breakfast, talked a short while and left before the heat really began to set in. He decided that he needed a vacation.

It took a little over a month, but he had set up flight arrangements to Indianapolis.

Three days before he left, there was a note tacked to his front door. It contained only four words, “We have unfinished business.” Followed by the initials “LB”

Larry sat hard in his chair. “He was dying, he had to be dead. I can’t even win in and arm wrestling match with him now.” He whispered. He packed and acquired a ride to the airport. Jesse was waiting when he landed. The trials of the past few days were now a bad memory. They toured everything, travelling all over Indianapolis and the southern portion of the state. They had taken him to their relatives in Kokomo. A few short days into his visit he announced. “I want to buy a house here.” Jesse was floored. He tried to talk him out of it reminding him of his family in Arizona and California. His mind was set for two reasons. Most importantly, Lucius would have a difficult time locating him and Jesse and his family worked in the medical field and they would be close again.

He found an unassuming house in the suburbs and placed a bid, bought it and flew back to begin packing. Jesse flew out to help load and drive to Indiana. Larry saw things along the way that scared him. The eye opener was in Oklahoma when they hit a deer in an area where deer were not known to run, but there he was. Larry noted just before impact that the deer’s eyes were blood red despite the reflecting off the headlights. There was a lot of body damage but none to the windshield or anything mechanical.

Shortly after Jesse tried to recover the broken antler then upon discovering that there was nothing left of the broken antler, he tried to break off the other antler. Larry also saw him doing some midair calculations as if he were writing on a large white board, then he slowly walked back to Larry. “We have 14 hours left and its fairly warm out. I’d say close to 55 degrees or so, I could dress him out, but where would I put him until I could get him on ice.” He then smiled and looked at the back of the moving van.

“Oh hell no, Jesse, I don’t want blood on my furniture!” Jesse started laughing.

“Just kidding buddy. The meat won’t last and we would have to wait for the state troopers to see if they would even let us take him or not. Either way, meat won’t last, ready? We will call Ryder in route and inform them. You did get the steering wheel coverage insurance policy right? That’s the one where you could just return the steering wheel and you don’t have to pay for any damages?”

“Yes.” Larry said relieved to be leaving the scene and the damned deer.

They did stop outside of Oklahoma City and purchased a roll of duct tape to stop the wind tunnel that was from the venison drive by, got a few hours’ sleep and continued on their journey.

Once again on the road, the rest of the trip was uneventful, and fifteen hours later they rolled up to Larry’s new home, they made short work of unloading the van and car to return the rig to the rental place.

Larry’s first order of business was to get the computers hooked up and running. The next priority was to get the surveillance in order and in place as soon as possible. After Jesse left Larry located placements for the cameras, ran the wires and got everything running.

His mind continued to drift back on the trip.

Did they follow him across the country? Did he lose them? Did they already know where he lived? He was tired and sore from the trip and the added stress didn’t help any.

He had his office set up exactly like his last two residences. He had made the bedroom, kitchen, and living room as he liked it. The bedroom was a location of question to Jesse as he asked why the bed was in the middle to the room and his dresser in the closet. Larry said he like the feeling of being king in his own home and the bed in the middle of the floor was like that of being a pharaoh. He laughed and dropped the subject.

Things were as they were in San Diego once again. Only here, there was peace. No calls no threats and he actually owned a house. He was getting very comfortable. Larry had established a cozy little world.

Winter set in and Jesse came to clean the drive way. Larry’s body just wouldn’t allow him to perform that task any more. He was also having more and more difficulty sleeping. Something was wrong and eating at him. He could sense it, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. The feelings were increasing daily.

He noticed his neighbor spending more and more time watching him, he made himself the nosy neighbor. He had to see everything, who came, how long they stayed, what they drove, and just short of coming over and interrogating. He became more than just concerned, was there someone new? Did Lucius find him? No, Larry knew that Lucius was dead, or was he? Who wrote the note in Kingman? He now had doubts that Lucius was really dead.

Spring came and Jesse mowed and accidentally got grass on his neighbor’s A/C unit by the fence and went back the next morning to clean up the grass. The man came out and there was an immediate verbal barrage from the neighbor. Jesse kept trying to apologize and kept looking at the cleaning equipment in his hands. The man was relentless, finally Jesse said, “I said I was sorry, I came to clean the mess. There’s no reason to act this way. It was an accident.” He spoke in a conversational and non-aggressive tone, but it was met with aggression.

“Don’t ever let it happen again or else!” He turned and began to walk away.

“Excuse me! I apologize and you threaten me? Or else what? I want to know what your punishment is for an accidental grass spray?” He just continued walking. “Asshole!” Jesse uttered under his breath. During the winter, he had even cleaned other people’s driveways. He had never done anything to him nor for him and had never given him cause to act this far from friendly accept the grass. He figured that this was a very irrational and irritable person. Afterward, to keep the grumpy individual from going nuclear, Jesse would idle the mower and cut the grass away from the fence or even coming close to the fence. Every time Jesse came out to visit or mow, the man came out and watched him like he was a child molester or murderer.

I stopped reading again. I was on the last thumb drive. He documented everything. Some of this I remembered, and obviously some things I intentionally forgot. I had long since stopped reading the dates and times and was just blipping over them now and went straight into the daily event. I was floored by the detail of my existence in his life. I rubbed my eyes and continued.

There was a note found one evening after going to Jesse’s house. Larry barely made it to his chair before falling into it. “Well vampire slayer, did you have a nice vacation?” He opened and read the note.

“Surprise, it’s me! You left me for dead. We have unfinished business to attend to and I fully intend to finish it. Lucius”

Larry found the strength to get back to his office and replay the surveillance for the time during his absence. There was almost two hours after he left. It showed his walking around the house. Then he placed the note on the door. He paused, pushed on the door, tried the knob then looked around. He looked unsatisfied as he walked away. Looking at the other cameras, Lucius made a circuit around the house trying windows and the back door until something or someone caught his attention. It was his neighbor, the one that sits and watches him when he’s outside. All the pieces fell into place. He was a spy for Lucius. A lookout man. Larry had become lax in many things. The biggest was assuming that Lucius had died. He should have finished him before he left. Lucius had looked as if he wasn’t going to survive another minute with the amount of blood he was losing. The assumption of his death could be his last mistake. He turned 62 and his health was not what it used to be. He wanted his final days to be peaceful and trouble free. It now looked like neither would take place.

The next day, Larry had to run errands. Everything went as planned. Waiting to go to battle can often be worse stress than seeing the enemy rushing your position. At least you can plan and see the enemy coming. But to wait on the enemy and not hear, see, or be able to predict it is just pure torture. The hunter’s health was becoming poor on its own without the added stress of a pending assault. He checked the video surveillance every day. Lucius would walk up occasionally, smile into the camera and leave. One day, he did not just walk up, smile and leave, he entered the house. The storage room window was jimmied. He could see him roam about the house, but didn’t see him do anything but try to circumvent the security system. Lucius walked around the house and rifled through a few things here and there then left the same way he came.

Larry tore the house apart trying to discover what he did. Finding nothing save a few shuffled pieces of paper, he sat and watched the videos again, not satisfied he pitched all the food that was not sealed, canned, or frozen. He still received no calls from the contacts. Maybe they knew of his health and wrote him off.

A few days later, he began having abdominal pain. My wife took him to the doctor. After an exam, the doctor gave him some meds and informed him that his kidneys were working at 42 percent but he should be okay. Larry returned home, thanked her for taking him to the doctor. She made him soup for lunch and after seeing if he needed anything else, she left.

We both checked on him regularly and brought food and groceries, but his health did not improve, to be on point, his health became worse. When he would lie down, pain took over his body and ran rampant through his brain. He relayed this to me though he intentionally left out the parts about his visitors. He thought nothing or that there was no connection with Lucius and his current dilemma. He also told that he was afraid that he was bothering the neighbors with his out cries.

I offered him temporary residence at my place at least until he felt better. He pontificated his decision until Monday. He called me.

“Hey, is that offer still open?” He asked uncomfortably in more ways than one.

“That offer is always open and with no expiration.”

“I’d like to take you up on that.” Larry said.

“When can I pick you up?”

“When it would be convenient for you.” He said.

“I can pick you up after I get off work. I can be there by 6:15. Is that okay?” I asked.

“I will be ready.” He said and we concluded the call. I knew that he had probably made the hardest phone call he had ever made since he called me to meet him at Denny’s all those years ago. He wasn’t one for asking for help, but he would give aide and assistance in the blink of an eye.

I drove by and picked him up. After arriving at my house and settling in somewhat, he did seem to feel a little better at first. But the night took on the late night. Larry soon became anxious over going to bed. “Jesse, I have been screaming a lot at night. I was surprised my neighbors didn’t call the police on me. The pain gets worse after I lay down.” He said.

“Well, no one will call them out here. Let’s just take it a day at a time and let’s try to get you well. If you need anything, ask or feel free to get it. Feel at home buddy as long as you need.” I said. I had no idea what we were in for.

Larry slowly prepared for bed and moved even slower to lie down knowing what was to come. Not five minutes later he was horizontal, the pain set in. my office was the next room over and was also sound proof. I could hear his muffled screams of anguish like he was sitting next to me. This went on intermittently all night.

It was most strange to someone who had no idea what was happening for no reasonable explanation. He had normal aches and pains during the day that his medications kept in check, but at night, no amount of pain killers would even touch his pain to take even the smallest edge off.

Two weeks later and no relief in sight, my wife told him, “This isn’t right, there is something seriously wrong here. Tomorrow we are going to Columbus Hospital and see if there is something else is going on, okay?”

Larry nodded, I had to leave town and would be in Chicago all day but would be back that night. My wife kept me updated throughout the day until she delivered news that drove me to return earlier than expected.

“They said his body was shutting down. He only knew, we only knew that his kidneys were working at 42 percent. They found other issues and have given him three to six months to live.” She said.

“Are you sure? Three to six months? Dang it! What did his doctor say? Did the doctors call him yet?”

“They are trying to contact him now.” She said then, “They are having trouble making sense of his test results. They keep asking about his other doctor and trying to get more information.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“There is an unknown in his blood stream. They’ve never seen anything like this before. They have tracked it back to his thyroid but can’t figure out why it is doing what it is doing to him. It isn’t even a normal hormone or even a hormone at all.” She said confused.

“Now I am confused, what is it doing?”

“It started with his kidneys. They are now down to 20 percent. His liver had a lot of damage from his past, and in this instance, it was barely functioning. His lungs were at 30 percent and his heart was the worst at 15 percent. They are going to try to boost his system. But they’re not optimistic and are sticking to his three to six timeline.” She said sadly.

“Okay, I’m going to try to wrap it up early here and get home.”

“I think that would be a good idea.” She said.

My mind took over due to his last entry. It was just before he moved in with us. “This might be my last entry. I fear the worst case scenario had now come into play. I suspect my neighbor was an informant and worked for Lucius as well as my doctor, but I cannot prove any of my suspicions. I am getting worse by the day and must take Jesse up on his offer in hoping that whatever is making me sick will go away. If I get better, I will know that it is in the house and not in me. If I do not improve, I will know that the doctor was involved and that my end is near. I am sitting in my chair waiting for Jesse to get off work and pick me up. I have my suitcase and a few items that I will need for a couple of days. The pain never ebbs and is just down right torturous when I lay down. I only plan on a couple of days as I do not wish to be a burden and do not wish to put them in jeopardy.”

My mind goes back to that Saturday. 1:40 pm my phone rings but I couldn’t hear it. I finally feel it vibrate to a voice message and listen. My wife is crying and I have difficulty making out what she is saying. So I remember calling. “The doctors just got the test results and updated his timeline as three days to a week to live.

It was a devastating blow below the belt. I walk in and begin packing up my gear. My friend needed me, or more accurately, I needed him. The others knew there were problems and I brought them up to speed as I packed up my equipment.

I left and began the long three hour drive home. The three hours seemed like 12. Thoughts and memories permeated my mind as I drove straight to the hospital.

I sat, there was nothing to say. There was no need. We had called his mother, brother, sister, and brother in law giving them the news. He hung on long enough to see them one last time. I said something to him that I had said to less than a few other men. “I love you, brother.”

Then he left the husk that was beaten, broken, and abused time and time again. The shell now lay empty, and finally looked at peace.

He was sent to be cremated as per his last wish and was sent to his youngest son.

The mighty warrior had finally retired.

 

 

Chapter 6

Epilog

Family gathered and we all said our final farewells. I had to be alone for a while.

Arrangements were made and a lawyer contacted and the estate was initiated. They had appointed me to finish the process while I was living in the area which I did with regret. I would rather have my friend back.

We all gathered one last time and had a bar-b-queue in his honor and planted a plant in his memory. His mother went back to the hotel and the rest of us took care of the home. Then everyone went home and I took care of the final steps to finish the estate.

So, here I am, exhausted, leaning back and rubbing my weary, blood shot eyes as I reread Larry’s last entry in his diary. The worn box lay open and the memory chips sit side by side in chronological order by date. The tray was resting on one corner of the box.

I picked up the cross from its confinement and examine it closely. The Latin lettering showing its age and wear. For some reason, I bring it to my nose and sniff. I don’t know why really. I think it might have been to see if it smelled of vampire blood, blood, or maybe of no odor at all. But the stains were most noticeable on the dark finish.

I place the cross back into its cradle, retrieving my handkerchief and dab my moist eyes. I miss my friend, my brother. I miss my . . . “What the heck is this?” I whispered as I look at the tray. I picked up the tray for a closer look and there is a slit in the end with just a bit of a corner of a piece of paper sticking out. I hadn’t noticed it before because of the worn felt. I had to use a pair of tweezers to extract a small piece of paper from the slit. Just as I pulled the paper free, the phone rang.

“Mr. O’Brien, we need to talk.”

 

THE END