Vampires Rule Read online

  Vampires Rule

  edited by Bob McGee

  Three short vampire tales

  OUR LITTLE VAMPIRE

  GLORIA RAMOS

  Stephen King. Dean Koontz. Jack Ketchum. Kevin stared at his stack of horror books before he finally selected one.

  The books were his escape hatch. And he found himself seeking solace in made-up horror stories rather than his own reality.

  He wished the walls were soundproof so that he could concentrate. If only they would stop.

  “It is root beer,” his father slurred. “Not beer. Not whiskey Root beer.”

  “You are a fucking dork,” his mother hissed. “A fucking drunk dork. Nine o'clock and having vodka for breakfast? Do you realize how much money you are wasting? The store is going to shit. Not to mention your life.”

  Kevin heard his father respond back with some “fucks” and a “bitch.” Then he mumbled something Kevin couldn't quite make out. He heard the door slam, and then he heard his mother crying. He picked his book back up and started reading again.

  Peace and quiet, please.

  Turning the pages, he got lost in the world of vampires.

  Kevin loved vampire stories. He had read everything vampire related he could get his hands on. Lately he had been reading too many stories where the vampire had a conscience and a moral compass. Kevin liked his vampires hostile, bloodthirsty and violent as hell.

  He sometimes found himself wishig he were the star of a vampire book. He would be the brave slayer who took down the vampires and saved the human race. At school, while his friends doodled, he would write stories where of vampires versus slayers and werewolves.

  “Kevin,” his mother's voice drifted up the stairs. “You're going to be late for school.”

  “Fuck,” Kevin sighed as he placed the bookmark inside and tossed the book into his backpack. “I'm not even dressed yet.”

  “Let's go!”

  Kevin hurriedly threw on a pair of jeans and a blue sweater with “CAL” emblazoned across the front in yellow letter. The legs of his jeans were an inch too short and growing hole just above the right knee.

  Kevin sighed. The kids would tease him again.

  “Here comes 'Broke Ass Kevin',” he could hear their voices echo in his head.

  “Kevin!”

  Kevin sprang for the stairs but slowed his gait. Hurry up for what? To be teased? Spend the whole damn day being bored in class.

  He reached the bottom of the stairs and his mother pushed a piece of burned toast into his hand.

  “Eat it,” she said. “And hurry up.”

  “Where's Dad?” Kevin asked, peering into the kitchen.

  “Where do you think?”

  He thought of his father drinking, by himself, in the bar around corner called the Lemon Tree. He would drink and drink and stare at the television until he ran out of money. Then he would come home and drink himself into a stupor in front of the television.

  Then his mother would scream at him to the point of tears. Dad would pass out, oblivious to her pain and his own.

  Kevin fantasized about being a famous vampire hunter. He would come home and save the day, stop his father from drinking and hear his mother laugh instead of cry.

  “Leave. Now,” his mother said, ushering him toward the door. “See you after school.”

  ***

  Justine sat on the couch. She looked around the house at the mess. She knew she should clear away the dishes, and run the vacuum cleaner over the living room carpet, but what was the point?

  Joe would be home eventually, and he would only come in and make a bigger mess.

  Justine thought back to when she had met Joe. He had been the life and soul of the party sure, but he knew when to stop. They went places, day trips, holidays, and he only drank on a weekend.

  They had gotten married, and Justine had been the happiest woman in the world. She had the perfect husband, and it wasn’t long until she gotten pregnant and little Kevin had completed their family. They had rented a small shop and times were good.

  As time went on, the trips stopped. Joe wouldn’t drive anywhere because then he couldn’t have a drink, and Justine couldn’t drive. Now the shop was rapidly losing money, Kevin wasn’t a baby anymore and Joe hadn’t been truly sober for over three years.

  Justine hated her life. She wished she could just up and leave, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave Kevin with Joe and she had no way of making enough money to pay for a house and all of her and Kevin’s living expenses.

  There was also a part of her that believed Joe would change. She would wake up one day and see it had all been a bad dream. Joe would be her Joe again, the man she had married, and they would be able to afford clothes for Kevin that fit him. Clothes that didn’t come from thrift stores.

  They wouldn’t fight constantly, he would be sober and she would feel motivated to make the family work again. Of course, when the drink had first gotten hold of Joe she had made excuses for him. She had tried to talk to him, to help him.

  She soon learned you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. Her friends had gradually dwindled away. No one wanted to be seen with Joe in public. He was an embarrassment, stumbling around and falling over.

  Justine couldn’t remember the last time she had gotten through a day without crying. There was a time she had held herself together well for Kevin’s sake. Now she couldn’t even bring herself to do that. She was trapped in a never ending cycle of sadness and despair.

  She tried to hide it from Kevin, but she was never quite sure if she managed it or not. He always had his face stuck in a book. Justine worried it wasn’t healthy. He should be outside, getting some fresh air, doing things other eleven-year-old boys did.

  She couldn’t refuse him the books though. They were the only things he ever asked for. She had regularly gone without a meal all day to buy him the latest vampire book he had spotted.

  Justine felt her eyes filling with tears. Determined not to cry, she stood up and walked into the garden. She crossed the lawn and made her way to their shop which was next door. Jenny, the teenager from down the road was manning the till. She wouldn’t cry in front of Jenny.

  She pushed open the door and went inside.

  “Hey Jenny,” she greeted the girl. “How’s business.”

  “Real quiet,” came the reply, the answer she had been dreading. “I’ve only sold a can of soda and a candy bar all day.”

  “Never mind, it’ll soon be tourist season,” Justine said, forcing a cheery note into her voice. It sounded fake even to her.

  “Sure,” said Jenny, although she looked far from sure.

  Truth be told, tourist season was upon them now. This should be their busiest time, but since the large supermarket had opened just outside of town, they struggled to get any one through the doors. They just couldn’t compete with the supermarket’s prices.

  Justine had done the math, and she estimated that if things continued as they were, the shop would be closed within three months. It was one more thing for her to worry about. What they would do with no income was beyond her. Joe was in no fit state to find work, and he showed no interest in doing anything except drinking and watching TV.

  She made her mind up to talk to Joe again that night. It felt like a waste of time when he was so drunk, he wouldn’t even remember in the morning, but she had to try something and waiting for him to be sober enough to remember would be like waiting for a lotto win.

  ***

  Joe stumbled along the street towards his house, cursing the landlord of his local under his breath. The man didn’t know a good thing when he saw one. Joe spent a lot of money in there and to be refused service was ridiculous, he wasn’t even drunk.

  He stumbled another step and l
ost his footing. He fell and landed on his hands and knees. Clumsily, he pushed himself back up. His hand slipped and he ended up lying by the road side on his side.

  After several attempts, he finally regained his feet. He staggered unsteadily towards the fences of the homes he passed, holding them for support.

  He finally reached his own home. He dreaded going in and getting another lecture off Justine. He remembered a time not so long ago when Justine was fun. Now all she did was nag at him. And then she wondered why he drank so much. He had to do something to block out her incessant whining.

  Joe managed to get the gate open. He walked unsteadily along the path to the front door and pulled his key out. He tried to get the key in the lock but something was stopping it. He tried again and again to no avail. That bitch must have done something to the lock. How dare she try and keep him out of his own house?

  Raging now, Joe banged on the door. He heard her footsteps approaching but he kept banging.

  Justine pulled the door open and looked at him, the contempt plain to see on her face.

  “Look at the state of you,” she sneered. “Aren’t you ashamed to be seen in public like that?”

  “Don’t start,” Joe said, falling in through the door.

  Justine rolled her eyes and stepped over him to close and lock the front door. She stepped back and went into the living room, leaving Joe where he had fell.

  She heard the banging and crashing as he dragged himself back to his feet and bounced off the walls. He hit the doorframe on his way into the room, and almost lost his footing again. Eventually, he half sat half fell onto the couch beside her.

  “I’m only trying to enjoy life,” he slurred.

  “Whatever. We need to talk,” she told him.

  He looked at her, his face slack and his eyes glassy. “Ok,” he said thickly. “Hang on.”

  He stumbled off into the kitchen. She heard more clattering about and a glass smashing.

  She got up off the couch and went upstairs. She went into Kevin’s room.

  “Kevin, you’re spending too much hiding away up here,” she told him. “You should go out and play with your friends.”

  Kevin looked up from his book and rolled his eyes. “Ok,” he said. He got up and went downstairs, not saying goodbye. She heard the front door open and shut. He had taken his book, and she was sure he wouldn’t make an effort to find any other children, but at least he wouldn’t have to witness his father in this state again.

  She went back to the living room and found Joe slumped on the couch, a can of beer in his hand. Great. Just what she needed.

  “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” She hated the fact she was always having to nag Joe, but if she didn’t, he would never change.

  “I’ve only had four pints,” he said.

  She didn’t bother arguing. His selective memory probably believed that to be true.

  “Joe, we need to talk,” she reminded him.

  “So talk,” he said.

  “Look, the shop isn’t doing so well these days. We barely make enough to cover the bills let alone anything else. We can’t afford to pay staff any longer and we can’t afford the drinking. You’re going to have to start doing some shifts in the shop or we’re going to end up jobless, homeless and penniless. It’s not fair to me and it’s not fair to Kevin.”

  “I’m not working in a shop,” he said to her. His expression of disgust was as though she had suggested he clean dirty toilets with his bare hands. “If you’re that worried about it, you work some shifts.”

  “I do. Every day. But it’s not enough, and frankly, I’m sick of working my ass off to pay for your drinking habit.”

  “Here we go again,” Joe said. “Everything’s my fault.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Justine said, struggling to keep her voice even. “I just need some help Joe, that’s all. Remember what it used to be like in the beginning? We were a team. We did everything together. Now you’re like a different person.”

  “People change Justine.”

  “Yeah. They grow up, but you never did. You’re so selfish.”

  “And you’re like a nagging broken record.”

  “You just don’t get it do you? We’re on the verge of losing everything, and you just don’t care. You don’t care about me or Kevin. We deserve better.”

  She felt the tears coming hot and thick in the back of her throat. They weren’t tears of sadness; they were tears of anger. She felt so frustrated, so angry all the time, and the tears were the only release.

  “Here come the water works,” Joe said nastily.

  “What the hell do you expect?” she shot back, hating the sound of her tear filled voice.

  She looked across at Joe and saw he had fallen asleep where he sat. The can of beer fell from his hand, spilling foam across the carpet. It was the final straw. Justine pulled her legs up under her and hugging her knees, she cried. She cried for everything they had had and everything they had lost. She cried for herself, for Kevin, and for the Joe she remembered.

  ***

  Kevin walked along the street kicking at lose stones and trash as he went. His head span with the things he wished he had said to his mother when she had told him he needed to go outside and play with his friends.

  He had wanted to shout and scream at her, to make her understand. What friends? He didn’t have any friends. The kids teased him about his clothes, his too long hair and his obsession with vampires. They laughed at him when he went to school in his too small uniform or his out of school clothes. They laughed at the holes in his shoes and his school bag which was more appropriate for a four-year-old. He was a huge joke and no one wanted to sit with the scruffy kid.

  The few friends he had made when he had started at the school, before things got too bad, had soon been scared away when they had visited his home and seen his father falling about all over and his mother screaming at him one minute and sobbing the next.

  He had seen their mothers pull them away from him when they thought he wasn’t looking.

  How his mother expected him to have friends and behave like any other kid his age was something he couldn’t work out. Didn’t she see what was going on? Or did she choose to not see it?

  He had left the house when she told him to because he didn’t want to hear what was coming next. He knew exactly what it would be and how it would go. His mother would start off trying to persuade his father to calm down his drinking. His father would insist it wasn’t out of hand. He would make some comment that would make his mother cry, then she would slip back into the despondency and the denial.

  A beeping horn snapped Kevin out of his inner monologue. He jumped back onto the side walk. Somehow, he wandered onto the road. He looked around him and realised he wasn’t where he had thought.

  He had been heading down to the park. He had found a secluded bench that had been swallowed up by the overgrown shrubbery. Whenever his mother had a motivated moment where she insisted he left his room and went outside, he went to the bench and sat and read his book, then returned home with plans to tell her all about the baseball game he had taken part in.

  It never came to that. She had always zoned back out when he arrived home, and she never asked what he had done.

  He must have taken a wrong turning somewhere along the way when he had been lost in his own impotent anger and had his eyes cast down, watching his holey shoes scuff further as he dragged them. He had ended up on an estate he rarely entered.

  It was a new estate, full of large, expensive houses. The American dream complete with porches, plinths and even white picket fences. Somewhere he could never hope to live, and somewhere he was eyed with unmasked suspicion by everyone who spotted him.

  He noticed a removal van up ahead and decided to go and check it out, see who was moving in and then to go back home. It had been long enough now that his father would be asleep, and his mother would have stopped crying.

  He edged closer to the van and watched the men bring
ing out the furniture. A small red sports car pulled up behind the van and a woman stepped out.

  The woman was tall. She had pale skin and raven black hair. She was so beautiful Kevin gasped.

  She heard him and turned in his direction.

  “Hello,” she said to him, her voice hypnotic and as exotic as it should be coming from this beautiful creature.

  “H,Hi,” Kevin stammered.

  She didn’t say anything else to him, she just sauntered off towards her new house. Her walk was graceful and cat like. Kevin knew instantly what she was. She was a vampire.

  He didn’t know whether to be afraid or excited. This was it. His chance. He would kill the vampire and become a local hero. If she didn’t kill him first. Vampires could always recognise vampire hunters.

  She looked back over her shoulder at him as she entered the house. She knew alright, Kevin was certain.

  “Watch that street kid doesn’t steal anything,” the woman told the removal men as she passed them in the hallway.

  “Yes ma’am,” one of them responded. Kevin didn’t hear the exchange. If he had have, maybe everything would have turned out differently. He would have assumed she was a well to do woman rather than a vampire and he wouldn’t have decided to hunt her.

  ***

  Kevin unlocked the front door and closed and locked it behind him as quietly as he could. He sneaked upstairs, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards on the third and fifth step. He wanted to get to his room and plan his first move before anyone heard him.

  It wasn’t to be. “Kevin,” his mother called from her bedroom. “Come in here a second.”

  Sighing, Kevin went in. His mother was laid in bed. It was only 8pm.

  “Are you ill?”

  “No honey,” she smiled. “Just tired. Your father’s asleep downstairs so I thought I would have an early night.”

  So it had happened exactly as Kevin had known it would. Her red rimmed eyes confirmed it.

  “I’m going to my room, night mom,” Kevin said, going to leave.

  “There’s a little present for you on your bed Kevin. I’m sorry I’ve been a bit stressed out lately. Things will get back to normal soon, I promise.”