If you like brandy and empty laundry baskets. Not yet, unfortunately.
__________
I turned around.
“Wait, let me guess, you always wanted to meet a vampire?”
My mind was disordered and grainy; nonsense and dilapidated ideas discussing idiocy amongst themselves. A little shakily, I stumbled back, catching myself on a rusted garbage bin that smelled of ancient forgetfulness and sour alcohol.
“I - I - I don’t believe in -”
The boy grinned and I couldn’t possibly throw my words hard enough to break his teeth.
“You don’t believe!”
Struggling to break the senseless chattering in my head, I stood a little straighter and stared hard at the freak before me. His eyes were empty but his mouth was stretched in dead amusement. I yanked on my dirty hair and fought to recall how I had managed to get chased into an alleyway.
First, I was incorruptibly wasted. Well, perhaps not quite. My excuse was wearing thin when I suddenly remembered that it had to be past three and drunk was becoming hangover. I swore and tried to stand a little straighter.
“How did I - how did I get here?” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and appreciating my lack of make-up; Daren hated make-up.
“I chased you. I chased you, I chased you, I chased you. And you don’t remember? I thought alcohol took much longer to steal memory--I don’t remember myself, of course.” He strode closer and squinted at me. The flickering light from a streetlamp dripped shadows from my eyes and I shook my head as if my ears were stuffed with dirt.
“I don’t - I don’t…Wait.” Quite a bit quicker than was comfortable, the night came roaring back. Whispering music and rhythmic disgust skittered through my mind and then I saw myself stumbling out of the crooked doorway. Something had frightened me; something I couldn’t see.
“Not that it’s much to remember. Someone told me once that girls like you dreamt about eternal damnation like it was - like it was a dream, I guess. I wouldn’t even compliment it with a nightmare, right? You need to stop pretending to be drunk, dear…”
I tripped trying to back away from him and felt my head connect with the edge of the trash bin. Swearing in every irreverent way I could muster, I got ineptly to my feet, more awake and sober than I would have liked.
“Are you bleeding?”
“Who - what - You weren’t claiming to be a -”
“Not precisely. But the implication was clear enough. Anyway, you aren’t one of those girls who is dying to, well…um, die?”
“I don’t think so.”
Bewildered and attempting to push away the reality of the situation, I tried to recall any vampire books or movies I might have been influenced by. Had I read ‘Dracula’ in school? Or perhaps seen a movie about him? In a moment of annoyance, it hit me. Ethan. A few short years ago, I had despised a girl my age for refusing eternal damnation from a beautiful boy with--well, that doesn’t matter. How could I have forgotten that Ethan was a vampire? This boy reminded me nothing of him. With short dreadlocks and a smeared, dirty complexion, there was absolutely no resemblance.
“M - maybe I -” I had to distract him while slowly making my way stealthily toward the street. “I - I sort of did. But I forgot because--wait, you’re honestly telling me that--”
“Proving, more like. Aren’t vampires always found in dark alleyways with pretty girls? And don’t the pretty girls always fall madly in love with the vampires? I feel like I read that somewhere…” he mumbled, trailing off into unintelligible noises of irritation.
“Probably not. Why would a girl fall in love with someone who had attacked her and sent her--more or less--to hell? It doesn’t make--”
“Uh-huh. But I’m still sure that I--” He was looking thoroughly perplexed and as he glanced at a particularly hungry-looking rat, I hopped a little closer to the street and raced out of the alleyway, dearly hoping for some sign of life. Light danced on the damp pavement and my breath slowly flickered and died out like the broken streetlamps. With a last gasp, I fell against an iron door covered in odd carvings and ugly faces. It had been something of a pathetic escape attempt.
“Well, not drunk anymore, right?”
I bit my lip and wondered if I had enough breath to scream. Opening my mouth didn’t seem to help and I shut it, breathing painfully through running nose.
“I’m a little annoyed that you ran like that. Normally, the girl tries to stumble away but is too distracted by the beauty of her pursuer to keep her feet. Perhaps beauty is paler and - and more - more--dammit, what’s the word?--more girly, maybe. No, taller…silent-er? That’s not even a word. Dramatic.” He took a few steps closer and frowned at me under the inconsistent light.
“What am I doing wrong? Have you fallen in love with me yet?”
Suddenly, he was overtaken with so much bottled amusement that he collapsed at my feet and screamed with pure mirth. If I had not been so shocked, frightened and exhausted, I might have tried to run again.
“You win. I’m terrified,” I murmured as he slowly got to his feet, tears leaving streaks of dirt down his cheeks.
“Hi, I’m Aaron Gerk and I’ll be your vampire for this evening.” Holding out his hand, he grinned widely and then licked his lips a little nervously. I shook his filthy hand, letting go as soon as he allowed.
“I - I don’t get it.”
The dead look in his eyes had turned paler and more subtle and I fought to predict what would happen next. A breeze tugged playfully on his dark blue jacket and a ripped pocket fluttered uselessly under my gaze.
“What do you want to get?” he asked, his gaze shadowed by forgotten laughter.
“What the hell are you and - and why are--”
“Why are I being so eerie and - and funny? Funny’s the word, all right.”
Thinking of sleep and the possibility that he was simply crazy and not dangerous at all, I began to skirt around him so I was no longer backed against a door. He flicked a quick smile and pointed at the streetlight.
“Where are the cars, Hera? Where are they?”
Was that my name? Of course it was. I had likely told him when I was drunk. Fortunately, I could not bring myself to care at all; he was quite obviously completely out of his mind.
“You’re a wild - um - a wild glitch in nature.” I felt like my pronouncement would have sounded more authoritative if I wouldn’t have stuttered.
“No, no, no. Nature doesn’t need to malfunction for me to exist. You see, my dear, I exist above nature and beyond its silly life and death issues. I hold a power that is very superior to anything that grows or learns or - or loves. I - am--” He dragged out the words and I waited for him to announce the fact that he was God or Jesus or something impossible like that. “Aaron Gerk. Pleased to meet you.”
Exasperated, I glared at him. “Pleased to--what? What is wrong with--you know what? forget it. I am not interested and - and therefore wasting your time.” Proud of my well-proportioned sentence, I turned and started to march away.
“Wasting? Time?” He laughed, neglecting to expound on the obvious implication. I took a deep breath and shoved my hands into my baggy jeans, hoping for a cell phone. Disappointed, I cursed my futuristic convenience and kicked a half full beer bottle, sending its contents spraying into the street.
“Where’re you going? Watch out for my vampire friends. They’re very loyal, right?” Footsteps echoing off deserted buildings, he caught up with me. “You know what I found out? Dead people who can do whatever they want and have no hope for happiness or salvation don’t often make very close friends. They don’t have councils or meetings or - or relationships. And they don’t ever bother with keeping secrets or hiding what they are. No respected or intelligent person believes in immortal, bloodsucking, dead people. I mean, it isn’t even possible to be dead and immortal, right?”
I made an effort to remember who he was mocking and then gave up. I thought I remembered having a conversation with a girl who wrote stories about vampire lovers and vampire families but now I felt like I must have been mistaken.
“I am going to find a taxi that will take me where I ask it to, okay?”
“Because they usually don’t? I don’t even have to ask--they take one look at me and tell me to get the hell out of their car. I don’t often mind walking, anyhow…” He began to bite his fingernails, watching me warily and perhaps waiting for me to acquire some amount of healthy hysteria. I looked up at him and tried to imagine why a taxi driver, who will usually pick anyone up, refused to drive him. Pants too short and jacket frayed and out-dated, he didn’t appear to have anything about him that would cause a Jew to refuse a few extra bucks. I assumed he was lying and focused my eyes on the sidewalk ahead of me. One more block and we would reach something of an occupied street.
“If I killed you would you be mad?”
My breath caught in my throat and I choked, suddenly unable to breath at all. Dropping onto skinned knees, I began to vomit up a puddle of vodka and orange juice. This was obviously something of a delayed reaction to the alarming events of the night. When I finally stopped retching I fell on my back on the concrete and tried to breath evenly.
“Could I take that however I please? Someone who drinks that much could not possibly have much righteous anger to throw at me, huh?” He leaned over me, his face blocking out the sliver of hopeless moon.
“You - you have a - a weird face,” I said, my voice scratched.
“Do you like it all that much? Sometimes I think my mouth is too wide but often as not I find it terribly useful.” Opening his mouth, he demonstrated its helpful size and then slammed it shut, his teeth clicking loudly.
Pinching my eyes shut, I tried to rid myself of his face and immediately failed.
“Get up,” he ordered and then began prodding me with a sweat-scented foot. I ignored him and he groaned, kicking me viciously in the ribs. Too preoccupied with the fact that I could no longer breath, I rolled into a puddle that was, luckily, not my vomit.
When I had regained the ability to speak, I swore under my breath and then cursed the god of confusing situations, who could only have been laughing quite loudly at the moment. After I believed myself to be at least half recovered, I sat up and glared at Aaron as best I could.
“That was really, really, really--”
“I hate watching people vomit. It has something to do with a suppressed memory which I have forgotten. You should have just gotten up when I told you to.”
“Obviously.”
I started to get to my feet and he grabbed my arm, yanking me up in a way that made it impossible for me to not to step into the yellow-ish puddle that used to be the contents of my stomach. “Dammit! What is wrong with you?” Thoroughly disgusted, I wrenched free of his grip and stared at my ruined shoe. Of course I could never wear it again.
“I was helping you up,” he stated, shoving his hands into the pockets of his belted slacks.
“Shut up.” It hurt to breath and so walking was much more difficult. I didn’t think my ribs were broken but they were horribly bruised, as far as I could tell. Holding my stomach, I leaned against the wall of a closed video store, waiting for breathing to come easier--it didn‘t.
“I don’t do that too well. But it looks like you won’t be able to run away from me anymore which means that I won’t have to chase you which means we are at something of an impasse. Either I kill you or someone else does, right?”
I held my breath for a moment, trying to ease the pain. “No, no, no…”
Almost glad that my mind was occupied with the throbbing in my ribs, I tried to imagine a police car roaring down the street and shooting Aaron Gerk right in his huge mouth.
“So, you want me to just leave you here to die by someone less attractive than myself? I suppose the perpetrator needn’t be pleasing to the eye to make the victim feel less uncomfortable. You see, we’re already friends, which means that you might fall in love with me when I steal your pointless life to make mine more enjoyable.”
“Don‘t kill me.” I hoped I sounded mocking but, suddenly frightened that I didn’t, I added a ‘please’ to the end.
