Vampire part 2

Note: Feel free to offer your own theories about why our narrator was unable to kill Jill the first time. I’ve already got it all figured out and I’m curious to what your thoughts on the matter are.

I was almost useless that week. Work went by in a numb daze, which was a relief. I could only think of Jill’s pointy teeth, her little snarl and, more importantly, her threat to kill me unless I came back.

I had considered playing along with her, just coming back in a week and telling her any old reason to explain why the tried and true stake through the heart didn’t work with her – but I decided against it. Truth was, I wanted to do more than escape her nasty fangs — I wanted to know how to kill her, just in case she changed her mind or something.

Sometimes, I pictured Jill mangling my neck and shaking me like a mouse, blood streaming from her chin.

I almost puked.

The first step of my research was to borrow my friend’s copy of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel. I hoped that modern “interpretations” of vampires would work but, after the first few episodes, I realized that they wouldn’t help me unless I was some kind of supernatural hero person thing with elite fighting skills.

Which I wasn’t.

Regular people like me always seem to get their asses kicked in one way or another. It’s mighty discouraging.

But I continued to watch, which was just as well since the story was pretty cool and everything. Also, I forgot about holy water and decapitation.

I rifled in my aunt’s jewelry for a crucifix as well. She’s real big on the religion and I figured she’d have so many that she’d never notice if a few went missing.

I wasn’t disappointed. I grabbed three necklaces and arranged it so that one hung in front of my neck and one on the right and left side, beside the general area of the jugular (managing the chains to stay just right was a lot harder than it sounds, by the way). If Jill or any of her cronies tried to bite me I hoped they’d smolder their tongues right off. Maybe give them a bitter taste of holy in the process.

I also broke a particularly ugly piece of wooden furniture for a nice, big, pointy stake. I thought it’d reassure me with its weight and pointy-ness, but it felt as useless as the pencil.

I wasn’t able to procure any holy water. When I said it was for a vampire they looked at me funny and very politely escorted me from the church.

I bet they laughed behind my back.

When they get attacked by mysterious creatures of the night who bite as they smile at you, I hope they remember me. Not quite as good as an I told you so, of course, but I didn’t care.

I just wanted to survive my next encounter with Jill the Vampire.

The blood donation building seemed as normal as last week. I guess the old adage about not judging books by their covers applied to buildings too.

Don’t judge a building by its normalcy. DANGER might Lurk in the very hallways. Dangerous creatures with large pointy teeth with insatiable blood lusts who will bleed you dry and then probably dump your corpse unceremoniously into a nearby river or worse dumpster.

I won’t deny that I almost ran right then and there, but then I remembered the vampire’s threat.

I hadn’t realized that walking could be so hard until that day. Or that my arms could have ever felt so heavy as when I tried to open the door.

Jill was waiting for me behind the counter, except her silver name tag didn’t say Jill anymore. It said Calypso.

She smiled toothlessly at me. It still wasn’t very reassuring. “You came.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice,” I said. There was an uncomfortable pause and I fumbled for my stake. I’d turn her entire chest into swiss cheese if I had to. “You changed your name.”

“Jill was never my real name,” Calypso said. “I don’t remember my real name. I think I might remember if I saw it again though.”

“How can you not remember your name?” I asked, wondering why this wasn’t in any of the movies or the books.

“It happens sometimes…we wake up from the grave very hungry – who wouldn’t, being dead and all right?” Calypso laughed. “Some of us remember humans and how it was like…before, but the hunger is too great for some. We just want to feed and feed, feel the life pour into us, the fear, the loathing. Some of us go after animals instead, so that we wouldn’t hurt someone. I was one of those. I lived by myself for a very long time. But I found a human once. Animals don’t feel as they do, they just understand survival, but I was already intimately acquainted with survival. I drank the human’s blood and came back to small towns and cities. Things had changed a lot since I was first bitten and it was all very good and delicious.”

I wanted to puke. “But Calypso isn’t a real name.”

“It’s a kind of music. It makes me want to dance when I hear it. Dancing makes me feel alive.”

“Oh,” I said.

“Come. You have to give blood.”

“Actually, I’m supposed to wait for a few weeks after –” I cut myself off when I saw the tiniest hint of a fang when she curled her lip at me. Apparently, bargaining was out of the question.

The necklaces jingled and rearranged themselves as I stretched myself on the cot they had set up.

“They won’t help you,” Calypso said as she slid the needle into my vein.

“Crosses don’t hurt you?” I asked, heart sinking.

“No, they do, though I’ve often wondered why. Crosses were used in crucifixion – a painful, brutal form of death. We are dead. We are brutal. We hunger, as the wood and those who fashioned the cross hunger for pain. We kill, just as the cross kills. It should be a thing of beauty for the vampires, but it is not. I do not understand why. We should be able to wear them on our necks.”

The above speech did little to reassure me that she’d keep her promise about not killing me until I figured out the secret. “Why did you say that the crosses wouldn’t hurt you?”

She put her fingers to the chain and ripped them from my neck. The small silver crucifixes scattered to all corners of the room.

Calypso smiled at me.

It was very chilling.

“Have you figured out why your ill advised though brave attempt to kill me failed?” Calypso asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Is it some sort of magic spell?” If it was magic, I’d tell the vampire that she couldn’t kill me until I discovered the exact name and nature of the spell. I figured that’d be my best bet at staying alive the longest. Hopefully, if it was some kind of ancient curse, it’d take me a good long while to figure it out.

Calypso laughed. “Nothing so dramatic as magic.”

My heart felt sick at the words. “So magic does exist then?” I asked.

“Of course it does. Are you blind?”

“I prefer the term unobservant,” I said. “So, since it’s not magic or anything, does that mean I’m off the hook?” Nothing wrong with wishful thinking, right?

“No. You must figure out the secret so that I can kill you.”

“I thought you didn’t like killing humans? You’re so confusing.”

“I don’t, as a general rule. But you tried to kill me – you know that I am a special vampire. I must know if my secret is easily figured out. I must know if you will tell.”

“Oh. What if I promise not to tell a living soul?”

“Promises are easily broken.”

I frowned. “But why would I tell anyone?” I tried not to think about how I had told the priests about the vampires. “They’ll just think I’m crazy anyway!”

“And someone crazier than you will believe and come after us. I do not want to deal with crazy people.”

“Oh.”

“You will come back next week with another potential explanation,” Calypso said.

“If you try to bite me though, I will kill you,” I said. I decided to try to exude positive energy by saying will instead of try.

Calypso laughed. “How?”

“Well, you still have your head, so I can still lop it off and then poof, you’re dead.” I tried not to think of heads thudding and rolling across the floor. It made my stomach all queasy again. And as for the vampires going poof when they died, that’s a misconception let me tell you – the vampire I had killed hadn’t conveniently turned to dust. It was all very strange and mildly disturbing.

“Real swords are in short supply these days. Would you even know how to swing one? Your strokes will be slow and cumbersome because your arms are weak. You are no warrior.”

Calypso was such a confidence sucker.

I didn’t stay for cookies after she finished drawing my blood.

“Come back next week with a somewhat logical reason for why you couldn’t kill me with the stake,” Calypso said. “If you do not return, I shall hunt you out.”

“I got it the first time you told me,” I said.

The thought still scared me. I wondered if the terrified feeling would ever go away, or if I’d become so used to being scared that I wouldn’t notice it anymore.

I hoped so.