A Rude Awakening

Tangent Universe Entry for Round 2 ~ Music Prompt: Easy Way Out by Gotye.

         Patric wished that it was warm enough to have the top of his convertible down, but it was just too chilly this close to the ocean as he drove his 1966 Chevy Impala along Highway 101 headed north to Yachats, Oregon and with any luck a new life. He’d left California, Rachel, and everything he considered an extension of hell within seventy two hours of having his divorce finalized. The only things he’d taken were his clothes, his medical tools and his books, leaving Rachel everything from the house to the furniture and every other thing that the money grubbing bitch had pouted about.

         To say that Patric was bitter about Rachel was an understatement in the extreme. It had been with utter relief that he’d accepted the certified letter in which her petition for a divorce was enclosed. She’d worn him down with her incessant nagging, bitching, and domineering… until he’d finally learned to tune her out. Unfortunately in tuning her out, he’d become bored and exhausted because tuning her out meant working longer and longer hours until he had no life left.

         When he’d called his uncle, Jase Edwards, once again complaining about Rachel and this time exulting in her wish for a divorce, Jase had invited Patric to join him in Yachats and take over his veterinary practice. Patric had jumped on the chance to hang with his uncle, who was only three years older than himself… although Patric couldn’t figure out how he stayed so young looking. Even Patric was seeing the signs of a receding hairline and grey, as well as a few new lines in his face.

         So, now Patric found himself driving to Yachats, looking to reconnect with life and his passion for… well, for everything. He was tired and looking for an easier life… which meant any life without Rachel.

         As Patric followed the road through Yachats to the north side of town and the winding road that led to Jase’s property, he noticed that there were very few people out in the streets. The mid-fall sun was low on the western horizon, but it wasn’t yet five and Patric couldn’t account for the lack of population. Even in the ‘bustling metropolis’… and Patric used that term loosely… of Ukiah, people had been around the town, shopping, socializing and whatnot until at least seven or eight in the evening depending on the season.

         Shaking his head, Patric turned off Highway 101 onto a narrow, poorly paved road that was named Thorn Street. He didn’t know why they’d called it a street, it was barely a single passable lane and at no point did it seem wide enough to have two cars side by side on it as it wound its way uphill. Thorn turned to Diablo Lane, which climbed even higher up the steep hill, and Patric knew he was close. A small smile lifted his full, pouty lips and lit the blue depths of his eyes. Running a hand through his messy and softly curling dark brown hair, Patric continued to follow Diablo Lane. His small smile grew to a wide grin as he turned into Jase’s driveway, the only one on the north side of Diablo.

         Scratching the dark five o’clock shadow on his very square chin, Patric’s angular face seemed more chiseled and rugged with the stubble. He pulled the Impala to a stop and turned it off. The house looked the same as it always had when his grandparents had lived there. It was a classic Victorian with gingerbread detail on the porch and at the windows that overlooked the town of Yachats. The windows seemed dusty in the evening light, all the way to the top of the three story house to the widows walk. The paint on the pillars of the porch and the shutters on the windows was peeling, revealing the dark trim color that had once graced the house.

         Patric grinned broadly when his uncle opened the porch screen door and motioned him in from the shadows. Stepping out of the warm setting sun, Patric walked to the house, noting Jase’s appearance as he went. Jase seemed paler than usual, but still just as young and handsome as ever… it was as though the man didn’t ever age… so unfair! His dark hair, a few shades darker than Patric’s, was combed back from his high forehead and Patric knew that the widow’s peak that he had obviously came from his father’s side of the family.

         “Patric! How was the drive?” Jase asked as Patric reached the deep shadows of the porch and the door. Patric shook Jase’s hand and marveled at the strength he felt in that simple touch.

         “It was good… quiet… no harpies yapping in my ear,” Patric smirked with the snide comment about Rachel. Jase laughed as he followed Patric into the house.

         “I hate harpies!” Jase moaned sympathetically.

         Patric enjoyed the evening with his uncle, catching up and talking about subjects that had nothing to do with anything feminine or female related. Patric mused as the night darkened that Jase’s eternal good looks may just be because he had nothing to do with women. With a huge yawn at ten, Patric stood and asked Jase where he was to sleep. Jase took him up the stairs to the second floor and showed him a large, well-appointed room across from the bathroom. Within half an hour, Patric was settled into the king sized bed and already deeply asleep.

₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪

         Patric woke at eight the next morning feeling rested for the first time in longer than he could remember. With no shrew in the bed with him and utter quiet surrounding him, Patric felt a sense of peace settle over him. He pulled himself from the bed and padded across the hall to the bathroom. Patric snickered to himself when he heard Jase’s snores from the floor above.

         He went to the kitchen of the old house and smiled. It was just as he remembered it from visits as a child when his grandparents had lived here. The linoleum was faded and the counters were a bit more battered with age, but they were familiar and comfortable to Patric. He scavenged around, looking for something to eat. After breakfast and a leisurely shower, Patric lounged in his room, reading until nearly noon. To his surprise Jase continued to snore away on the third floor. With his uncle still asleep and boredom setting in, Patric decided to explore the town, so leaving a note for Jase, he took off in his Impala.

         Yachats was not a big town, it had no big box stores, mom and pop only and a large church dominated the vista with its tall steeple. Patric decided to park and walk as the day was unusually fine for fall in the Pacific Northwest. He strolled at a leisurely pace along the streets, once again noticing that there were very few people out and about. It seemed strange to him and the people he did meet were aloof and nervous. Around two, Patric had seen most of the town and found himself in a small hole-in-the-wall bookstore looking through a section of used books that were mostly mysteries.

         “Hey,” a quiet voice whispered from behind him. Patric turned and found himself almost nose to nose with a skinny blond man whose face was pock marked and his blue eyes gave the impression of being twitchy. Patric tried to back away and regain his personal space but was stopped by the shelves of books so he sidestepped. Blinking back his surprise, Patric took a deep breath then almost gagged at the strong smell of garlic that struck him like a physical blow.

         “You’re new here… aren’t you?” the blond whispered. Patric nodded feeling off balance after having been surprised.

         “Leave… while you still can. Don’t stay… and whatever you do, do not go near the Edwards place… it crawls.”

         “Excuse me?” Patric frowned, nonplussed and uncomfortable.

         “Yachats is a haven for the beasts…” the blond continued as though Patric hadn’t spoken.

         “Beasts?” Patric asked.

         “Yeah. Vampires… the undead… the place is crawling with them.”

         Patric snorted, unsure if the man was unstable or just messing with him. “That’s a bit Frog brothers isn’t it?”

         “Frog brothers?” the blond asked, confusion lining his nervous face.

         “You know, The Lost Boys… eighties flick…?”

         “Never heard of it. Listen to me. You need to get out before you get sucked in or just sucked, man.”

         “What the hell are you on?” Patric finally asked impatiently.

         “On? I’m not on anything. I’ve been following and watching you. You seem like the innocent sort…” The blond denied.

         “Bullshit. You’re high or something. Bug off.” Patric said defiantly. He put the book that he’d been holding back on the shelf and stalked from the store while the strange blond man yelled ‘stay away from the Edwards place!’ after him.

         It was nearly three when Patric got back up the hill to Jase’s. He was still unnerved and annoyed when he walked through the door and to his room. To his surprise, Patric could hear Jase’s snores.

         “What the…? He’s been sleeping all damn day!” Patric grumbled to himself. In his mind he heard the blond man from the book store.

         ‘The Edwards place crawls… vampires…’

         Patric shook his head and snorted in disgust.

         Jase didn’t surface until nearly five that afternoon, leaving Patric to entertain himself. When his uncle did finally emerge from the third floor, Patric had managed to convince himself that the blond weirdo had been messing with him, trying to freak him out.

         “So what did you do today?” Jase asked as he stumbled into the kitchen a bit ruffled and sleep-worn but just as handsome as ever.

         “Not a lot. Got used to the place, checked out the town.” Patric replied nonchalantly.

         “Right on. This evening, I’ll take you to the clinic and you can check it out. I’ll give you keys and stuff.”

         Patric frowned, wondering how Jase could maintain a veterinary clinic when he slept all day.

         “What’s with that face?” Jase asked good-naturedly.

         “How do you run your practice if you sleep all day?” Patric asked, still frowning in confusion.

         “The bulk of the animals I see are nocturnal. That’s why it’s awesome to have you here. You can handle things during the day and I’ll cover the night.”

         “Oh,” Patric said, feeling a bit dumb for not having thought of that. “Okay. I can leave whenever.”

         “Cool. I’ll just go clean up and we’ll go in about half an hour.”

         Jase turned and left Patric feeling oddly unsettled.

₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪

         Patric spent the next two days cleaning the office and clinic. He also spent that time wondering how Jase could
possibly carry on his practice in this place when it looked like it hadn’t been used in at least twenty years. At odd moments, Patric would look up from whatever he was cleaning and see the strange blond man standing outside the clinic. At these moments, Patric would shudder involuntarily and turn away as he heard ‘stay away from the Edwards place!’ or ‘Yachats is a haven for the beasts!’ echo in his mind.

         Each day, Jase would sleep until nearly five in the evening, so Patric would try to time his arrival back at the old Victorian home so that they could spend some time together before Patric turned in for the night. He had no clue when Jase left the house, nor did he ever hear Jase moving about. By the weekend, Patric was having difficulty suppressing his growing unease around his uncle and had begun having strange strobe-like dreams of Jase dressed like a caricature Dracula and the weird blond man.

         On Sunday, Patric entered the church with its tall steeple gracing what little skyline there was to Yachats. He was stunned to see only a handful of people, including the blond man who’d recently started haunting his dreams. Swallowing nervously, Patric took a seat in a pew as far away from the blond as possible. His eyes widened with horror when the blond stood and moved to sit behind him.

         “You should leave… you still can… it isn’t too late for you,” the man hissed in Patric’s ear as the powerful odor of garlic made Patric’s eyes water.

         “Leave me alone!” Patric snapped back in a hushed voice.

         “I know you’re staying at the Edwards place. If they haven’t turned you yet, you can still leave!”

         “Who is turning what?”

         “It’s only a matter of time before they turn you into one of them.”

         “If v…vampires…” Patric stumbled over the word, his mind rejecting the crazy notion with every thought it had, “…
really exist, why aren’t you one? Why haven’t you left?”

         “I can’t leave because my dear, sainted mother,” the blond man rolled his eyes as the sarcasm dripped from his tongue, “hasn’t died yet. Someone has to take care of her. And I’m not stupid… I have made my home one of the only safe places in this God-forsaken town. As night falls, I hunker down and keep to myself.”

         “Okay, whatever,” Patric snorted in denial. “Don’t they need to feed or something? There aren’t enough people in this town to keep… keep…”

         “Bloodsuckers?” the blond supplied helpfully.

         “Sure, whatever. Where do they get the… stuff they need to feed on?”

         “Dude… we’re in the middle of a state park that is a favorite among campers… and we’re right on Highway 101. Yachats is like roach motel… people check into the area but they never check out.” The blond said incredulously, making Patric feel stupid again. “Look, if you don’t believe me, go check on Jase Edwards. I’ll give you dollars to donuts that he’s in that lair of his sleeping in his little box.”

         “What little box?”

         “Good night man! What are you an idiot? Any fool knows that the undead bloodsuckers sleep in coffins of some sort.”

         Patric turned and glared at the man, indignation and irritation flaring in his heart.

         “And just how many… ahem… of these sorts do you think are living in that house?”

         “Hell if I know… I’m not stupid enough to be living in it!”

         “Look asshole… I’m getting tired of you…”

         “Check. The only way you’ll believe me is to see it with your own eyes.” The blond man urged. “But don’t wake any of them…”

         Patric sighed disbelievingly and rolled his eyes.

         “Seriously… check but don’t disturb them.”

         “You’re full of shit!” Patric snapped. He stood and left the church, slamming the door of his Impala. With one last snort of annoyance, Patric tore out of the parking lot and sped up the hill to his family home.

         He managed to ignore the now constant echo of ‘check but don’t disturb’ in his ears for nearly an hour after returning to the old Victorian. Finally, snarling in anger, Patric decided that he needed to shut the stupid blond man’s voice up and he started up the stairs toward the third floor. As he neared the landing and the door that led to Jase’s space, his heart began hammering in his chest and a fine film of sweat covered his body.

         With his heart beating madly in his throat, Patric swallowed hard and turned the knob, opening the door noiselessly. He stepped into the place that Jase called his own and was surprised at the opulence of the room. It was much more grand and luxurious than any other space in the house. The walls looked like they were covered in a deep wine colored velvet jacquard fabric. A plush chesterfield sofa and settee sat at an angle in one corner with an antique floor lamp between them. A small round table with four chairs sat in the opposite corner of the room with a single wide window between it and the settee. The floor was covered in a stunning antique Persian area rug and a single door led off to the right.

         Trepidation slowed Patric’s feet as he walked to the door. He wiped his sweaty palm on his jeans before putting his hand to the knob and turning it. His heart stuttered and stopped as it fell in horrified shock. In this room was five long boxes, lined from right to left side by side, which could only be what the blond man had called coffins. Snoring filled the room, seeming to bounce and rebound off the dark walls, making it impossible to know which box it came from.

         Patric closed his eyes in abject horror as the reality of what his eyes were seeing washed over him. Who was in the other boxes if Jase was only in one? And which one was Jase’s? Patric hadn’t seen any other room or door that Jase could possibly be in. His curiosity got the better of him and slowly, with his body shaking violently, he went to the box on the far right.

         With a trembling hand, Patric raised the lid and almost passed out. His father lie against the plush interior, his face chalky white but handsome, younger than Patric had ever known him. The eyes that Patric remembered as being the color of the sky were closed and a soft rumbling snore emanated from the sleeping form. Feeling as though the air were becoming too thin to breath, Patric turned to the next coffin. He walked around and opened the lid, barely managing to stifle his cry of shock.

         There laid his grandfather, the man who’d once owned this house and taught him the rules of chess. The snoring that had become louder with the second open lid made Patric realize deep in the recesses of his mind that he hadn’t heard Jase snoring, but his entire family. Close to hyperventilating, Patric opened the next lid and closed his eyes as tears of pain and disbelief flooded them. Lying there with the most peaceful and beautiful look on her young face was his grandmother. She was much younger than he’d ever seen her, but remembered pictures of her wedding in which she’d looked just as she did now. She’d always comforted him and given him cookies and cocoa.

         It was with no small amount of fear that he opened the fourth coffin lid. Patric was unable to staunch the shrill scream that broke free of him. His mind could not believe his eyes and it could not stop the horror of his discovery. As Patric screamed in abject terror and misery, the fifth lid flew open. Without a moment to react, Patric felt a sharp piercing sensation on his neck just where the carotid artery pumped his blood through his body. The scream died in his throat as the world became fuzzy and Patric began to feel himself slumping to the floor. His eyes closed and he knew no more.

₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪

         Patric felt strange. His body felt chilled yet warm and a soft hand caressed his cheek. He didn’t want to open his eyes because wherever he was, it was peaceful and he liked the way the hand on his face felt. As he lay there, he took stock of his body aside from the gentle sensation of the hand. His ears seemed to be working because he could hear murmurs of voices, deep voices and higher, softer voices. He moaned to see if he could and found that he could vocalize. Still unwilling to open his eyes, Patric tried desperately to remember what had happened when two of the voices came to his ears and they were agitated.

         “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t know what the hell was going on and it was an instinctual reaction.” Patric could hear Jase say defensively.

         “You should have been more cautious,” another male voice scolded.

         “Hopefully he’ll have turned and all will be fine,” Jase countered.

         “If he doesn’t wake soon, your impulsive actions will have completely ruined everything,” the other voice snapped.

         As Patric listened, the memory of finding the coffins and their contents flooded him. With a surge of panic, Patric’s eyes flew open and widened in shock.

         “Mom?”

word count: 3371