The Obsessive Compulsive Vampire 2

Here is part two. Don't have a pay account yet, so this is a pain for you readers.

He was a little proud and somewhat ashamed everytime he received his check in the mail. There was something terribly wrong about being paid for a story on exotic places and trips he had never been to or seen. With the internet at his fingertips, he had learned that it was possible to write travelogs without having ever stepped out of his apartment. It wasn’t something his mom was proud of, and neither was he, but at least he didn’t’ have to leave put up with a lot of crowds to write his stories and from some of the other stories he had read, he was one of the best. His editors thought so too.


He spent the first night catching up on a story of the Paris catacombs he had written for a ghost hunter magazine. He thought his having never been there let his imagination take over. He was quick to notice his reflexes were better and was able to type faster than he ever had before. Files that might take him three hours to complete were done in forty-five minutes. The computer however was still slow. He vowed to buy a new one as soon as he could afford it.

When he was done with that, it was time for a small cup of blood. He still couldn’t get the taste of it out of his mouth and the older it got the worse it tasted. Mom told him which butcher had the best cuts and therefore the best runoff. It amazed him that there was enough call for the stuff for the butcher to carry it on a regular basis. Vinni, the butcher told him there was a large group of immigrants that used it for everything from blood pudding to blood with noodles, consumed by some of the Orientals in the neighborhood. Charles was reminded that even though he didn’t care for people much, he was sure glad they were around.

Once he finished the second cup, he was usually in front of the TV, trying to find something on at night. He was determined that with the new computer, Tivo was his next purchase.

He was still sleeping in his closet. It was cramped and hard to find a comfortable spot. He noticed that by the time he felt sleepy, it was too late to do anything but climb in the closet. It wasn’t until Saturday night that he realized what his new lifestyle might mean.

He was sitting at the computer finishing up the week’s work when it hit him. He had just been watching a movie about his kind less than a week ago. He remembered watching Bela come out of the coffin.

“I can’t stay in a coffin,” He thought. The closet was suffocating as it was. He had always been afraid of tight spaces ever since he was little.

He had been playing with his cousin in a time before he was afraid to be around people. They had been playing army and Scott had been his sergeant and was making him go through boot camp before he would let Charles use his extra bb gun.

Scott had set up a makeshift obstacle course with some old tires, a swing set and a sewer pipe that ran through his parent’s backyard. Charles ran through the tires, proud to not have tripped, used the bar of the swing set to monkey to the other side and then was told to climb through the sewer pipe.

It was just large enough the boys could climb through and Charles had been through it many times before. He was half way through when he realized he had turned his right leg the right way and was jammed in at such an angle that he couldn’t pull it loose.

He tugged and tugged. The more he struggled the dirtier he got. The mosquitoes were having a field day with him and spider webs were clinging to his face. He screamed to get Scott to pull on him, but Scott became too scared to crawl in the get him. He didn’t want to be stuck either.

“Go get someone!” Charles shouted. Tracks made by his tears make clean tracks on his dirty face. He saw Scott disappear.

He had no idea how much time passed in the tunnel. He face dried, his leg kept getting sorer and he could feel the bugs crawl up his shorts. He saw a wolf spider at the opening he was facing. He watched her come closer and he started blowing, trying to send her the other direction. She kept coming and he used his hands to throw dirt at her. Still when he stopped, she kept moving.

He started screaming for his cousin, his aunt, anybody. He screamed until he grew horse. He screamed until he couldn’t breathe and passed out.

When he came to, he was lying on his aunt’s couch. She was wiping away the dirt and sweat away from his forehead. He was getting clean and he never had felt better in his life. He insisted she call his mother. Charles never stayed at his cousin’s house again.

Right at that moment he got up and went into the kitchen and got some duct tape from the junk drawer. He took it into his bedroom and taped down the edges of his curtains. He would miss his view, but it was better than sleeping in a closet. I should have thought about it earlier, chastising himself for opting for the closet for the last few days.

He pulled down the heavy wool blanket he kept in his closet, started to tape it up over the window and then thought better of it. He left the room and then came back in with aluminum foil. Well, he thought, it works for aliens. He taped it over his curtains and then added the blanket. He would just have to test it in the morning.

He knew the legends, at least what Hammer films had to say about them. He decided it wasn’t enough. The library was a limited resource and the thought of being in the public still freaked him out. He had the best resource at his fingertips.

He sat down at his desk and clicked on his web browser.

“Vampire”

The first few pages were devoted to the legends he had already heard. Unable to withstand the sunlight. Drinks blood. Doesn’t like garlic…

He went to the kitchen and straight to the spices he kept. Garlic Salt. He opened the canister and smelled. No problem there. He sprinkled some in his hand. No burning. Then he stuck the tip of his tongue in the little pile. Other than a garlic buzz, nothing. Just an old wives tale.

He went back to the computer. Vlad the Impaler looked like Gary Oldman to him. He made a note to avoid wooden stakes. He went into his bedroom and pulled out the silver cross his mom had given him. It made him feel a lot better when it didn’t burn him.

He read the theories on demons and the stories about people who were thought to have been vampires. One lady bathed in the blood of young women to keep herself young. Site after site streamed by. When the sites started referring more to bats than to supernatural beings, he entered a new search.

“Drinking blood”

He found references to blood pudding and blood drinking around the world. Something caught his eye before he went to the next page. He went back. It was listed along the bottom of the link, not apart of the search so it did not stand out.

Vampire Clubs

He clicked the link. This was definitely underground. There were clubs formed by people who claimed to be vampires and those who were vampire wanna be’s. Were they real he asked himself. There was one just outside the city. Weird, he thought. It was best for him to avoid such places. He had never been to a real club let alone one with a bunch of freaks.

The sunlight thing was real anyway. The blood thing was very real. Maybe this was a disease. Maybe the Beauty had given him a supernatural type of cooties.

Where was she? Who was she? Where were his wipes? Why did she do this him and why did she choose him over the others in the coffee house?

He finished watching TV and went to bed. He woke up the next night, without a crick in the neck and a horrible thirst.


He finished the last of the blood he had and ran down to the butcher.




Just when he thought he might be able to adjust to his new lifestyle, Charles learned a new truism. “Vampires cannot live by animal blood alone.”

Over the past couple of nights he had noticed that he would stay hungrier longer and was drinking more and more each time. As each drink became less and less satisfying he realized his stomach was no longer the king of his digestive system.

When he ate he could feel his heart begin to race. More and more it took longer to pick up speed. He had also started to feel it skip a beat. His stomach and heart had switched places.

It was Thursday night as he was sticking his finger in his cup to get the last drop that he made a horrible realization. Animal blood was like drinking water to him. A person could drink waster to feel fool, but without food…

It was late. There was nothing he could do and no one to talk to. He wanted his mom, but he would have to wait until tomorrow.

Charles’ mom opened the door to a maelstrom the next night. Her son staggered across the threshold and into the kitchen.

“Charles. What’s wrong?’

‘Hungry. So hungry.” He whispered in an animal growl.

“Out back. There’s a chicken out back.’ She watched her son fly out the back door before she could tell him she had a cheap sweat shirt for him to change into.

She stood on her tip toes at the sink to look out the window. She watched her son reach into the cage she had brought home. He did not snap its neck or even cut the head off with the axe she had sharpened. She watched her proper son, who detested eating with his fingers, getting dirty, and who was allergic to every animal known to man, bite into the neck of the chicken and tear off the bird’s head.

She watched him struggle to pull the head from the body; the tendons made it a challenge. He gave up and stuck the breadth of the neck, like a bottle, into his mouth, leaving the head swinging, hitting him in the chest. It left stains on his collar that matched the drippings coming from the body.

She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and went into the living room to watch the ten o’clock news.

She heard him come in and felt rather than saw him in the doorway. She resisted the urge to turn and look at him.

“There’s a sweatshirt in the guest room.” She said. A minute or two later, she heard the pipes rattle as he turned the shower on. Half an hour later, he came in and sat on the couch next to her. It was a moment before he spoke.

‘It’s not enough,” He said as he watched the light of the TV flicker across his mother’s face.

“I was afraid it wouldn’t be.’ He watched as she pulled a wipe from the pocket of her apron, open it and wipe down her wrist to her elbow and then she closed her eyes and held her arm out in front of him.

He couldn’t help but laugh and grab her arm. He hugged it to his cheek.
“Mom, I can’t do that.”

“Why not? I don’t have any diseases.” She looked hurt and relieved at the same time.

“Mom, you have anemia and well, it’s weird.”

“What do you mean it’s weird?”

“I don’t know it just is.”

He told her about the club he had read about on the outskirts of town. As much as he dreaded it, his plan was to drive out there and see if he could find a solution to his problem. He dreaded it and just the thought made him wish he could accept his mother’s offer. Either way, he couldn’t live like this for much longer.

He thanked her for the meal, her patience with him and her love and went home. He remembered the website. The club was busiest on Saturdays and full of vampire wannabes. Who knew, may be they kept some O positive in the back for the weird ones.

Chapter 4

Traffic was heavy Saturday evening. His Volvo made its way to the outskirts of town.

The club’s outer structure was created from an old greenhouse that had gone out of business.

Charles pulled his car into the farthest spot he could find from the front door. He did not believe that the crowd inside the building would be too upset to hit it with their own doors. He pulled on the gloves he wore out in public and made sure he carried plenty of wipes.

He saw very few others in the parking lot and could hear nothing from the building itself. He walked to the front door. He was aware that he needed to make sure to leave plenty of time to get home. He opened the heavy wooden door and was assaulted by music.

The stucture’s natural arch allowed the owner to design the interior to mirror an old gothic cathedral. Charles was not able to identify the material. Unbeknownst to him, the glass had been replaced with that prevented the sun’s natural light from harming the potential customers. The effect though was stunning, the walls not allowing the lights from the inside to escape and cast no reflections upon the walls themselves.

The people inside were eclectic. In one glance, Charles saw Victorian garb with lace, business suits, tuxedos with top hats, leather with studs and normal outerwear for this time of the year. The colors on the other hand were not as varied. Black, red, white and more black.

He edged his way along the wall and tried to make himself as small as possible. How did he decide who to talk to?

Each behaved according to their dress. The Lestats and the Louise made
romantic eyes at each other whether they were male or female. They
reserved their talking for each other and shunned the others at the party.
The Draculas were suave and mingled wherever the young women were. The
Goths were strictly to themselves. They considered all others posers. The
street clothes just tried to blend in. Charles was a group unto himself.
He had dressed in a business suit and tie and remained plastered to the
wall.

Two or three waitresses ignored him as he tried to get their attention.
Each carried a tray of glasses filled with different concoctions. Some
were filled with champagne, red and white wine, beer and the occasional
glass with an unrecognizable substance. It could have been a bloody Mary,
it could have been V8 but to Charles it was something darker, something
possibly more inviting.

“Excuse me, miss. Excuse me, I was…” Charles kept missing each one as
they went by. Each attempt led him further and further away from the
safety of the wall. He found himself in the sea of clubbers when one of
them backed into him. He turned around to see a girl in a plaid skirt and
a black t-shirt that said “Will work as Food”.

“Sorry,” He said stuck his hands in his pocket.

“No big deal,” she said. “I’ve done worse.”

He looked puzzled and she laughed. She was obviously drunk and Charles
couldn’t help but stare when he noticed the red drink in her hand.

“Excuse me, what kind of drink is that?”

“Blood, of course!” She had to shout to be heard over the din.

“Really!?”

“Yeah!” She laughed again. “You never had one? You must be new! Hey
missy!” She shouted to the blonde waitress. “Bring my friend here a
Blood!”

“Thanks!” He shouted over to her and they stood there in an awkward
silence. When the waitress returned, he gave her his card and took the
drink. He glanced at her and she smiled, waiting for his reaction.

He couldn’t contain his excitement. He wiped off the rim of the glass and
took a big swig. He almost gagged and spit the mouthful back into the
glass.

“What’s wrong,” she asked.

“What’s in this?” The waitress came back and brought back his card. He
handed her the glass and waved off her concerned look as he signed the
receipt. When she was gone, he turned back to the girl.

“It’s just Vodka, V8 juice, Worcestershire sauce, Pepper sauce, Lime, and
Olive juice. It would be a Bloody Biker, but the house adds some merlot
for color. Don’t you like it?”

“I thought it was blood!”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“This is a vampire club.”

“Hey, this isn’t the real thing. You can only do those types of things in
private. They don’t advertise. I wish, though. I’d be all over that.”

“Are you a vampire?” Charles let himself get his hopes up.

“That’s another I wish!” She smiled and looked a little sad.

“This is the fifth place like this I’ve been to in the last ten years.
Ever since I read Anne Rice, I’ve hoped I would actually meet a real one.
Some pipe dream, huh? Nah, I have to settle for posers in clubs like
this.” She smiled and sipped her drink.

“What would you do if you met one?”

“I’d ask to be bitten!” He grin got bigger and her hips started swaying to
the music.

“Really?”

“Sure!”

“I’m a vampire.”

“What?” She hadn’t heard him as he had tried to keep his voice down.

“I’m a vampire.”

“What?”

“I’M A VAMPIRE!!!!” This time his voice had carried so that a number of
the dancers around them had heard him. One long haired blonde raised his
glass in a toast.

“Aren’t we all!” He shouted to the crowd and there were cheers and
acknowledgements from all around.

The girl in the skirt roller her eyes and grabbed Charles by the sleeve
and didn’t see his protests as she led him into the hallway where the
restrooms were located. It was even darker in there than on the dance
floor and Charles was bumped numerous times.

“Don’t pay attention to Bobby. He’s kind of full of himself.”

“WHO’S BOBBY??”

“You don’t have to shout. I can hear you just fine. He’s the jerk on the
floor. You’re lucky you didn’t run into him by yourself. If you don’t
pretend you want to be him, he’ll make your life miserable.” She took
another sip of her ‘Blood.’ Charles choked back the bile that rose in his
throat.

“You sound like you know him pretty well.”

“I do” she said. And she left it at that. Charles had a pretty good idea
how well she knew him.

“Say, when you said you were a vampire, you didn’t act like you were
kidding.”

“I wasn’t.”

“So you really thought this was blood?” She pointed to the glass in her
hand.

“I was hoping.”

“So you actually drink the stuff?”

“Yeah, but just animal. I was kind of hoping to get the real thing here.”

“You do know there’s no such things as real vampires, right?”

“Uh, sure.” Charles paused and looked at the floor self consciously. When
he looked back up, the girl was staring out at the dancers and kept on
moving to the beat.

“So,” he said, “if you don’t believe in vampires, why are you here?”

“Hey, I know there are some people that… drink blood,” she gestured
towards him. “It’s kinky, I get that, but this place, is for the
atmosphere. It’s fun to pretend. Like you! You like to pretend you’re
the real thing. I like to pretend that someday I’ll meet the real thing.”
She laughed and put her hand on his arm. He concentrated on not pulling
away. “May be I’ve already met one!”

“Ha-ha” he laughed not too convincingly.

“You wanna bite me?” She flipped her black hair over her shoulder.

“Do you mean it?”

“Sure, why not? I’m up for something new!”

“Here?”

“No! What are you crazy? How about your place?”

He looked around thinking that one of the others might have heard her. All
sorts of images ran through his mind. What if he started drinking and
couldn’t stop? How many people did she know here? He didn’t want to kill
her, but what if there was an accident?

He didn’t get to think about it much longer. She was already heading
towards the entrance. He had to dodge a few people to catch up with her.
Once they were in the parking lot, she stopped to let him catch up.

“Which one’s yours?” She asked.

“The Volvo in the back.”

“The Volvo, huh? Living on the wild side.” She started ahead of him again
and talked back over her shoulder. “I’m Brenda, by the way.”

“Charles.”

“How far away are you, Chuck?” He rolled his eyes and dug out the keys to
the car.

Chapter 5

“Can you just tilt your head a little to the side?” He asked, fanning his hand in her face.

“I am. Are you going to do this or are you going to keep stalling?” she came back, her midnight hair brushing right where he was aiming.

“You’re hair’s in the way.”

“So move it!” She grumped. Her side hurt and her neck wasn’t feeling too much better.

“Can you just wait for a moment?” He stood up and went in to the only bathroom in the small apartment. She straightened back up and rolled her head from side to side. Brenda had thought this was going to be cool, but this guy was turning out to be a drag. She heard him messing around in the cabinet. She was starting to get a headache.

He came back into the room, holding a small folded cloth.

“What’s that for? She asked, her eyes pointing in the little square’s direction.

“You have something on your neck.” He handed her the wipe and she started rubbing at the intended spot, exhaling impatiently. He reached up and pointed to it again.

“Have I got it?” she asked, still wiping away. “What is it?”

“Your hair. Let me do it.” She handed him the wipe and barely noticed the cringe. He held his hands up to her face and signaled for her to tilt her neck again. He used the cloth to first wipe down the locks of hair and then to move them from her neck. Once her neck was thoroughly soaked, he placed the wipe in the basket behind him. She straightened back up.

He looked at her and threw his hands up in the air. “Your hair!”

“What about it?!” She screamed.

“It’s on your neck!!”

“Forget this! This is not worth it. I’m leaving!” She got up from the couch and stormed to the door. He crossed in front of her blocking it.

“No! Please don’t go. It’s ok. Your hair’s ok. Please, just sit down. Please?” He brought his hands up in a prayer and did his best puppy dog look. She glared at him; her arms crossed and then went back to the couch. She tilted her head and waited.

He was hesitant again, but finally lowered his face to her neck. He put his lips on her jugular and she tensed. Ten seconds passed, and then twenty.

“What are you waiting for?” She sat there with him just sitting there.

“I’m not sure how to do this.” He said his breath and the vibration tickling the nape of her neck.

“Just bite me!” She yelled.



She fell asleep. He was half way full when she began to start snoring and her body started to pull away from him. He had to rush into the bathroom for a washcloth. He soaked it with cold water and went back to wipe the blood from her neck.

After he had put a band aid on her to stop the bleeding, he sanitized himself and sat down in his easy chair. He watched her body move up and down to the rhythm of her breathing. She moaned and shivered. He got her a blanket and covered her up.

He hesitated to turn on the TV. He didn’t want to wake her up. He had never had a woman in his apartment and didn’t know how she would react when she woke up. Waking up. Now there was a problem. It was four in the morning and soon the sun would be rising.

He would leave her a note. That would be good. That would be enough. He located the pad and pen and began:

Dear Brenda,

Sorry I am not able to see you out. Please let yourself out when you wake up.

Sincerely,
Charles

It was shallow and it was short. What else was he supposed to do? He switched off the light and went in to the bedroom. He shut the door and got undressed for bed. With a full stomach, he laid down and fell into a deep, restful sleep.


Brenda gradually pulled herself out of the coma she found herself in. She didn’t have to look at the clock for her to know it was about ten in the morning. The crick in her neck told her she’d been out of it for about six hours.

She put her hand in the crook to work it out and was surprised to find it was so tender, she gasped. Her eyes flew open to the neat little room she had passed out in.

“Chuck,” she whispered.

She sat straight up and cursed when she pulled her neck too far to the right. She sat there for a moment rubbing her neck. She stopped when she rubbed off the small scabs that had formed there. She looked at her hand and found drying streaks of blood on it.

She stumbled to the small bathroom and looked din the mirror. She was a mess. She had couch hair and blood all over her. She washed off and wetted her hair to make it easier to straighten.

“Charles!” She yelled still looking at herself in the mirror.

When she didn’t get a response, she went back out into the living room. She folded the blanket and found the note Charles had left for her. She humphed once she read it and crumpled it up.

She went in to the kitchen. She was disappointed when all she found in the fridge was old tofu and V8. Nothing for her, but may be Chucky might like some thing to drink.

“Wakey, wakey, lazy butt!” She carried the glass down the hall towards the only closed door. The room was a tomb. It was dark and there wasn’t a stir from the man in the bed.

She put the glass on the end table, ignoring the coasters and started shaking him.

“Charles, it’s after ten! Get up! Come on. Thanks for letting me crash, let’s go out to Denny’s. I’ll pay.” Nothing. Not a stir. She put her hand in front of his mouth and nose and couldn’t feel and air. She started freaking out.

What if he was dead and now she had spent the night on the couch of a dead man. Why was this room so dark? She wasn’t sure she could find his wrist to take his pulse. She opened the hallway door wider and saw the blanked stapled up over the window.

This was getting ridiculous. She ran over to the corner of the window and pulled the blanket away from it, taking some of the aluminum foil with it. It was bright outside and the light flooded the room. Then, all hell broke loose.

“AAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” She turned to see Charles sitting up in his bed with his hand over his eyes. He leaped from it pulling his covers over him like a cloak and ran to the window. She watched as he tried to cover the window back up bet kept pulling his fingers away like he had touched a hot pan of fudge.

“Why?!! Are you trying to kill me?!! She couldn’t get a word in edgewise and just stepped out of his way. Finally he gave up and ran out of the room. She followed him and got to the living room as he was slamming the closet door behind him.

“Charles? What’s wrong, sorry I woke you up! I…” She stopped and it dawned on her what had just happened.

“Ok, you’re carrying this vampire thing too far. I know you think it’s cool to drink blood and all, but you can’t sleep all day and act that way around people. I mean, I know how it is, but other people are going to think you’re crazy Charles. Charles? “ There was no response from the other side of the closet door. She did hear a small motor sound though.

She leaned up against the door, close to the crack. “Charles, are you ok?” She whispered. “Charles?”

She gently opened the door and looked in. She opened it wider to see Charles wrapped in his blankets and snoring. She stood there disbelieving and shut the door.


Chapter 6

Charles woke up to a stiff neck and a sleeping right foot. His burns from the sun were already healed and he pulled himself up by the door handle. His apartment was empty and he felt bad for yelling at the girl.

This thought made him feel lonely. If he hadn’t yelled, she might have come back. What would he eat now? He decided to see his mother. That at least would help with the loneliness problem.

He dressed and headed towards the door. He flipped the light switch his usual five times and left. When he hit the street, he heard the sound of foot steps running up behind him and a familiar voice. He turned to see Brenda running to catch up with him.

“Chuck! Chuck!” He became embarrassed even though he couldn’t see anyone and rolled his eyes towards the heavens. He forgot his loneliness and snapped at her.

“Stop that!”

“Stop what?”

“Calling me that! My name is not Chucky!”

“Sorry Charlie.” She snickered a little at that one.

“Ugh! Why are you following me?”

“I wanted to see if you were ok.”

“Ok? You tried to kill me!”

“Kill you? How…oh, the sun thing… right. Listen, I think you may be taking this vampire thing a little too seriously.” Brenda gasped trying to pull in enough air. She was having trouble keeping up with his long strides.

She almost ran into him when he stopped mid-stride.

“Too seriously!” he yelled down at her. He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. “I told you I was a vampire.”

“So did half the men in the club last night.”

“ You let me bite you.”

“And you’re the first. You were nice and seemed shy. You should feel good.. I wouldn’t just let anyone bite me.”

“But I’m a vampire.”

“Whatever. Listen, role-playing in fun once in a while, but that thing you did this morning scared me to death.” The corners of her mouth turned up a little.

“But I’m not pretending. You burned me. I’m vampire.”

“Whatever you say.”

Charles threw his hands up in the air.

“Forget it. Just leave me alone.” He turned his back to her and left her standing in the middle of the street.

“He was out of sorts when he got to the house, but his mother was her usual loving self. He decided not to tell her of his adventure.

“Did you go to the club thing?”

“Yes, mom.”

“Well?”

“Nothing. It’s all just pretend.”

“Oh.” She told him about the fresh pig’s blood in the fridge and say down on the couch. It was when Pat Sajack told the contestant to give it the first spin of the evening, she got a knock on her front door.

A strangely dressed girl wearing black lipstick stood there with a big grin on her face. She returned the girls smile. The girl didn’t wait to be invited in. She stood just inside the living room with her hand held out in front of her.

“Hi. Brenda,” she said as they shook hands.

“Caroline Anderson.” Caroline smiled at the girl. She watched her for a moment and Brenda’s eyes began scanning the room and her head swiveled to get a good look at the pictures on the wall.

“You have a lovely home Ms. Anderson.”

“You can call me Caroline.” She waited for Brenda to say something else, but the girl just stood looking expectant.

“May I help you?” Brenda looked back at her in surprise.

“Oh yeah. I’m a friend of Charles. I saw he came in here. Are you his mom?”

“Yes I am. Did you say you were a friend of Charles? I think I’m going to have to clean out my ears.”

“Sure. We met at the club last night. I…”

“What are you doing here?” Charles stood in the doorway holding half a glass of something that made Brenda’s stomach drop.

“I was just…” she tried to respond.

“Charles, don’t be rude. Your friend here…”

“She is not my friend!”

“I am too! How many people to you know would let you bite them?”

“Is this true Charles? This nice girl let you bite her?”

“Yes, but she tried to kill me!”

“I did not!”

“Charles, go finish your dinner.”

“But…”

“No buts, and for heaven’s sake, wipe your mouth. It looks like you have a blood moustache!”

Chagrined, Charles turned and headed back in to the kitchen.

“Now…Brenda?” The girl shook her head in confirmation. “Why don’t you have a seat? Can I get you something to drink?”

“Water please.’

Caroline got the water an ignored the dirty looks from her son at the table. She gave Brenda the water. “Thank you.” And she smiled up at her.

Caroline sat down across from her. “I ‘m sorry Charles was so rude. He’s not very good with girls.”

“It’s ok. I know he wasn’t expecting me here.”

“So why is my son so upset with you?”

Even with all the pale face makeup, Brenda’s blush managed to come through. She put the glass down and told Caroline of how she met Chuck and how she had woken up in his apartment. After she finished telling her about the closet incident, she ended by saying she had followed Charles up to his mom’s house.

Caroline sat quietly through Brenda’s side of the tale. She wouldn’t have to ask Charles for his version. She could very well imagine the club and his reaction to it and how being thrown in to the sunlight would cause the reaction she now heard about from this girl.

“No wonder my son’s mad at you.”

“What do you mean. I didn’t do anything to make him so upset.”

“You opened his curtain. You do know about vampires don’t you. They can’t live in the sunlight.”

“You don’t honestly believe that he’s a vampire.”

“He drinks blood, can’t stand the sunlight. And you’ve seen his teeth, right?”

“Caroline, there were a hundred people or more in the club last night who would say the same thing. It’s thing, you know. Charles just seems to take it to the extreme.”

“Brenda, that’s just Charles. He’s never been diagnosed, but I believe he has O.C.D.”

“Really? Obsessive Compulsive, huh? Don’t you think that’s the answer?”

“What’s the answer?”

“The vampire thing is just something else he’s latched on to. What else is hyper about?”

“Cleanliness, he doesn’t like to touch people…”

“I saw both of those last night.”

Caroline’s eyebrows went up like the St. Louis Arch at that comment. She didn’t ask. She didn’t need to. She imagined Charles had had this girl sterilized before he would even touch her.

“ So what you’re saying is you think this has something to do with the OCD?”

“Sure, why not? For some reason he thinks he was bitten or something and now he thinks he’s a vampire.”

“Surely not. Charles would just start drinking blood because of…”

“Why not, no one just cleans their hands for no reason. No one turns their lights off and on for no reason. I saw that one from the street by the way. He’s latched on to it. People I’ve hung out with drink animal’s blood and have night jobs and avoid garlic.”

“But did you see his teeth, Brenda?”

“Sure, he’s gone to the extremes, but I once saw a show on tv where this guy thought he was some tiger god incarnate. To become more like he thought he should be, he had his teeth files and tattoos that looked like stripes, and get this, he’s saving up for plastic sugery to have his nose shaped like a cat’s. Freaky huh?”

“Charles hasn’t gone to the dentist, he tells me everything.”

“May be not, but may be he files them himself. He doesn’t seem like the guy who likes people a lot.”

“People he likes, human companionship not so much. Oh, you really think so?” Caroline’s words ended in a whisper and she sucked in air as she wiped the corner’s of her eyes.

“I really do.” Brenda smiled at the older woman. This woman really loved her son and sure seemed willing to put up with a lot.

“What am I going to do? I can’t get him to go to a psychiatrist. He knows he’s OCD and he never seems to care enough to do anything about it.”

Brenda looked at her a moment. Her eyes glazed over and then she stood up suddenly. She came over and kneeled in front of Caroline. She took her hands in hers and smiled.

“Caroline…I will make it my personal responsibility to make sure that Charles stops believing he is a vampire.”

“How do you plan on doing that?”

“I don’t know yet. But I’ll let you know when I do.”

Brenda stood up and said goodbye to Caroline.

“Good. She’s gone.” Charles came into the living room a few minutes later and sat down on the couch to watch Jeopardy with his mom. She didn’t mention Brenda to him for the rest of the night.


Chapter 7

Two nights later there was a knock at Charles’ door. He made whoever it was wait while he finished his paragraph.