Yang Fang

                                                    Yang Fang
                                                          by
                                                    D Michaels


I met Yang Fang in China. The international company we worked for sent me there to help him move to America. He was to learn our manufacturing techniques then return to run the assembly plant in Beijing. The night before our flight, I decided to check on him to make sure he was ready for his first trip to the US. I knocked, but no answer. I heard a strange sound from inside so I slowly opened the door. That’s when I saw Yang committing a horrendous and gory act. It shook me to my very core. He- or whatever Yang had become- was so enthralled in the bloody act- that he didn't see me. I ran back to my hotel room terrified for my life. I kept the door locked and stayed awake all night. The horrible image was seared in my mind. Not wanting to be held in China for questioning- or worse- possible charges- I felt it best not to tell anyone. Besides, who would ever believe me? 

When I returned to New York I saw Yang Fang's signature on a Work Visa admission form on the counter at the US Customs gate. How he managed to board and leave the plane without me seeing- I didn't know. All I knew was- this seemingly harmless Chinaman- that was capable of a transformation so hideous- was now in the United States. 

Since returning to the US I've quit my job as an engineering consultant- finally giving up the mundane for meaning- and have tracked him from town to town all the way from New York. After almost a month I arrived in the small southern community of Old Hickory- and on a crisp fall day I saw Yang again- in all his sinister glory... 

"I'm sure he's made it this far south Sheriff. Listen to me- out there somewhere hiding in your town- is an evil and dangerous man. When I arrived this afternoon I drove around your neighborhoods. I swore I saw him in front of a white shingle house. 1038 Mount Pleasant I believe it was. Regardless- I'm not going to rest till I find him". 

I told Sheriff Bartlett that Yang Fang was wanted in China for murder- and I was an international bounty hunter commissioned by the Beijing government to bring him in. I doubt he would he have believed the truth? Who would believe?

“Yang has eluded law enforcement in two countries. He snuck into the US on a work visa, and is about to go on a killing spree that will make Jack the Ripper look like a barber. All I know is- if someone doesn't do something soon- it's going to be bad”, I said, making my final point.

"White shingle- 1038 Mount Pleasant. That's old man Rinerger's-  let's get over there", Bartlett replied. 

Mr. Rinerger had just taken his final sack of groceries inside and returned to close his car door when we pulled up.  "You think someone used their foot to try and force it open". Mr Rinerger asked las he led us to the back door of his house. "You reckon they ran off when I came home  just now from the Piggly Wiggly", he asked scratching his head of grey hair while looking at the door. 

The back storm door on Mr. Rineger's house had indeed been tampered with. There was a split in the white aluminum panel at the bottom of the door. Just above the split was a slight- almost indictable hump. Had it not been for the curved shadow it cast, Mr. Rinerger would have never noticed. 

We had to hurry; the sun was about to set, and the streetlights were already on. The Sheriff ran to the patrol car to get the fingerprint case and a flashlight. While I waited with Mr Rinerger, a strong single gust of north wind blew. Autumn leaves rained down, skipped across sidewalks, and scattered out through the lawns. A chill ran down my spine. I had an eerie sense Yang was near and I was scared. 

Sheriff Bartlett dusted the handle for prints while I held the flashlight. It was a heavy flashlight with a long handle- the kind seen on Cop TV- the kind used to beat the crap out of some poor idiot that doesn't know the meaning of 'get down". 

Unfortunately, there were no prints on the door handle, and Sheriff Bartlett just shook his head.  Mr. Rinerger must have sensed the Sheriff's frustration when he said, "I sometimes use the front door." 

"That's good, but it's not your prints we're looking for", the sheriff answered. 

Dropping to his knees, the Sheriff dusted the lower aluminum panel of the storm door, around the split, just below the hump. This time with results… 

"What kind of finger prints are those?" 

"They look like tiny circles, or dots." 

"Yea...there's hundred's of them- they're from an insect." I said.   

Sheriff Bartlett and I both knelt by the storm door. He began pulling at the tear in the aluminum as I held the flashlight. Mr. Rinerger stood behind us watching. I was trying to figure out what the sheriff's plan was when suddenly the aluminum panel broke loose. 

“Watch Out”, Mr. Rinerger shouted. 

"What the...", the sheriff blurted as he fell on his back- covering his face with both hands. 

By now it was fully dark. My eyes had trouble at first- while my mind struggled to understand what I was seeing. An owl I thought. It's a crazy owl. It fluttered wildly over the sheriff's head. I pointed the flashlight at the creature- and instantly it flew at me. Still on my knees, I could feel the wind on my face from its flapping wings. Over and over it bumped against the flashlight. The force caused me to loose my balance and fall backwards. On the ground, and on my back, I tried repeatedly to strike it, but missed. The crazy owl thing had no logical path of flight- up and down, back and forth, swooping and diving. What had I done? Why had it singled me out? It was as if insanity had wings- and was after me. 

"The light- it's after the light", Mr. Rinerger yelled. 

I threw the flashlight as hard as I could. My winged attacker took flight after it. The heavy black handle tumbled end over end. A beam of light flashed across the flying maniac's face, and for a second I could see its eyes. They were like two red hot coals. 

Craassshhh!!! 

The flashlight hit the storm door window. Shards of glass came flying out. The heavy light hit the ground with a thud and went dark. Mr Rinerger screamed and ran off into the shadows with the winged tormentor fluttering around his head. 

Through several backyards I ran looking for Mr. Rinerger until I heard whimpering.

''Please stop- pleeeaaaassse...", Mr Rinerger's voice was weak and quickly faded to silence. 

I saw his lifeless body, face down in the cold damp grass under a tree. Someone was kneeling over him. Black and grey shadows and little light made it difficult to see. What I thought was a person kneeling over poor Mr. Rinerger began to change its appearance. Thousands of tiny lines moved in and around it- a swarming scribble of chaos- spinning and swirling as if some invisible force was sketching something so hideous I could hardly bare to look. All at once the invisible scribbler was finished- and there was Yang Fang- just as he appeared the night in China. 

He- or "It" stood 6 feet tall like a man- but with a neck and head similar to a mantis- or wasp. Attached to the back of the creature’s dark body were large wings. Its firey red eyes illuminated a black tube that darted in and out of its mouth. Like a stinger, the tube pierced the back of Mr. Rinerger's neck and head over and over. Each time there was a grotesque crack followed by a slurping sound. It was sucking Mr Rinerger's blood from the base of his skull through its proboscis.   

POP! POP! POP! 

I let go 3 rounds from my 38. The creature spread its wings and in a shadowy movement appeared to shape shift into a more human form. With its wings spread- and with little effort Yang took flight into the dark fall sky. 

I was stunned- and struggled to take it all in. For the next hour my mind was in a fog... 

"Mister- did you see it..." 

It all happened so fast. When I saw the sheriff on the ground my first thought was he must have played sports- maybe a linebacker. He was in good shape for a man in his late fifties. Not a strain of grey in his jet black hair. His blue eyes were open, and his expression was that of someone that had heard a joke, but didn't understand the punch line. 

"Mister- did you..."   

The paramedics tried, but Sheriff and old man Rinerger had lost too much blood. It was crazy what happened. A long piece of glass from the storm door had severed Sheriff Bartlett's jugular vein. 

"Can you hear me..." 

The medical examiner said there's about one and a half gallons of blood in the human body and both Rinerger and Sheriff appeared to have bleed to death- Sheriff through his jugular- and Rinerger's loss of blood was compounded by repeated puncture wounds to the base of his skull. 

"Mister- please..." 

I told the Sheriff's deputy that I was a bounty hunter hired by the China government to capture Yang. What else could I have told him- who would possibly ever be... 

"Mister...tell me what was it..."     

I looked off into the direction Yang had flown- the fog was starting to clear from my mind. What kind of beast was loose in this country? What can change from man to large owl sized insect and finally to a blood sucking monster so hideous hell has no place for it? What manner of creature is Yang Fang? 

Looking down at the young boy who was no more than 11 or 12, I asked, "Son- did you see it". 

"Yes sir- I saw- but I don't know what I saw..it was- it was- horrible..." 

Standing there- looking into the dark fall sky the terrifying realization that Yang would appear again ripped through me and shook me to the core. This time though- my sanity stood its ground. I was not the only one that had seen and lived. I felt comfort in knowing I was not alone. 

I placed my hand on the shoulder of the young boy that had apparently witnessed from across the street and answered the best I could, "That was Yang Fang... a Chinese Vampire."