The Nursery Rhyme

The Nursery Rhyme

By J.H. Knight

As I sit here pondering my eternity, I wonder how I ended up in this place, such a place surely is reserved only for the most foul of all creatures. Such a criteria certainly applies to me I would think as I reminisce of my life, but all evil I’ve ever done was to survive, how I could be punished like this is not fair. Condemned I am to starve and burn at the sunset of every day. Now the only solace that I find in this place which is eternal hell, is a pen and a journal labeled sins. Such atrocities are not something that I want to write about, but forces beyond my power compel me to begin writing after my damned body regenerates after last mornings complete incineration. Now in a place such as this I find it ironic that my punishment is the very thing I find solace within. I think to myself that it was incompetence that led to my death and that surely is a major part, but in most part my undoing came at the hands of a simple nursery rhyme. Now that my hand has come back from the ashes I will start writing in this dreadful journal. What should I detail today? I know, I think the eventual readers of this woe begotten journal shall fancy a tale of how I died to a dreadful.

The ghostly being which haunted me was indeed a surprise, but her face was not one I was unfamiliar with; yes, oh yes I knew this foul demon girl. She was a girl in the early years of adolescence beaming with life when she died. As I begin to reflect I recall she was merely a victim of chance in a moment of weakness when the thirst told hold. It was a hot southern night in Charleston and as the daylight died and gave birth to the moon, I was in the grips of intense blood lust as I stalked my prey anticipating the perfect moment to strike. I was not violent by nature or even a killer mind you, but I was a new creature who had not yet found a way of controlling the monster inside and the smell of blood was ripe in air. On the hunt for my first victim of the night, I had not chosen whom I would feast on until I stumble upon a plump little girl practicing a nursery rhyme under a dull orange street light. Now I did not fancy the blood of little girls, but one caught my ear, not my eye! But my ear! As she sung a most terrify nursery rhyme.

Now one might say why I would call such an innocent melody terrible and I shall explain! See I had been a victim of childhood negligence at the hands of my trusted mother who would always sing in the most beautiful voice this certain nursery rhyme.

“Pat-a-cake, Pat-a-cake, Baker man”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can” as she would abuse me over and over again.

However my mother in her older age was inflicted by disease and her mind became that of a simpleton so I could not bear a grudge against her; instead I developed a rage for that foul song she repeated as she beat me. Even as she lay dying on her death bed she repeated that horrible song, even as I became the one of the immortals, that rhyme repeated in my head over and over again inflicting my soul with dread.

“Patty Cake, Patty Cake, Bakers Man.”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can”

So it is out of this that I have developed an unspeakable rage towards the words of that song and in the moments when she uttered those words that little girl sealed her fate.

“Pat-a-Cake, Pat-a-Cake, Baker Man” she said as her hands connected with an invisible those of an invisible friend.

“Come inside” calls a man from a brightly lit screen door a drive way away.

“In a minute” She yells continuing her giggle as she continued perfecting her rhyme.

My blood already hot from the anticipation of the imminent feast came to a boil as she repeated that insidious song. She began leave and skipped up the street. The thoughts of her pending doom gave little comfort to my heart as this foul girls words re-opened it wounds.

“Patty Cake, Patty Cake, Bakers Man”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can”

As she made her way down the driveway to the door; I sprang several feet into the air directly in front of her, she let out a most terrible shriek and I grasp her neck with both my hands and bought an end to her screams. The kill was quick, in no more than 3 seconds her plump little body went limp. He father quickly burst out the door shotgun in hand but what awaited him was fear and terror when he saw my dreadful demonic face, he scrambled backwards in shock dropping the gun which went off with a most loud bang, and with the danger now gone I made my escape with great speed, the little girl lifeless body in tow.

“Come back! Come Back!” screamed the father.

“Give her back to me!”

Now you might think of me as something no better than a savage, but I assure I am not a killer for sport, only for survival I tell you. Yes her blood was sweet, but I prolonged the act no longer than I needed and I gave her a proper burial down by the sea. I even spared her my curse by removing the heart, now I ask you would a savage do such a thing? I think not! Now why not kill the father you may ask? The thought of returning and dispatching the man was not lost on me I assure you; however a man who says that a vampire kidnapped his daughter surely would land in the nut house so I left the man be.

Now continuing with the story; many years had gone by in my life since that night and I have seen many places, killed many people and met many vampires, but I decided to return home to good Charleston after 25 years over the seas, oddly enough I was home sick and Charleston was a place I remembered but only vaguely as the last 25 years I’d spent engorged in the blood of countless people from all over the world, hell the memories of even 5 years ago were hard to conjure. It was my second night out on the town and I recently fed on a group of social rejects congregating in the park which would serve as my meal for the night, however their blood was none too pleasing, no doubt because it was tainted by a host of drugs and narcotics so my thirst was not satisfied. As I readied for my next hunt I heard a tune echo softly in the background.

“Pat-a-Cake, Pat-a-Cake, Baker man”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can”

I thought to myself could it be? Although it had been many years since I heard that tune, the rage it induced inside me was still ripe and alive. I could only look around at the dead bodies thinking perhaps that one was still alive and had peered into my soul as I ripped into their neck using this awful tune to curse me. But as I checked they were all very dead their heads ripped and hearts removed alike. The park was void of any life as it was just me and the bodies, then the song comes again echoing louder this time.

“Pat-a-Cake, Pat-a-Cake, Baker man”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can”

Still there was nothing to be found. Angrier I grew as the dammed song continued to echo, perhaps I was suffering hallucinations from the drug tainted blood I thought to myself.

Suddenly she appeared, a chubby little girl. She repeats!

“Pat-a-cake, Pat-a-cake, Baker man”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can” she said

Then the realization dawned upon me to who this ghostly figure was. Seemingly on cue with my mind, her face transformed into something of the devil, eyes so dark and void of light, that only evil lurked behind them.

I had seem many evil things throughout my years roaming this earth as an creature of darkness, but this was something not of the realm of earth, but from the depths of hell! I could see my future in the glassy gloss of those black eyes, a near future in which I would burn and wither away under the hot sun. This is where I completely lost it as I shouted.

“Foul demon, leave me!”

As she moved closer I could see my sure destruction ever so clear in those glossy black eyes.

“My god” I shouted as I scrambled with panic at the sight of her demonic form moving closer chanting that horrible rhyme.

“Patty Cake, Patty Cake, Bakers Man”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can”

I stumbled in my escape and fell onto the empty street; it was the dead of night not many people around and those who were about paid no mind as they were surely headed to a drug induced sleep. As I fled I could hear the words of the dreadful song getting closer.

“Patty Cake, Patty Cake, Bakers Man”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can”

The demon was getting closer and closer, the horrible lyrics of that song beating in the back of my head like a hammer. I had never felt such terror in my life. I stumbled from door to door for blocks it seemed as I could not find one place of solace as she steadily stayed in pursuit chanting that dreadful nursery rhyme. I fancied it a gift from the gods when I found an open bar which I surely took haven inside of. For the entirety of the night I watched the door awaiting her entrance, but hours passed and no demons walked through the door only patrons, perhaps I had lost her I thought to myself, the song no longer rang in my head and I thought myself safe. As the morning hour drew near and I was the only one left at the bar a feeling of triumph rose as I have lost this demon girl. Lost in my terror was my hunger and I knew if I did not eat before the sun rises I would go the day sleeping and famished. The night was dying so I had to find someone fast and to my luck there was an older gentleman manning the bar with not one other soul around. He was not my ideal choice, but he would have to do for now.

“Last call buddy” He exclaimed to me!

The man was a small stature with not much left to his bones. Unfortunate one he is I thought to myself as I almost felt guilty for that suffering I would soon inflict upon him, but my heart would have no invasion of sympathy as I moved closer to the bar. I shall make small talk with him to lower his guard then I will strike his neck and drain his artery raw.

“Whiskey on the rocks” I said to him as I took a seat at the bar.

He was a retired cop I deduced from the plaques hanging above the bar.

“So you were an officer of the law” I asked as he poured.

“Yes I was! 25 years strong.”

“Decided to retire and open up a bar huh.” I said.

“No wasn’t quite that simple.”

“Oh, well tell me good sir what makes a man quit a solid job and resign to serving drinks” I asked

The old man chuckles at the sarcasm of my question.

“Well you wouldn’t believe me if I told you” He said.

“No? I have seen man things in this world sir so believe me I’m a pro in things you normal people won’t understand.”

“Not what I would tell you!” he exclaimed with a despondent look about his face.

“Try me”

The old man then poured himself a drink and spoke.

“Well about 25 years ago my daughter was kidnapped and murdered by a man.”

My face tensed up as the weight of what he told settled in.

“My god” I shrieked

“Did they not catch this scourge that would destroy innocent life?” I asked

“There was no way possible” the old man claimed.

“What man could be immune to punishment for such a crime?”

“Ah, but he wasn’t a man, but a vampire” the old man said. “My superiors though me Looney and took my badge”

The shock of what he said almost made me spill my whiskey.

“Oh” I said as I suspiciously gazed upon.

“hahaha” he whooped “That’s right, I told you wouldn’t believe me!” he said as he laughed

“It’s okay my friend you can laugh!” he finished his drink and turned his back to wash the remainder of his glasses.

“Are you almost done partner?” he said

“Why yes” I said

The shock was still vibrating throughout my bones as I continued to process what the old man said. How could he know of our existence I thought to myself? Perhaps he saw the vampire that killed his daughter I thought to myself, or maybe he was lying a stupid bar story to regeal drunken patrons, but I can tell by his voice that he wasn’t lying about this story. I began to think why one of my kind would do such a thing. It is rather sloppy to kill and leave witnesses and even more cowardly to kill a child a true vampire hunts prey whom can put up a fight. I felt bad for the old man that he saw his girl meet her end to one of my kind.

Whoever this immortal is will surely be forsaken if ever found by me, oh yes he will I thought to myself! But in the meantime I would fix this mistake. So it was as I finished my last drink whiskey that I leap the bar my fangs reared ready to take his life, but it was not to be as I received a blast from a shotgun to the chest clearing me clear across the bar. However it was not normal buckshot that I was stuck with, but wooden chips doused in garlic that hit me. As the pain rushed to my brain and my blood burned in my veins crippling my body. It was here that I knew my death was certain.

“I got him” the old man yelled histerically.

“All for you! My beloved Missy Lee.”

As I lay dying on the floor, the demon girl manifest next to the old man and they embrace. It was then that I realized I was the victim of a most clever trap. I realize that this vampire who would be so incompetent; he and I were one in same. I laugh now in hindsight as I deduced that I should have known this plot from the moment I laid eyes on the old man as he had those same glassy eyes as his dreadful daughter. But I guess it’s only fitting that my life would end with he and his demon standing triumphantly over me.

And as the sun raised the old man locked up the bar and prepared a cold steel table for my body, and in all its gore and misery the old man sobbed loudly as he spent the entire morning dismembering my body as his little girl stared into my cold lifeless eyes practiced her nursery rhyme.

“Pat-a-cake, Pat-a-cake, Bakers Man”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can.”