“I look at my prey, I hate what I am. I hate this need to hunt; but I am afraid of death. That is why I am in this situation to begin with… that fear of death… I stand here writing in my ancient diary while I contemplate drain the woman who is sitting alone in the corner…I HATE MYSELF!”
Drake put his journal in his desk and turned the key, locking it away. He looked at the mess of people. He had a party each week; a part of him, that he hated, needed them. He had tried to go without. He had tried so many times. So many times it would drive him mad and he would satisfy this thirst in the most horrific of ways.
He is grateful for his roommates. Cameron, Frank and Lucas all understand the curse he lives with; the death he must inflict so he could live. He is happy he found them many centuries ago. With this new world they knew they had to blend in, so they decided to mainstream and go to college. So many careers demanded the paper over experience. Maybe next time he could be one of the business owners. They were what the dean had called freshmen.
He is far from a fresh man… he died over five hundred years ago, but afraid of death he took a deal to grant him immortality. He has been called many things; in fact, he is the basis of that silly little book Dracula.
He knew Bram Stoker; a crazy little man who was obsessed with the beings that went bump into the night. Ever since Drake had tried to drain him, that was until he tasted his blood; they had tainted it with holy water; sadly, the little insane man thought it worked against vampires. In a way, he was right; it only worked because he believed it would. Holy objects only work if the person believes it does. He was only evil in the fact he needed fresh flowing blood to live.
After all, in the blood is the very essence of the soul. Blood is life, it is why most ‘monsters’ crave it. Blood is life. And without life, there is death. He hated that part of this curse. He didn’t really think when he was offered the escape from death. After all, his fear back then was not living up to his family name. Dying before he could prove himself as a Dracula! He should have taken time to think; but he was dying, and he became a killer who shattered the lives of not only his victims, but of their entire families.
Cameron is the one that suggested coming to the new world. So they took the chance. It was a chance to start over somewhere new. There were many places in Europe where they were still hunted. They bought a house, bought some fake documents and signed up for college. Good Lord, what they would do without their contacts they didn’t know, and Bo was one of the best at getting the fakes with Sebastian. After all, what could it hurt to come to a new world? To live some place different for once. Besides their victims…
Sadly, they cannot escape their curses. Some may be have clauses in their curses but he has never meet one to escape their curses. Nobody had ever escaped. Nobody ever would. They can be changed, they can be amended, but they would all remain forever cursed.
Drake sighed and walked- well glided- over to his prey. He watched in her eyes as he flashed an award winning smile and sat down next to her. “Hello, my dear. I am Drake.” Drake knew nobody was immune to his charms, his thrall. After all, Old Man Abe had something right about vampires. Thrall, blood draining, hell he even had the brides correct, but he never kept them for long. He sent them out on their own after he had his fill. After all, after a while the Thrall would wear off and well new vampires who weren’t controlled were never fun to deal with; and he for sure didn’t have the patience. Which is why since Old Man Abe killed his last three he never made any more, he didn’t have the patience to deal with them. Only his true brides would be forever loyal. He flashed his smile and started his thrall toward his prey.
“Hi…” She started and blushed. The blood to her face made Drake’s desire for her blood stronger. “I am Sam.” She was a shy, timid woman.
“Nice to meet you, Sam.” Drake took her hand in his, and held it there. “Would you like a tour of the house? Maybe a drink?” Drake pulled her up with him.
“That would be great.” She said and got up to go with him; she seemed to bask in his attention.
Drake kept her hand and grabbed a potent drink from Lucas along the way. “Well, let’s start down stairs…” Drake started and led the shy young Sam to his room. There was a reason he chose this type of woman. Shy, timid, not many friends, far from home, would be a few days before she was noticed missing. She was the perfect prey.
“Oh, your room is in the basement…” Sam said in shock when they walked into his windowless room.
“Oh, yes, this is my room.” Drake came up behind her. “Do you like it?” Drake asked as he pushed her hair away from her neck. He bent and kissed her neck before she could respond. He touched the tip of his tongue to her neck and heard her gasp for breath.
Sam was torn between fear and desire. She had come to this party on her friend’s suggestion, and then her friend had left her when she went to dance with her newest boyfriend. “I…”
Drake turned her around and kissed her; and pushed her toward his bed. He felt as she fell back onto the bed and he climbed in with her. “I hope you do…” Drake laid down almost on top of her and planted a string of kisses along her neck.
“Drake…” Sam struggled for thought, but she knew she didn’t want this. “Stop.”
“No…” Drake said, and he felt his fangs extend. He struggled against the monster within himself. He tried to push himself away from her, but he was too weak… he had gone too long without the flowing blood of life.
“NO!” Sam struggled to get free. She screamed and hoped that someone heard her; never knowing the rooms in the house were built to be sound proof for many different reasons. Then she went silent when she felt the pain in her neck.
Drake bit her. He hit the sweet spot where the blood flowed quickly and freely and he started to drain her. She went silent with the first bite, but she continued to struggle.
Sam tried to get away, but she started to get weaker and weaker. Soon she could not move… and she felt cold.
Drake knew when she gave up. He knew the moment she accepted her death, and a tear escaped his eye as he completely drained her. Once the last drop was gone, he rolled to the side, and exhausted from his gluttony of blood, passed out.
Drake awoke the next day and looked at the body beside him. Sam’s eyes staring into space; clouded over with death. He sighed and picked up the phone.
On the fourth ring it picked up. “Tony’s Cement Shoes. You Kill ‘Em, We Sink ‘Em.”
Drake sighed, but only those who Tony trusted would have the number, anyway. “Is Tony in?” Drake asked.
“Drake, my man! Tony is on his way to your house. He knows when you have a ‘party’.” The person on the other line stated.
Drake could almost see the quotation marks that he was sure Tony’s clerk, and nephew, had made. “Bleu, very funny. Tell your uncle to charge the account.” Drake hung up the phone. He looked at the body for a moment, shook his head and wrapped it in the white sheet; just a few spots of blood on it. Drake took one last look at the scene and then at the time. He picked up his books and left for class. He pushed the body of the young woman, whose name had been Sam, out of his head; never to be thought of again… Or at least he told himself as he pushed her from his thoughts…
“I watch the monsters day in and day out. They never notice me the lowly human. But I watch them. I know them. I know their weaknesses, their strengths, their desires. They don’t think anybody could ever figure it out. Ha! One only has to watch and listen to see what is really going on. Nobody watches. And nobody pays attention to the dying girl. The girl that is quiet and mousey, the girl that doesn’t say two words unless she is in class or spoken too. No nobody notices the dying girl. And because of that, I can watch them. Study the monsters. And learn how to kill them. I don’t have the strength to kill them. To get rid of the evil that plagues this town. But I hope that some day that humanity won’t be lost to them. I hope that some day that someone will have the strength to take them down. But I watch. That is all I can do. Watch and record. And now I want to share this all with you. Share with you how I came to find out how things go bump in the night. And the stories of Monster University.”
Rachael sat and watched the new students. Rachael was a professional student. She chose this life because she was dying. She always knew she would die young. Terminal Genetic Conditions. She snorted. People ignored her. She was always quiet. Afraid of trying to find friends. Afraid of falling in love. Why do so when you are just going to leave them? Even her parents were distant after they diagnosed her at eight. Two years later, her very healthy baby brother and sister were born. They were the only ones she really cared about in life, anyway. She always sacrificed for her brother and sister. They were her life. She gave them everything that she refused to give anybody else. Because of that, most people thought she was lost in her head a lot. Her books, her stories, her writings and musings. That she refused to get a job, even with her many degrees. Cemented that she was a bit touched in the head. But really, she was watching. Observing. Writing what she saw. And as the new students moved in and the town got a new bar, a new restaurant, new businesses… okay, let’s be honest, not that strange. They were in a college town and people moved in and out all the time. Sometimes families moved to be with their kids; sometimes people moved to make a go of a business in a college town that would have many people for at least eight of the twelve months of the year. The bonus with this town is that it was very, very close to the larger towns in the state. And was considered a larger town in of itself. So even ‘seasonal’ businesses could make a go of things year round.
One day Rachael was helping with the registrations. And she noticed some strange behavior in a group of kids. Now it was a college campus, and strange and abnormal behavior was normal. But some of these kids were speaking as if they were misplaced out of time. They dressed as if they looked into a catalog and just picked clothing to mimic what the model was wearing.
So, Rachael did what Rachael did best and observed them. She watched them every day and eavesdropped in on their conversations. She wrote down everything. She listed everything. She discovered the truth not long after they all started. They never noticed her and talked around her. They were monsters! Vampires, werewolves, mummies, zombies, undead killers, they were all real! What could she do?
She knew she could never fight these monsters. Instead, she stayed in the shadows. She documented the monsters. She watched them day in and day out. She was dying, and they killed to live. It made her mad. It pissed her off. She watched them kill to live. She watched them kill for sport. She watched them laugh about it. She watched them live life when she would die.
She vowed somehow that people would know their stories. Their weaknesses and their powers and their rituals; so that one day people could rise and bring them down. She wrote these stories and hid them when she was finished.
She followed them. She got to know them. She probably knew them better than they knew each other. This went on for months. She would put the pieces together. And being a woman who was used to being in the shadows, she knew how to stay hidden.
One day Rachael had just finished documenting the last of the monsters in town. She found the rituals they had to perform. Their weaknesses. And their strengths. She wrote them as short stories. She left the bank to be surrounded by the very monsters she had been hunting. She had messed up just a few days before. She had known it too. She had gotten so angry that one of the women was so bored with life that she was just going through the motions. That she kept doing her rituals only so she wouldn’t have to pay the price of burning in hell.
Rachael yelled at her when she went to the bar to watch one of the last monsters. She had yelled that she wished that she could live. She wished that she had the opportunity that the soul sucking monster she was had; but she was dying. She messed up and quickly finished her documents. She had to. Her will stated to publish them. To publish them as fiction so that way people would read them. But those who were smart, those who could put the pieces together, that they would understand that they were after a while. And maybe one day hunt them down and destroy them all.
Now she stood surrounded by them. Taken into a back alley into the city. She swallowed. She took a deep breath. She closed her eyes, for she knew her time had come. She asked one thing. “Let my parents bury my body…” She whispered as her world went black.
“These are my words. My stories. Read them. Understand them. And watch for the monsters hidden within our society. If you are reading this. You know my story. A girl who died too young. Her genetic condition taking her quickly as she left her ultimate piece of work in a safe deposit box to finish. These are my last words. I know when I leave this bank I will die. Be aware of the surrounding people. You never know which may hide a monster within. And if you are brave enough, strong enough, powerful enough… Please finish what I wanted to start and destroy them all…”
I was reading through the draft as a friend reads through Katy Lily The Veil Lifts and The Keepers and found this scene.
Lysandra looked at an ex of hers. The ex, was one she could have seen it working with. But Lysandra had been so afraid to come and say she was equal opportunity with who she loved. Teenage Lysandra had some mother issues.
“Sandy, it has been a long time.” Tina smiled.
“It has. I see you and Rachel are doing well.”
“And you and what’s his name?”
“Brian. No. We are done. Always doomed to failure.”
“I am sorry I couldn’t be the one to hold you until you found the one the one that grounds you. But we couldn’t be the ones to waste time together. I wish I had been good enough. To be the one to ground. To be the one that could hold you to reality. I did love you. But I couldn’t be a dirty secret.”
“I was a fool. But we wouldn’t have lasted either way. Even if I did have a ring in my pocket for you. It was just, we hit a rough patch with dad’s heath and I wasn’t ready to risk disownment, at eighteen.”
“You bought a ring? At eighteen?”
“Yeah, stupid teenage love. I was going to ask you before dad’s heart attack. But then you gave me that ultimatum and I walked away. Right back to that dick named Brian.” Lysandra took another shot. “I am glad you are happy.”
“You will find the right person for you. I know it, Sands.”
“Maybe. Until then, sex and liquor are good enough.”
“Don’t lose yourself in your grief or your parents plans for you, Sands. Or you won’t found your way out of the darkness.”
Lysandra took another shot. “Tina, you always were the optimist.” She looked at the empty glass. Wondering if maybe some secrets to the universe were in it. “But I don’t need an Aziraphale to my Crowley. Because in the end it leaves me more broken than I was before. Because just like Aziraphale, that person will choose the hope of something better over me. And me? I will be left wondering if I can find secrets of the universe in a bottle or cheap tequila and in the back of someone’s car. I need someone to love me like Crowley loves Aziraphale, I need the Aziraphale that isn’t running to false hope.”
“Always the book analogies. And people saw you as the ditzy cheerleader.”
“Well, I did live up to some of those stereotypes.” Lysandra smirked.
“Go home. Sleep it off.”
“I could. Or I can go hit on on that gorgeous specimen of a human over there and try and feel something other than numbness.”
“Lysandra.”
“Tina.”
“I am calling you a cab.”
“Fine. Fine. I won’t hit on anybody in your bar.” Lysandra took the final shot. “Until next time, Tina.”
“Lysandra. Don’t keep running for people to hold you while you wait. Find your ineffable spouse. Because under it all, Aziraphale loves his Crowley.”
Lysandra gave a smile and left the bar, keys in hand.
Kris Charles - Author 