"Drake"A Story by Cody Williams“Drake” By Cody Williams
1. They thought he’d never come back. They were curtain of that. He was run out Transylvania when people found out whom he was. When people found out how many people he killed, the town’s people lit their torches and busted into his house to run him off. That was back in 1855.They thought he was gone for good. But boy were they wrong. Boy, oh boy were they wrong. My name is Darrel Wallace. You may know me from the countless novels of terror I have written over my career. Coco and Lost in the Woods are just two of many of my best sellers. But this is no fiction tale. Not at all. I first came to Chester’s Pike, Tennessee to work on a new novel. My grandfather passed away earlier in the year left me his vacation cabin in Chester’s Pike that he liked to call “Cloud Nine”. I loaded up the car, my Volkswagen gothic and drove up here to spend the summer from my winter home in Daytona Beach, Florida. I didn’t know much about the area to tell you the truth. When I first arrived, I pulled into the gravel driveway and got out of the car only to be greeted by Norman Richards, my neighbor for the summer. “Nice car you got here sonny!” The old man’s trembling voice said to me. He was short. His baby blue eyes looked as if they were glazed over and wrinkles covered his lightly tanned face. The old man was really thin as it looked like he had no meat in him at all. It looked as though his skin just lightly layer over his bones. “Thanks! My name is Darrel!” I said as I walked over to him and extended my arm for a handshake. He just looked down at my hand and gave me a snobby expression. I pulled my arm back and placed it into the side pocket of my blue jeans. “You’re not from around here are you sonny boy?” He asked me. “No sir. I live in Florida most of the year. I came here to finish the new novel I’ve been working on. I was hoping that a change of scenery would be good for inspiration.” I said to him. He said nothing and glared at me with the type of look that says ‘You’re wasting my time!’ “How long do you plan to stay here?” He asked me. “Oh, I don’t know, until the end of the summer. I don’t have to turn in the manuscript to Scribner until the end of September.” I told him. “You might want to get out of here before then. You might just want to turn your pretty little car around and leave. Visitors don’t seem to fare real well around here lately.” He said to me. I opened up the trunk of my car and got out a couple of cardboard boxes and then turned my attention back to the old man. “Look mister, I don’t take too kindly to being blackmailed to threatened! Do you understand?” I said to him with a firm voice. He laughed for a moment and the smile dropped completely off of his face. “I’m just simply trying to help you Mr. Wallace. Things have been happening in this town as of late. I don’t want you to get caught up in that.” He said. “Look man, I’m the king of horror. Not much can scare me. Definitely not hollow threats from some old b*****d.” I said to him. The old man just smiled and looked up into the sky. The sky was lit in a beautiful orange color, as the sun was about to set. He then looked over to the house across the street from us and stared at it. The house looked old. It sat up on a hill that the drive way went up. In the front yard there was a sign reading THE McREYNOLDS MANSION. “Who lives there?” I asked him. He turned to me and just smiled and began to laugh. “I’m sure that you will find out soon enough.” He said to. He turned his back to me and walked back down the driveway and turned the corner. “I hope to see you in the morning Mr. Wallace. I really do!” He said to me. He laughed some more before disappearing around the corner. “Crazy old f**k.” I mumbled under my breath. I was fairly used to people pulling s**t like this on me. They figured that if I am as twisted and fucked up as my writing is, then I wouldn’t mind people acting like this. To tell you truth, it didn’t even bother me…that much. I picked up the cardboard boxes and walked over to the front porch of the cabin. I opened the door and then walked inside.
2. Later that night around 10pm I sat down at my desk beside the window looking out at the house and began working on the new book. The light of the full moon shined through the window as I typed. Every five minutes I would have to look up and look at the McReynolds Mansion. I know that it sounds crazy, but it was like I could hear someone calling out my name in a faint whisper. “Darrel! Darrel!” I kept hearing someone whisper. Finally I decided to get up and take a look to see what was going on. I stood up from my desk and walked across the living room over to the front door. “That’s right Darrel! Open it!” Someone whispered on the other side of the door. I glanced out of the small rectangular window at the top of the door to see if I could see anyone out there. I couldn’t. I leaned my face against the door and pressed my left ear against the wood. “Who’s there?” I asked the only thing I could think of. “Come on Darrel! Open the door! You’ll find out who’s here, all you have to do is open the door!” The voice whispered to me. I slowly started to back away from the door. I started to hear something from coming from the door. It was like a scratching sound on the other side of the wood. I started to make my way to the door. I reached out and placed my right hand on the doorknob. “That’s right Darrel! Open it! Open it!” The voice said to me. I slowly turned the doorknob and the door swung open. There was nobody there. On the door step of the porch was copy of one of my bestsellers, Dracula 3000. I knelt down and picked it up. There was a rectangular sheet of paper sticking out of it like a bookmark. I placed the book under my arm and closed the door behind me. Then I opened up the front cover of the book. On the small piece of paper was a message written in what looked like red ink, but now looking back, I can’t be quite sure. The message read: Get out! Get out while you still can! Before it’s too late! I thought nothing of it. I certainly wasn’t going to leave. If I were going to do anything, it would be call the police. I paid the note no attention and placed it on my desk and then went back to work.
3. The next day, I was taking a break from writing. I was outside wearing blue jeans and gray tank top mowing the lawn. My iPod was stuck down in my front pants pocket as I was listening to Bon Jovi over the roar of the lawn mower. A shadow fell just in front of me and I looked up. It was Norman. I turned off the engine of the mower and took out the earplugs. “Did you get my copy of your book?” He asked me. “Yeah, and you’re damn lucky I don’t call the police! I read the damn note!” I told him. He just smiled at me. “What note? I just wanted you to sign it. I’m a big fan of Dracula novels myself!” Norman said to me. “What are you? Are you just a fan of mine that has a few screws loose? Are you my Annie Wilkes? What is it?” I asked him. He just stared at me for a moment before finally saying something. “Can I just get my book back?” He asked me. I sighed, turned my back to him, and walked in the house to get his damn book. I walked over to my desk and picked up the book when I noticed that Norman was staring at me through the window. I grabbed a pen and signed my signature and then closed the book back. Then I walked back out of the house and handed the book to him. “Look, if you ever come to my house at ten o’clock at night and whisper in my doorway again, I swear to God I’ll call the police.” I told him. Then he gave this strange look. “I wasn’t here at ten. I would never be out that late after dark. I don’t have a death wish. I left the book here around 8:30 after you already went back inside.” He said to me. Norman walked over to me and leaned in close. “Get out! Pack up your things and leave before nightfall! You will not want to be here tonight! I promise you that!” The man said. He turned his back to me and began to walk away. By this point Norman had me convinced that something was going to happen that night. “What is it? What’s going to happen tonight Norman? Why don’t you just tell me why it is that I have to leave?” I asked him. He stopped but didn’t turn around. “If I did, do you really think you will believe me?” He asked. Norman started walking again and disappeared around the corner. I looked back up at the McReynolds Mansion, placed the earphones back in my ears and continued to mow.
4. As darkness arrived, I finally did go back to work on the new novel when I heard a knock at the door. “S**t!” I said to myself, as I was sure that it was Norman at the door trying to scare me again. I walked over to the front door and opened it. “Alright slime ball what do you…” I started when I realized that it wasn’t Norman. This man was younger. At least he looked that way. He had wavy brown hair and brown eyes. There wasn’t a single wrinkle on his face and his body type was slim. He was wearing a light denim blue button up shirt with the tale of it not tucked in his pants and a pair of light blue jeans. “Sorry. I thought that you were someone else. What can I do for you?” I asked him. “My name is Drake. They all call me Drake nowadays. I live in the McReynolds Mansion across the street.” The young man said as he pointed to the mansion. “Hey Drake, my name is…” I started. “Yeah, I know. You’re Darrel Wallace the author. I love the series of novels you did on Dracula.” He said to me as we shook hands. “Is there anything I can help you with Drake?” I asked him. “Sure. I came over to talk to you about our fine city. Will you invite me in?” He asked me. “Sure! Come on in!” I said. I moved to the side and he walked into the house. I shut the door behind us and walked into the living room.
5. “Can I get you a beer man?” I asked him as I walked over to the bar. “Sure that sounds great!” He said with a monotone. I reached into the fridge and pulled out two long neck Bud Lites and carried them over to him. I handed him one and kept one for myself. I sat down chair across from where he was sitting. “Have I been the first neighbor to come over to greet you since you arrived?” He asked me. I took a sip of the beer and looked at him. “No. That Norman guy from next-door stopped buy a couple of times. By the way, what is that guy’s deal? I mean, it seems like the guy has been on my case ever since I got here!” I told him. The warm welcoming face left as soon as I mentioned Norm’s name. “I don’t know. But he’s strange isn’t he?” He said to me. I nodded and took another sip of the beer. “He said that many outsiders don’t make it here and that something was going to go down tonight. Do you have any idea what that means?” I asked. He thought for a moment and then shook his head. “Nope. Not at all.” He glanced over to my desk where there was a poster of the dust jacket of Dracula 3000 hanging above it and pointed to it. “Now that’s a book that I really liked. It was just so…accurate!” He told me. At first I didn’t think much of it. But then I glanced over to the mirror across the room. I saw my reflection, but his was nowhere to be seen. “It is?” I asked. Drake smiled but then gave me a strange look. “Yes. It’s amazing how much you know about us.” He said to me. “Now Darrel, do you want to see what a real vampire looks like?” He asked me. “I mean, you obviously think you know a lot about us. But I’m not your average every day on the street vampire. I am he! The count. The modern day Dracula. I am Drake!” He said to me. He began to morph. He grew large fangs and his fingernails grew out to about two inches long. His eyes turned yellow and he glared back at me. His forehead wrinkled up and he hissed at me. He grabbed me and then bit me on the left side of my neck. I blacked out after that.
6. The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital. Norman was standing in the corner of the hospital room looking out the door. “I told you to leave! Why didn’t you leave?” He asked me. Norman turned around to face me. “Where am I?” I asked him. “You’re in the damn hospital. You are in here for loosing excess blood. You’re damn lucky I got there when I did or you would have become one of them.” He said. “What happened?” I asked in a dazed tone. “Drake bit you. I was able to sneak up behind him and stake him through the heart before he killed you. You’re extremely lucky.” “So you brought me to the hospital?” “Yes. You are lucky. Take my advice. As soon as you get released leave. You can go home and pack up but make sure you do it in the daylight. Every since he came back, there’s been a damn outbreak of the fuckers.” He said. “But you killed him. Once you kill Drake, the rest of them die right?” I asked him. Norman walked over and leaned in whispering in my ear. “Drake can’t die!” He said to me. Norman turned his back and walked out of the hospital room. I let out a deep sigh as a cloud of dust began to appear on the floor. The dust rose to about six feet reassembling Drake in his vampire form. I was shaking with fear. I pressed the HELP button beside my bed hoping that a nurse would quickly respond. Drake pointed over to the door and the door slammed shut and locked by it. He walked over to side of the bed and grabbed my finger off of the help button. Drake bent it completely back to where the back of my finger was touching the top of my hand. I shouted out as the blood rushed to my finger. Drake placed it hand over my mouth and tilted my head. “Now, I’m going to finish what I started you little f**k!” He said me as he moved in to bite me once more. I shouted out in fear again as I can remember feeling the blood empty from my arteries. He pulled away and looked at me. I was dead…until later that night. Copyright 2014 by Cody Williams Courtesy of TRUE TERROR PUBLICATIONS A division of TTP Entertainment © 2014 Cody WilliamsAuthor's Note
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8 Reviews Added on July 8, 2014 Last Updated on December 28, 2014 Tags: horror, gothic, thriller, vampires, Dracula, Drake, short story, Cody Williams AuthorCody WilliamsElizabethton, TNAboutI am in my second year at Carson-Newman University in Jefferson City, Tennessee were I major in instrumental music education and minor in English. My passions include playing the trombone/euphonium an.. more..Writing
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