Atypical Vampire

Not all vampires drink blood and live in big castles nestled in forgotten hills.

  Stuggy stared at the words on the old, worn pages of the forbidden book. He mouthed out the word that had so thoroughly terrified him; “vampire”. He shuddered, the thought of an undead man drinking the blood of the living was abhorrent to him. Stuggy’s little body stiffened at the sound of movement approaching, the attic steps creaking. He quietly slammed the ancient book closed, shunted it deep beneath a pile of old clothes and dust. Scrambling into a proper playing position, he retrieved his discarded action figures and made pretend to be deep in a battle of wits. 
  “Stanford?” Aunty T called out, the top of her dull grey beehive-hair peeking up into the attic. Her narrow eyes followed, clad in large gaudy glasses on a decorative string to keep her from loosing them. “Stanford? Are you up here again?”
  “Yes, Aunty,” he replied, turning himself around to more properly face her. “I needed someplace dark to play Vietnam.”
  “Vietnam is a jungle, sweetheart.” She gestured at the cluttered, dusty attic. “This is more like Egypt at night.” Stuggy laughed at her joke. 
  “Is it dinner already?” he asked, checking his hand-me-down orange watch. 
  “Just about, but I need you to go invite the neighbors over.”
  “Again?” Stuggy asked, dramatically rolling his eyes so hard that it rolled his whole head. “Why do we have to sup with them so much?”
  “Because it’s the Christian thing to do, Stanford.” Aunty T waggled her finger at the boy. “You be nice to Camilla, got it? Or you're in for a beating.” Stuggy’s skin crawled with invisible ants at the promise of a thrashing. Aunty, despite her age and apparent fragility, had a truly vicious arm.
  “Yuck,” Stuggy muttered, setting down his toys and standing, brushing off the dust and cobwebs from his clothes. Aunty was already gone, presumably back to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on the food. Uncle Tom would be home soon, too. Always home in time for supper, no exception. Stuggy sighed with the heavy weight of a youth troubled yet again by a mediocre chore. 
  “Oh, well.” He shrugged, running to launch himself down the attic steps, halting just at the top, remembering that his Aunty was indeed home. He made a note to do it later. Stuggy hopped down the stairs two at a time, rounding the hallway to the next staircase, repeating this maneuver with childish glee. He ran out the front door and sprinted as hard as he could down the street to the new next-door neighbors. Stuggy jumped up over the three large steps leading to the porch with remarkable grace, landing firmly before the door.
  Stuggy rang the doorbell, silently hoping that the family wasn’t there right then. The yellow door opened. Drat.
  “Oh, hello, Stanford.” The tall lanky woman said quietly, mildly surprised to see the little 9-year-old boy on her doorstep. “Has your Aunty sent you over again?”
  “Aunty T wants to invite you again to have dinner with us.” Stanford reported loudly though flatly, rocking back and forth on his feet with boredom. 
  “Oh, that’s right. She said something about that a few days ago.”
  “Uh-huh.”
  “Let me go get Cam and Jet and we’ll be right over.”
  Oh, grand. Cam is coming. Stuggy grumbled behind his eyes. “Okey-dokey.”
  “Cam! Jet!” the woman shouted into the house, the sudden noise startling the boy nearly off his feet. Stuggy could see Camilla just beyond her mother. He stuck his tongue out at her. She pulled her mouth down with two fingers to reveal her rather nice bottom teeth. Stuggy found himself tonguing his own crooked baby teeth. He hadn’t lost any of the bottom ones yet, a fact he was self-conscious about. Camilla’s Mom ushered her out first while she retrieved the man of the house. 
  “Stumpy,” Camilla greeted him disrespectfully, purposefully mispronouncing his nickname.
  “Freckle-face,” Stuggy parried.
  “Dough-butt.”
  “Thick-head.”
  “Beak-nosed dirt-eater.”
  “Soup-slurper.”
  “Wow, that’s original,” Cam sneered, folding her arms. She was taller than Stuggy, which was irritating as she was the same age as he. Cam had ugly red hair and freckles and her teeth were too straight, except the one she had missing in the front. She was yucky and mean and wore colorful dresses with flowers and patterns and ribbons and frills and other silly things on them. Stuggy had never liked girls that much; except Tabby from school. She was funny, she ate bugs and could throw a wicked curveball and she let Stuggy cheat off her in math. 
  “Not my fault Aunty wants you guys to eat with us,” Stuggy grumbled. “If it were my way, I’d never see you outside school.”
  “Well, at least we can agree on something.”
  “Okay, kids,” Cam’s Mom reappeared in the doorway, accompanied by Jet, Cam’s Dad. “Let’s get going.”
  Stuggy shot off like a starter’s pistol to make it home before Uncle Tom. He didn’t quite make it, reaching the door just as it closed behind his beloved Uncle. 
  “Stuggy!” Uncle Tom exclaimed, turning around at the loud thumping of his nephew’s feet. He held open his big arms and waited while Stuggy launched himself into the air, slamming chest-first into his Uncle’s heavy padding, feeling the thick limbs close around him. “Ohh, look at you! Did you get taller while I was gone?” 
  Stuggy laughed, kicking his feet in the air. Uncle Tom plopped the boy down on the ground as the neighbors arrived at the open door.
  “Oh! Hello, Jet. Yvonne. And little Camilla.” Uncle Tom shook each of their hands. “Welcome back. I assume my lovely wife lured you here with the promise of a pie?”
  Cam’s Dad laughed lightly, falsely. 
  “No, no, nothing like that.”
  Stuggy walked past them to the kitchen to wash his hands. Aunty T was there, finishing up the preparations. 
  “Good boy, Stanford,” she told him, patting his head. “Here, take these rolls out.”
  
  Dinner progressed smoothly. Stuggy and Camilla sat across the table from each other, sparring silently, mouthing insults and glaring whenever the adults weren’t paying attention. 
  “Did you hear about that poor girl down on Sublime Lake Street?” Uncle Tom inquired as dessert was served. 
  “Oh, yeah, the one that saw the monster?” Jet asked back, snickering. “Yeah, I heard about that.”
  “Isn’t that the third one in a month?” Yvonne inquired. 
  “At least, yeah,” Jet said. “Wonder what’s going on.”
  “Probably just some kids playing a bad prank,” Yvonne said dismissively. “Theresa, this pie is wonderful. You’ll have to give me the recipe.”
  “No, please don’t,” Jet said cheerfully. “Yvonne can’t make a pie to save her life!”
  “Jet!” his wife exclaimed. 
  “Nobody’s perfect,” Uncle Tom laughed. 
  Stuggy was licking the memory of the pie off his plate, staring at Camilla as she delicately swirled her fork around in the syrupy residue that remained. She glanced at Stuggy, sneering briskly. 
  “Kids, do you want to go play while we talk?” Aunty T inquired, staring directly at Stuggy. He shrank under her gaze, nodding compliantly. Camilla was likewise coerced, her parents’ eager faces shutting down any opinions to the contrary she might have offered. The two children excused themselves from the room, taking their plates and silverware out to the kitchen to be rinsed. 
  Stuggy had an idea.
  “Hey, Cam,” he said, smiling mischievously. “Wanna see something?”
  “Not really,” Camilla replied with a roll of her eyes. “But my mom and dad really want us to be friends so I guess I gotta at least try.”
  “Cool. Come with me out back.” Stuggy gestured, walking briskly to the back door. He held it open for her, as a gentleman should, and followed her out. The sun had set by then, darkness was closing in on the small town. The back yard was fairly large with a dense forest at the far end. Stuggy knew where all the obstacles were in the yard and graciously guided his guest through them to the very edge of the property.
  “Where are we goin’?” Camilla asked finally. Stuggy stopped at the trees. 
  “My treehouse is over here. See it?” he asked, slipping into the deep shadows of the forest. Camilla, not dressed for nature exploration, stayed behind on the manicured lawn. 
  “No, I don’t see nothin’.”
  “It’s right here. Just follow me.”
  “No, I’m not goin’ in there.”
  “Why? You scared?” Stuggy sneered venomously. Camilla felt a sudden rush of hateful anger flush her face clear to her ears, rendering her flesh and hair the same hue. She stomped her foot in irritation. 
  “I am not scared!” 
  “Chicken.”
  “Am not!”
  “Bawk-bawk-bawk-bawk!” Stuggy mocked her with the sound of a chicken. Even in the dimming light, Stuggy could see the young girl’s rage emanating off her in red waves. 
  “Fine!” she cursed, shoving dark wooden fingers and claws out of the way as she entered the woods. She could feel the plants pulling on her dress, scratching at her bare legs and scuffing her pretty pink shoes. “This had better be good, Stanford!” she swore at him, spitting. She followed Stuggy deep into the woods, following a rough-hewn path left by deer and other hidden forest life. The pair moved further in, the darkness swallowing them up in it’s cool, dreamy folds. 
  “Almost there.” Stuggy assured her, moving swiftly. Camilla lost sight of Stuggy right then, instead following his footfalls into a small opening in the woods. A damn-near perfect circle of trampled, nibbled-down grass was at the end of the trail; the moon above illuminated very little and Camilla was growing anxious. She’d never been so far into the woods. After all, she was new in town and hadn’t been around much at all; too busy unpacking and resenting her parents for making her move yet again. 
  “Stuggy?” she called out, rubbing her chilled arms. She couldn’t see or hear him anymore. The darkness was endless, the tall and intimidating monoliths seemed to loom over her, mocking and sneering at her smallness. “Stuggy?”
  There was a quiet rustling nearby. Camilla turned her head toward the noise, her eyes huge reflective pools of fear. 
  “Stuggy!” she shouted, her voice thick and viscous in her throat. Another sound, another direction. Then another, again! Camilla felt her bones shaking in her flesh and she wanted so very much to just melt into a puddle and slither away. Suddenly, a hand touched her arm. Camilla whirled around, her little fist lashing out in reflexive rage.
  “OW!” Stuggy’s voice, harsh and quiet. “That hurt!”
  “Stuggy!” Camilla whisper-yelled at him. “What were you doing? Tryin’ to scare me?!”
  “Yeah,” Stuggy admitted, holding up a paper mâché mask of some terrible amalgamation of horrifying imagination. “Did I get ya?”
  “Yes!” she said harshly, shoving Stuggy, who was busy giggling like a little maniac. “You’re so mean!”
  “Oh, come on!” Stuggy said between gasping laughs. “I got you good, Cam!”
  “Shut up!” Camilla said, angry and embarrassed tears in her eyes. “That wasn’t fair! It’s dark and I couldn’t tell where you were!”
  “I was right next you the whole time.”
  “No, you weren’t! I heard ya movin’ around over there!”
  “I wasn’t over there. I was right here. I hid the mask in this bush here so Aunty wouldn’t find it. She hates scary things.”
  “Quit lyin’ to me, Stanford!” Camilla said with a stomp of her foot. “I heard you over there and then over there, scuttlin’ around like the rat you are!”
  “Wait, you’re serious?” Stuggy asked, sitting up. Camilla could see his eyes in the moonlight. He seemed confused. “But I wasn’t over there.”
  “You sure?” she asked quietly. “No kiddin’?”
  “No kiddin’.” Stuggy felt his blood run cold. What had Camilla heard out there? A word flashed unwanted behind his eyes; Vampire. He felt very nervous suddenly. “Let’s go back to the house.”
  “What’s that?” Camilla asked, pointing. Her voice was mostly curious but hushed and uncertain. Stuggy looked over at what she was pointing at. 
  The children’s veins filled with ice. There, at the edge of the little clearing, not too far from them, was a moonlit silhouette. The figure was tall and gaunt, limbs long and slender, the head adorned with a black crown of hair. The eyes were amber and glowed with an inborn light. 
  “Vampire,” Stuggy whispered, terrified. He stood slowly, reaching over to grab Camilla’s hand. She shuddered, staring unblinkingly at the figure. The creature didn’t move much, just the eyes; subtly darting back and forth between the two children. 
  Stuggy found himself unable to move. He was trapped! His feet were glued to the ground and his body was strapped against an invisible wall. The boy shuddered and felt sick to his stomach. 
  The creature leaned forward, moving like an ape, slowly creeping towards them. 
  “I’m sorry, Cam.” Stuggy managed to squeak out. He felt guilty for their inevitable deaths. His mind went to the old book in the attic, about the gruesome murders and blood-sucking of the ancient vampire described within those pages. What a way to go, he thought. Killed by a vampire in the woods by my house. Oh, what will Aunty T think?! It’ll be so hard on her, he mused remorsefully. She and Uncle Tom will be so lonely without him. And what about Camilla’s parents? What will they do? Would they blame poor Aunty T? Oh, this sucks! 
  The “vampire” stopped in front of the two, sitting down on the ground yet he lost no inches in stature. Stuggy and Camilla watched the long, spindly fingers of the beast’s hand reach out, delicately clasping around the mask Stuggy clutched in his sweaty palm. The vampire seemed intrigued by the mask, turning it this way and that, looking it over. He set it down on the ground beside him, focusing his attention on the entranced children. They were so very small, their heads could fit in his long, boney palm. 
  The vampire reached up a spider-legged finger and pressed the tip against Camilla’s forehead. She inhaled sharply and Stuggy could feel her fear intensify. The creature… cooed. It was like a purring noise, but much deeper and wet. Cam’s face slowly shifted, relaxing, loosing tension and emotion. Her eyes dulled and the lids drooped. The vampire blinked. Camilla crumpled, unconscious, into the awaiting hands of the monster. Stuggy watched in abject terror as the beast brought her close to his shadowed and obstructed face, sniffing. The twig-like fingers guided Camilla to the ground, setting her down with all the reverence and care of a new mother laying her baby in it’s crib for the first time. 
  The vampire turned to focus on Stuggy, now. The poor boy was so afraid that he felt light-headed. The vampire’s scrawny finger lifted, pressing gently to Stuggy’s forehead. Stuggy gasped, feeling a sharp pain and a doubling of his fear, like whenever he saw a flash of lightning at night followed by the crashing boom of thunder. His heart was beating so fast it was bruising his ribcage. 
  Then, oh then, there was a shift. It was so very sudden that it took Stuggy a moment to realize it had happened. He felt… how did he feel? The terror was gone; going, flowing up from his feet and his stomach and his heart all up to his head, the way blood does when you hang upside-down. He felt a numbness fill in where the fear had been, the previous feeling was pooling up in his face, behind his eyes, then up and out through the straw-like appendage of the vampire’s finger. The creature was purring wetly again, the sound generating no unease anymore. Stuggy felt empty, devoid of emotion, cold and withered. It was a little like boredom, but much worse. There was nothing left of Stuggy, just the mind. No feelings, no sensations, no emotions. He felt incomplete. Then he felt tired. His eyelids drooped as Camilla’s had and he slipped away from reality, falling into the living-tree hands of the monster. There was a quiet warmth that followed, a blanket of dreamless sleep. The last thing Stuggy could remember was the sound of the vampire’s moist purring. 

  The children opened their eyes. The worried faces of their guardians hovered above them.
  “Oh, my stars!” Aunty T exclaimed, throwing her arms around the groggy Stuggy, holding him so tightly she might very well have squeezed her own life into his little body. 
  “Aunty!” Stuggy exclaimed, surprised, embarrassed, and uncomfortable, wiggling in her arms. 
  “Oh, Stanford!” Aunty said over and over, threatening to beat him for scaring her like that and to never leave her sight again and how worried she and Uncle Tom had been. Beside them, Camilla’s parents were similarly occupied. 
  “What happened?” Camilla asked sleepily. 
  “You two must’ve gone outside to play after dinner,” Camilla’s Mom said tearfully, delicately smearing her mascara with her thumb. “You were gone for twenty minutes before we noticed.”
  “You lovebirds were outside in the yard,” Uncle Tom said, prying Stuggy from his Aunty’s vice-grip. “Sitting asleep on the bench. You must’ve been real tired! We couldn't wake you.”
  “We were so scared,” Camilla’s Dad admonished. “You weren’t responding, we got worried and brought you inside.”
  “Oh…” Stuggy said quietly. He glanced over at Camilla. 
  “We saw that monster,” Camilla said abruptly. Stuggy almost choked on his own saliva. “It was out there, in the woods.”
  “What were you doing in the woods?” Camilla’s Mom asked, her question unheard.
  “Now, what are you on about?” Aunty inquired, still coming down from the terror of the past few minutes. “What monster?”
  “The monster that attacked those girls,” Camilla supplied. “Mister-Uncle Tom mentioned it, remember?” Aunty T shot Uncle Tom a vicious glare. 
  “You were probably just dreaming.” Jet assumed.
  “Nah, I saw it too,” Stuggy said, coming to Camilla’s aid on the matter. 
  “Now, Stanford,” Aunty said sternly. “You know what happens when you lie.”
  “I’m not lyin’!” Stuggy proclaimed, holding up his hands. “We both saw it! It was big and skinny and it moved like those big monkeys, y’know? On all-fours.”
  “Like a gorilla. Not a monkey; an ape.” Camilla corrected him quietly. He glanced a silent “whatever” at her. 
  “Kids,” Uncle Tom chuckled. “Such imaginations at this age.” 
  “We weren’t imagining it!” Camilla argued. “It happened and we saw it!”
  “Sure, sure,” Yvonne said, dragging a hand over her face in exhaustion. “C’mon, we can talk about this later. Let’s just go home.”
  “Yeah, I think that would be best.” Jet agreed. They each took a hand of Camilla’s, leading her to the front of the house. Aunty and Uncle Tom followed with Stuggy in tow. 
  “Thank you so much for a lovely dinner,” Yvonne said as they exited. “I hope we can return the favor soon.”
  Aunty replied in kind, apologizing for the scare and for Stuggy’s poor manners, which Stuggy found rude as he thought himself rather well-behaved. 
  “See you, Stuggy,” Camilla said.
  “See you, Camilla.”
  Once everything had settled down and Aunty had reprimanded him for lying and going into the woods so late at night she sent him to bed. Uncle Tom patted him on the head, thanking the boy for his cooperation. Stuggy waited for the house to get quiet before he crept to the dark window, looking out into the woods beyond the yard. 
  There, amongst the tall dark trees… there, amongst the dark and hollowed shadows… there, amongst the mysteries of the universe… there, two small stars peered up at Stuggy. 
  And Stuggy stared back.

END