#8: Throwing a Curve

A Chapter by Brytt

Desmond sucks it up (ha!) and goes into the hospital.

I panicked.

That guy looked so mad. When he came after Angelica, I got scared.
Wait, what am I saying? I am a vampire. Vampires do not get scared! I held my breath the whole way back to the cinema after taking her to the hospital. I still had a body to take care of.

I had done a good job of cleaning up the blood and hiding the jock-kid in a dark alley. I took my time dismembering the guy and hiding him in dumpsters all over the city. I came to know well the blonde hair, the unblinking and bright blue eyes. The last piece I got rid of was the head. I took that one to the bridge and threw it in the river. I never wanted to see it again. Afterwards, I walked smugly home, knowing that Angelica would be alright.

I wondered what would come next. In one day, I had killed a rogue vampire, turned down human blood (mostly), and killed a potentially dangerous person.

I was turning into Alucard.

I panicked again. Had Angelica noticed? Would my master be mad? Hundreds of questions raced through my ever-awake mind. How was I supposed to adjust to these fears that I had never known before? What was wrong with me?

For the first time in a hundred years, I wished that I could see the sun one more time. I had gotten used to this dark, cold world I was living in. It confused me, but I wanted the warmth again. I wanted the light.

I looked up from my feet and noticed that I had not walked back to the apartment building where I lived but instead had wandered to the hospital again. I could smell the blood from the street, even over the sting of the antiseptic and alcohol in my nose. I wondered for a moment if it would be safe.

I had brought Angelica in. I had stayed there until she had started to wake up. I saw her fearful eyes as I ran back to take care of her attacker. I had not thought once of blood for those two hours.
So why would now be different?

I checked the time on a nearby bank. It was almost two in the morning. I had some time before the sun rose. Besides, I probably would not stay too long. Angelica was likely asleep, in which case, they would not let me in. As I walked in, I prepared myself for the worst.

The emergency room only had five or so people in it. I saw a father holding a wheezing baby as the mother explained things to the receptionist. Near the hallway, a man was standing with a small girl, probably only about ten years old. I recognized them from earlier: Angelica's dad and sister.

The father, Ricky, saw me and smiled. He waved for me to approach, so I did with great caution, not wanting to lose my head. I had fed earlier, at the time of the fight. Angelica had passed out, and the other boy had died after I had punched him hard enough to break ribs. One got him in the heart, I think. He bled all over the pavement and on Angelica, forcing my already intense thirst to take over.
The point was that I was not sure I could trust myself even now.

"Desmond," Ricky smiled, "They're moving her to an overnight room now. They say that the leg broke clean, so she'll be fine. My wife wants to thank you for bringing her in."

"It's nothing," I lied.

I felt something wrap around my waist and looked down in surprise. The little girl was hugging me. She looked up at me with a smile, and my dignity committed suicide. She was so sweet.

"Thanks, Dessy."

"Y-yeah," I stuttered, "No problem, uh, Christy."

"Come on," Ricky said. "Angie and Jane are probably waiting."

I nodded awkwardly and followed the family down the hall. We passed hundreds of people and thousands of doors. It felt to me like an eternity, and I know a thing or two about time. All the while, I asked myself what I was doing, why I felt like I needed to do this. Finally, we came to a half-open doorway with a curtain blocking the patient from view. It was this room that Ricky and Christy led me into. They walked fearlessly to a woman in the corner. She sobbed happily when she saw me. I hesitated, looking at the only part of the bed I could see. Angelica's foot was in a cast resting on a pillow. I gulped then turned to Jane, Angelica's mother, who pulled me into a hug. I gave in to my base instinct and returned the gesture. Not the crying, I cannot cry, but I did hug her.

I glanced at Angelica and saw that she was watching me closely. I shrugged at her apologetically. I really was sorry, though I did not know why.

She was clean again, not a drop of blood on her. That was partly my doing. The sensation returned as I remembered the taste of her blood. I bit my lip to keep in control, though I was not thirsty quite yet.

"Mom, Dad," Angelica sang, "can I talk with Desmond for a minute? Alone?"

That could not be a good sign.

"Sure, honey," Jane cooed. "We'll be in the hallway."

They left the room, deserting me. I stared nervously at one wall, Angelica glaring at me from her bed.

"What was that?"

I shifted my weight, trying to maintain a human posture.

"That guy? I don't know him," I told her.

She scoffed, "Um, he's my boyfriend. He gets jealous easy. I meant, what happened after."

"Oh. Well, you passed out, so I brought you here. Your boyfriend? Really?"

"Yeah. I tried to stop him from hurting you, but-."

"Does he do this often?"

"Do what?"