An Unattractive Vampire (16 page)

“Only if it involves those stuck-up little shits getting what’s coming to them,” barked the bartender.

“So, a story of comeuppance, then. And I . . . What do I want? I want a drink.” He drank the last fifth of his beer, which dribbled through him and onto the floor. “Another, if you would? On him.”

The bartender looked to Yulric, who nodded.

“So a story about vampires, comeuppance, and drink.” Jack turned with a grin to Yulric. “I know just the one.”

“Once upon a time in the land of Erin,” the Irishman began, “during a month of great portents and storms, a boat came from across the sea carrying with it an Englishman. No one knew how long he’d ridden the waves, but fearing reprisals from the English, he was brought into the nearby village, where the doctor declared him dead. The people of the village gave him what burial they could, though being a Protestant and English, he was not buried in the churchyard, but out by the woods, with a simple wooden cross erected to mark the spot. Without a name, of course.” He looked right at Yulric here. “They didn’t know his name.”

Yulric frowned. He remembered now where he’d seen this man.

“’Twas several days before the first of the livestock died. A week before the infants followed suit. All across the village, people fell ill. The doctor from a nearby town could make neither hide nor hair of it, before he stopped coming at all. The only hope the villagers had left was prayer.

“After a week, the sick began to mend, and the foul weather cleared. The priest declared it a miracle, and everyone took it as such. Everyone except the village drunk.”

The Irishman paused his tale to answer a question on the television. “Would anyone happen to know who opposed Richard the Lionheart in the Third Crusade?”

“B,”
Yulric answered.

“Saladin? Are you sure?” asked Jack suspiciously.

“Quite,” responded Yulric, his hand unconsciously moving to the place where his throat had met with the blade of Salah al-Din Yusuf ibn Ayyub.

The Irishman punched the answer into the controller. When it was deemed correct, he continued.

“Several nights before, the drunk had been out a-stumbling, as was his way, when out of the shadows the Englishman appeared. His eyes still dead, his heart still stopped but certainly standing there. ‘You look well,’ said the drunk, ‘for one in the ground.’

“The Englishman just smiled and replied, ‘I am seldom in the ground.’

“‘Well, the worms have been kind,’ said the drunk. He took a bottle from his satchel. ‘Care for a drink?’

“‘Shortly,’ the Englishman said back, letting the man have a final nip.

“What the Englishman did not realize was that this man was a thief as well as a drunk. He’d long since been banned from the pub and was no longer invited into homes, lest people find themselves suddenly bereft. In fact, there was only a single building in all the village that was honor bound never to close its doors to him. Coincidentally, this building was always well stocked in wine. That building was the church, and the wine was the consecrated blood of Christ.

“So as the Englishman fell upon the throat of his drunken prey, and when the first drop of blood touched his lips, it burned them. He screamed and smoked and spasmed and swore. Where the skin did not ignite and turn to ash, it sloughed off like slugs, trying to escape. The muscle boiled, and the organs steamed. The mingled blood of drunk and Savior tore through that unholy beast till naught but the basest bones remained.

“The village drunk took the Englishman’s bones and put them back on the boat he’d arrived in. He covered them in a traveling cloak and threw a couple o’ dead rats aboard before pushing it back to sea. This done, he clapped his hands together and then got pissed from His Lord and Savior.

“When asked later why he didn’t just destroy the stranger, the drunk replied, ‘I’d not want to rob the English of his company.’”

The Irishman soaked in the attention of the entire bar. “The moral of the story, ladies and gents—always know what’s in your drink.”

A number of wolves let out appreciative laughs. A few applauded. One reached over to clap the Irishman on the back, went off-balance when it failed to connect with anything solid, and fell right off his barstool, which incited a much heartier round of laughter. In fact, the only person who wasn’t at all amused was Yulric.

“What’s the matter?” asked the Irishman. “Didn’t you like my story?”

“I’ve heard it before,” Yulric said.

“That’s right. I told it to you the last time we met,” Jack replied, a playful twinkle in his eye. “You liked it even less then. Hated it, in fact. Right down to your bones.”

The Irishman laughed and reached for his drink. His hand came back wet but without his glass. For the first time, he looked distraught. “Damn.” He stood up from his seat. “Time we were going, friend.”

Yulric did not move. “I’d like to catch up more.”

The Irishman raised his hand, which was now clearly seethrough. “The sun will rise within the hour. Time for all likeminded shades to be on their way.”

They made their way to the door. As they passed, the bartender tossed Yulric back his gem. “For the story.” Jack nodded and made a tiny salute.

Outside, the cold night breeze blew against vampire and phantasm. Neither felt its chill, though it swept up the Irishman’s tattered clothes and brambles of hair, as if mercilessly driving him onward.

“Here.” The Irishman handed the vampire a small sliver of paper. “I believe this is the tale you were after.” It was no wider than a hand, no thicker than a thumb. A pamphlet, in fact.

“If you go several blocks down,” Jack said, “you’ll find a sewer grate. The tunnel beneath leads straight out of the city, so no worries about subway or sunlight. How are you at crossing water?” Yulric did not answer. “Well, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

He turned to the turnip that hung next to the door. Despite his growing translucence, he had no trouble lifting the very solid lantern from the door.

“Your lantern led me here,” Yulric stated.

The Irishman nodded. “Aye. An ember of hell resides inside. Tends to attract the wrong kind of crowd: rogues and ne’er-do-wells. It led me to you and then led you to me.”

He raised his lantern before him and split the fading night as if it were solid. The wind changed direction, whirling toward the open void.

“Why?” Yulric yelled over the roar of the wind.

The wraith grinned the frightening, malevolent grin of a man mad enough to cross the devil and clever enough to win. A man too sinful for heaven and too slippery for hell. A man of Ireland.

“It’s been quiet around here for far too long,” he shouted over the roar. “High time things were a bit more interesting.”

The Irishman walked toward the tear in the universe. Reality warped around him so that each step was a hundred, and he shrank quickly from sight. However, just before he disappeared, he turned and hollered back, “What’s worse than an Englishman?”

Before the vampire could answer, the ghostly man passed through the portal, which promptly closed, allowing the laws of nature to take over once again. And just like that Jack of the Lantern was gone.

Yulric turned the pamphlet over, read the title, and understood why the Irishman had been there, why he had “helped.” What is worse than an Englishman? Two Englishmen.

Cursing all Irish, Yulric began to read the pamphlet in his hand: “Proper Vampirism by the Honorable Doctor and Lord Douglas Talby.”

By the Honorable Doctor and Lord Douglas Talby

Revised Edition 7 Circa 2008

The dictionary defines
vampire
as a preternatural being, commonly believed to be a reanimated corpse that is said to suck the blood of sleeping persons at night. Note that the dictionary has gone out of its way to label the vampire a preternatural being. There is a natural being, as feared and as difficult to kill as the vampire, that is likewise said to suck the blood of sleeping persons at night. This creature is the common bedbug, and according to the dictionary definition, it is our equal. What we have achieved then through our mastery of death is to become a household pest.

You are not to blame.

The dictionary defines
vampirism
as the acts or practices of vampires. Taken together, the two definitions interpret vampirism as simply rising from the grave to suck blood, as well it should. For millennia, our ancestors had no more ambition than to be ticks and leeches. Though capable of so much more, they
chose
to be mere parasites. To use an analogy, they were like a missing link between fish and amphibian, able to journey up onto the land but unwilling to leave the primordial ooze. This tainted legacy weighs us down and makes us monsters.

It needn’t be so. We can yet rise above. If vampirism truly is “the acts or practice of vampires,” then any action undertaken by two or more of us becomes “an act of vampirism.” Charity can be an act of vampirism. Intelligence, sophistication. We need not be limited by the definitions of old. We can make a new definition, one of civilized, worthy beings who have achieved perfection even unto immortality. Something to be idolized. Something to be desired. We can be the princes of the undead.

To this end, I have created a system for a new breed of vampire, a method that emphasizes the traits we find desirable while eliminating those that constrain our kind to the base or the ordinary. It is the way of Proper Vampirism™, and it is the foundation of the modern vampire movement.

The implementation of Proper Vampirism™ depends upon three factors: who becomes a vampire, how they become a vampire, and what kind of vampire they become. Let us explore each of these factors in turn.

Not everyone can be a vampire. It just isn’t practical. Biologically speaking, we are apex predators, and as with any ecosystem, our survival depends on there being enough prey species to support us. Seven billion vampires would be impossible to sustain. The planet’s animal supply only survives today because many humans live off vegetables, grains, and processed foods.

More importantly, though, not everyone DESERVES to be a vampire. This may be a harder concept to grasp. Many of you have grown up in a democratic society that teaches you everyone is exactly equal. This is patently untrue. Every person is unique, with certain strengths and weaknesses that make him or her more suited to one type of life than another. Certainly, you can seek to improve yourself, achieving through hard work what perhaps you were not naturally attuned for; however, one with no skill, aptitude, or experience cannot expect, for example, to become a doctor. Any society, like any chain, is only as strong, if you’ll pardon the cliché, as its weakest link. To include those predisposed to indulge their own desires, to give in to that which we are trying to rise above, undoes us all.

So who are these most worthy, you may ask? Who are these people suited for an immortal life? The rich? The powerful? The beautiful? I think not. Wealth accrues over time. So does power. And as for beauty, what cosmetics cannot fix, cosmetic surgery surely can. High character, however, cannot be bought, intimidated, or seduced into being. It only comes about by overcoming hardship. This resilient and noble kind of person is who we are looking for. These are our vampires.

So when eyeing a prospective vampire, ask yourself these simple questions:

1. Is the person used to getting their way? Do they buy their way through situations with money or looks, or scrape by on the strength of their personality/intellect?
   
2. What are their appetites? Do they indulge every whim and/or hedonistic desire? Do they delight in mere base, bodily pleasure? Or, perhaps, higher, intellectual distractions sustain them. Are they willing to sacrifice to achieve their goals?
   
3. Why do they wish to become a vampire? There are many paths to immortality, and none is perfect. Each has its own drawbacks. Do they merely want to forestall the trials of aging, or are they drawn to us by our culture and society? Do they know anything about us at all, or do they just expect us to be shiny?
   
4. How old are they? This, unfortunately, must be a consideration. Many of you may be tempted to turn loved ones and family members. Remember, a vampiric life does not magically undo the rigors of a long life. A ninety-year-old with a hip replacement is likely to remain a ninety-year-old with a hip replacement, albeit a stronger one, for all eternity. Moreover, their bad habits would be nearly impossible to break. Young people are able and, more importantly, willing to learn the way of Proper Vampirism™, but those who have aged in normal human society will want to continue living within that society instead of ours. To this end, anyone over the age of thirty-five will not be considered for vampirism. It may be harsh, but a century of experimentation has taught me that it is necessary.
   How They Become a Vampire
   

Once a suitable candidate has been selected, there are steps that must be undertaken by the perspective and actual vampires to improve the outcome.

1. Physique and Appearance: While obviously we eschew the naturally beautiful, aesthetically speaking, beauty is beauty. Oh, standards vary slightly from culture to culture and era to era, but less than many like to think. Men should always be strong and well-muscled. Women should always have full, firm breasts. You will find those who argue that being fat was once a sign of beauty. This is incorrect. Being fat was once a sign of wealth, which, at the time, was more important than beauty—especially to destitute artists who could not afford bread.
   

   In most cases, a strict workout-and-dietary regimen is all that is necessary to attain the required specifications. However, in the event that more extreme measures must be taken, we offer a number of cosmetic procedures, free of charge. It does not matter if you are in need of simple electrolysis or require facial reconstructive surgery, we will provide them. This is about making you the best possible version of yourself, because how you look reflects upon us all. Just not in a mirror. Haha.
   

2. Tattoos: This is a new problem that has only arisen in the past few decades. Tattoos have become prevalent, even acceptable, in society, and as our greatest desire is to blend in with the culture around us, you might think that having one would be desirable. You would be wrong. ALL TATTOOS MUST BE REMOVED PRIOR TO BECOMING A VAMPIRE.
   

   There are several reasons for this. You are embarking on an immortal life and, therefore, must be able to adapt to changing times and standards. In a few years, however, the trend will change and tattoos will be dropped in favor of some other method of expressing individuality along with everyone else. Not only that, but depending on the location, style, and subject matter, your tattoo will date you. Remember, you won’t just have your tattoo for a few measly decades anymore; you’ll have it for an eternity. Laser removal does not yet work on vampires.
   

   Plus, tattoos just look tacky.
   

3. For the vampire: Each vampire is allowed to sire, at most, three individuals. You may think this is an arbitrary rule but it is very important, and comes as a result of much scientific observation on my part. Since my rebirth as a vampire, I have sought to apply the concepts of genetics and selective breeding to our kind, which does not breed or pass on genes. What I have found is that as vampirism spreads down the line—generation to generation, from sire to sired—its effects become less pronounced. This may not seem like such a good thing, but it is, believe me. I, as one of the eldest-living first-sired vampires, cannot stand the sight of a cross, both figuratively, because I am an atheist, nor physically, because the vampire curse was not yet diluted enough in my time. However, thanks to the three-sire rule, few vampires today need fear garlic, cross, or holy water. Soon, some of you may even be able to step into the light of day. It is my dearest hope and is achievable with strict adherence to the threesire rule.
   
4. Approval: Before turning, all prospective vampires must be brought to me for final approval. No exceptions. I have worked tirelessly for over a hundred years to turn us into something civilized and respectable, but we can only continue to evolve down this path with constant vigilance. All it takes is one bad apple, if you’ll once more pardon the cliché, to spoil the batch.