Controlled Chaos (Deadly Dreams Book 1) (11 page)

Chapter Twenty-one

6:00 p.m. Sunday Evening

I planned that night to go visit Felix at the pizza parlor in the hopes that he would offer to hang out. It was a crazy thought, but one I was willing to entertain. I needed to get a read on the guy, find out what made him do what he did. I did not want to see him killing for the rest of my life. He was a young guy. He would probably live another fifty years, at least. That sounded like a lot of dreams.

How could he not have been caught by now? Was it because he only killed people in the drug world? Were they easily forgotten by the system? I thought I should talk to Steve and certainly Munson about these murders and see if they had heard about them.

I wasn’t looking forward to hanging out with Charles Manson, but I hoped I could figure Felix out and have him stopped. I hoped he wouldn’t try to involve me in anything. Serial killers weren’t the best at walking around and not killing people.

I sat down with my coffee cup and poured myself a cup of blood. It was like electricity every time I drank it.

I waited until sunset and then dressed to go out and meet Felix. On my way there, I considered calling the whole thing off and visiting Donna instead. I could not get that girl out of my head. I needed to deal with Felix, however, if I hoped to have a normal life again.

Ha! Normal, who are you kidding? Vampires aren’t normal. Your days of a normal life are over.

The fact that Donna hadn’t called my cell probably meant she was winning the good fight.

I groaned, frustrated that I had decided to walk home the night I was attacked instead of calling a cab. Was this the gift bestowed to me by God when I cried out to Him that night? How was this the answer to all my prayers?

It’s true I had barely thought about my old patients since the dreams. Just Donna had occupied my mind, and she wasn’t legally my patient. But we had our boundaries. At least we did till the last time we saw each other.

This whole new dream problem certainly did manage to take my mind off of things, but it wasn’t exactly what I had been looking for. I now had a world of issues that I had no idea how to deal with.

How am I ever to return to work when I can’t go in the sunlight?

My thoughts shifted when I walked into the pizza parlor and saw Felix at the counter. I had wondered if he would be at work today after a murder the night before, but apparently that wasn’t enough to keep the boy from going into work. I put my game face on and headed to the counter. Felix recognized me immediately. “Hey, what’s up?” Felix said to me. I could tell he recognized me.

“Not much,” I said. “Bored out of my mind. I’ve just been going for a walk. Can I get a slice?”

“Yeah, sure.” Felix got a slice of pepperoni pizza and placed it on a paper plate with a few napkins.

I paid for it, not knowing what else to say. I headed to one of the tables in the parlor and sat down to eat, trying to look as bored as I possibly could.

I didn’t bother to look up when I saw Felix approach my table.

“I get off in fifteen if you want to hit up a party with me. I got a few scores to make, and you might meet a honey there.”

I finally looked up. “Sounds cool. I’ll wait right here.”

Felix returned to work, and I hoped that the scores that night weren’t going to be bloody ones.

Felix wasn’t at all what I expected. I tried really hard to find the killer inside of him and couldn’t. He didn’t act creepy, he didn’t say weird things, and he had lost that cool detachment that he had in all my dreams. I was starting to wonder if the dreams weren’t real at all.

I worried that some of my outpatients would be at this party and that I would be recognized as a fraud. That would be all I would need at this point in my career.

But, luckily, I didn’t know a soul at the party, my age probably having a lot to do with it. It was a twenty-something crowd. Let’s face it, my twenty-something days were long gone. I kept my distance from Felix as he made his scores, not wanting to get involved or to have people assume I was a dealer as well. I watched Felix from afar, shaking my head in bewilderment. There was no fear on the faces of these people when he approached them, and they all seemed to genuinely like him. He high-fived people as he entered a room and even flirted with a few ladies.

I felt like I was being played for a fool, except for the fact that Felix had no idea who I was. I struck up a conversation with a pretty brunette while I waited, figuring Felix out was going to take a lot longer than I thought.

“Nice party,” I said. “I like pretzels. A party really isn’t a party until pretzels make an appearance. Am I right?” I said, knowing I was being ironic and hoping she got the joke.

“Was that a pick-up line?” she asked. “I couldn’t tell if you liked me or you’re really into pretzels.” She gave me a knowing look and said, “That’s me being ironic and in both cases, I don’t think either one of us used the word correctly in a sentence.”

I smiled. “Thank goodness the grammar police aren’t around. That would be extremely annoying, ya know,” I said with a smirk. I really didn’t care if she liked me. This wasn’t the kind of party I normally frequented, and this was definitely not the type of woman I’d hit on. Both were in the ‘out of reach’ zone. Just the party itself made me wonder why in my dreams Felix associated with scumbags, but in reality, he was a regular Gatsby.

I was horribly confused. Eventually, the brunette found a guy more up her alley and she bailed.

I sipped carbonated water, so I could keep my wits about me. And the problem was, this was a party that was out of my league and these were the type of drug addicts that pay a hundred grand to go to a clinic to get clean. On both accounts, I was of no use here. I made my way over to Felix and he was in the middle of a conversation with a cute blonde. I told him I was going to take off. He asked me if I needed a ride home. I told him I would be taking a cab. He gave me a funny look. A look more menacing than what I had seen him give to this point. But then he quickly cracked a smile. If I didn’t already suspect this guy of a being a psychopath, this very small interaction told me more than he possibly could know.

He was the guy in my dreams. I knew it. It sickened my gut when I realized it really was him. Just a look told me. It was like for a split second I saw the man in my dreams appear as the man in my dreams. He didn’t just come out and say, ‘Hey, I really killed all those people in your dreams’. But what I saw...was a person who was capable of doing anything.

A wild card.

Wild cards are a hard group to pin down. Now I knew what I was dealing with. Felix was a fucking Draw Four in my Uno deck.

Chapter Twenty-two

3:00 a.m. Monday Morning, Labor Day

I left the party and took out my cell so I could call a cab. I looked at the night and wondered if I was capable of flying. The concept that I could turn into a bird was strange enough, but now you add flight to it. Holy shit!

I got a sudden burst of energy and I had a large amount of excitement about the unknown. I had to give this a try.

I decided to walk away from the party a few blocks until I was in a completely different track altogether. I found a fairly vacant street. I looked up and it read, ‘Western.’ I knew where I was. Knott’s Berry Farm wasn’t very far away.

I stood in the middle of the street and looked around. Not a creature was stirring. Not even a mouse.

I decided to reenact what I did when I was able to turn in front of Steve. I thought what it would feel like to be a raven and I closed my eyes.

Again, when I opened them, the world was incredibly large. I needed to remain calm. My bird form was fully developed, so I just need to learn how to fly. I looked down at my bird feet and laughed to myself. It was a funny thing; birds can’t laugh the way human do. It sounded like a sarcastic squawk.

I decided to take off running on my tiny bird legs and just start flapping my wings like any normal person would do if they were in my situation. I laughed at the absurdity of that statement from all its angles.

Again, it sounded more like a sarcastic squawk.

I continued to flap my wings and I noticed that if I flapped them in a rhythm, I would began to get lift. It was learning that rhythm. It was hard to learn, and before I knew I was flying around like Mighty Mouse. More like Mighty Raven. Again, I did a sarcastic squawk.

I decided once I got used to the feeling of flight that I liked it. I’d had enough dreams that I could fly all my life and it was funny. The reality of flying, how it feels underneath you and the gliding in midair was exactly like the dreams I had.

I had flying dreams before I was a vampire.

A vampire?

What the hell am I saying? What the hell have I become? I continued flying home and I knew landing was going to be the tricky part. I had seen enough superhero movies where people fly, where the landing was always the bitch.

I saw my condo off of State College and Chapman, right by Cal State Fullerton. I could see the Kevin Costner paid, world-class baseball field. Everything was beautiful. I decided I would land across the street from the stadium. There was a church that had a large open parking lot as part of its property. And they had a large green field in the back of their church.

I debated landing in the parking lot, but it made far more safety sense to land in the field in the back. Grass versus gravel? Not a big decision. I flew down at the front of where the grass started, so it gave me the best chance of landing. I tried slowing my flight to almost a standstill. Then I just glided my way down to the grass. It was that easy. Once I hit the grass, I transitioned back to my human form.

I dusted myself off and checked my jean pockets; my wallet, keys, and cell phone made the journey back.

I walked across the street and made my way to my house.

I slept deeply and soundly. No dreams of Felix and his killing escapades. Thank God. I took a long shower and put on some clean clothes. I looked down at my phone and I had a text from Steve.

It read, ‘You still up for Monday Night Football at Ricardo’s?’

I texted him back that I would be there at the usual time.

I laughed. Why? Because only Steve could make me laugh under these circumstances.

I decided to have some of my delicious new favorite, bloody tea, with my scrumptious human blood, donated to me to save my life. Whoever donated it wasn’t aware they were saving a vampire’s life. But I had come to terms that if I had to lift a few bags here and there and it kept me alive, I was going to do it and not feel guilty. I was going through the bags too fast. I really enjoyed human blood. I had a bag and a half left. I knew I would need to make a stop before I got home.

Chapter Twenty-three

5:30 p.m. Monday Evening, Labor Day

I walked into Ricardo’s bar and I spotted Steve in the corner right in front of the Monday night game between New England and Cleveland. We both bet New England to cover and we expected a blow-out.

I sat down across from Steve and looked at his plate. He was about six wings into a twenty-five count. Steve liked his wings.

“Damn, those look good,” I said.

“Order a 24-sizer. It’s like ten bucks,” Steve said, jolly and very, very lit. He also liked his beer.

“I’ll never eat another wing again,” I said. “It’s weird knowing I have zero appetite. They look good, but I’m not interested.”

“That what I’m thinking about the women in this place,” Steve said to me. “Couple city. Where are the single ladies at?” Steve was obviously not going to let me mention vampire talk at all. “Our age? Single women are a scary deal.”

“I guess there is a reason why they are single,” I said, knowing I was also thirty-something and very single. But what about Donna? What did we call what we were? What were we?

“Not married. Not in any type of relationship,” Steve said. “Just sort of dating. I think that’s what the world is slowly turning into.”

“At least you hope so.”

“Does Hunter still believe in fairy tales?”

“Not fairy tales,” I said. “Just love.”

“Wait. Wait. Wait. What the hell is going on? I know when my boy is smitten by the opposite sex.”

“Oh, you do?” I said, laughing.

Steve grinned and said, “Yes, I do. It’s very different when I know you’re smitten by the same sex.”

“Must you?” I said. “I need to get some help here, Steve. I can’t go out in the sunlight. So how do I ever return to work again? If I can’t return to work, how do I make an income to live as humanly as possible?”

“Don’t avoid my love question. I know you have some crazy shit going on in your life. Is one of them true love?”

“Look, Donna and I might have turned a corner.”

“Donna? Donna Schwartz? From high school Donna? ‘Crackhead’, ‘given blow jobs to homeless guys’ Donna?”

“Fuck you, dude. She has never done that. And if you have heard that...it’s bullshit.”

“Okay, that last one was a test to see if you really were serious? Holy fuck, you are. When did this happen?”

“It just did. We have always been close.”

“I never understood it, but now, it all makes a little bit of sense.”

“You think?” I said, surprised Steve was being so open-minded about it.

“No, it doesn’t, numb nuts,” Steve said. “Right now in your situation, a crack-addicted female is the last thing you need to be dealing with. You can barely take care of yourself these days.”

“How do you know? How do you know anything? I’m being serious. You’re now scared shitless of me. You won’t talk to me about what is really important. ”

“Look, man. When we first talked about it, I’ll admit, I was freaked out. But...”

“Now you’re not?” I said. “What has changed?”

“I just figured I needed to be a better friend and have a bigger set of balls.”

I looked at Steve, and that was exactly what I wanted him to say. And that was why we were best friends. “I can’t stay long,” I said. “I have to rob a blood bank for dinner.”

Steve chuckled.

“Laugh it up, man,” I said, shaking my head.

“Hey, I’m just glad that you haven’t tried to have me for lunch.” Steve smiled at me and said, “So what have you been doing with yourself these days?”

“Actually I have been hanging out with that guy from my dreams.”

“What dreams?” Steve asked.

“My seizure-dream deal. Ever since I...well...you know. I have been having these insanely clear dreams.”

“What is happening in these dreams?”

“I’m watching a serial killer,” I said.

Steve looked at me, confused.

“Look, Steve. Ever since the attack, my sleep paralysis has turned into a detailed nightmare extravaganza. I see this guy killing people, and then I ran into him in real life and he has the same name as he does as the guy in my dream.”

“And in your dream?”

“Nightmare.”

“In your nightmare, you see a guy killing people and then you met the same dude in real life?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“You said you ran into him by accident. Have you seen him since?”

“Yes,” I said. “Last night.”

“What the hell, Hunter? Do you think that’s wise?”

“We went out a few times, and the strangest thing is that he seems completely normal.”

“That’s not strange at all. Psychopaths are master actors. Every time a serial killer is caught, you see some little old lady on the news telling everyone how he seemed like such a nice boy. Hanging out with that guy is bad news. He’s dangerous, and you don’t want to get caught up in his murder spree. Not to mention, the guy is in your dreams in a paranormal way; it’s unnatural for you to be visiting with him. Stay the hell away, man.”

“You don’t understand,” I said.

“No, Hunter, you’re wrong. I do. Stay away from that guy. Let’s catch him the old-fashioned way.”

I got up and downed a beer. “I have to go; I’m starving.”

“Shut your ass up. I’ll buy you a shot of tequila. That will have to take the edge off.”

“I doubt it,” I said.

“Then have four or five until you don’t give a fuck anymore about the blood.”

So that was what I did. I took my old friend’s advice. I got drunk off my ass. You know what, I quit craving blood. I could see how it would be easy for vampires to be alcoholics if that was the only way to fight blood cravings.

Steve and I just talked football and any other sport that snuck into our conversation for the rest of the game. I drank a lot, and there was no way I was driving or flying home.

That wasn’t the biggest drama in my life that night. I lost a big bet two weeks in a row. Steve lost too, so he wasn’t exactly rubbing it in like he was last week.

I looked to the sky, drunk, and laughed, “Don’t drink and fly.”

I called a cab for myself. Plus, I had an errand I had to run.