Exsanguinate (13 page)

I
drove
home without a hitch in my bootie cast. Never thinking my parking space would be a welcome sight, I pulled in and nudged my dad awake. “C’mon big fella – let’s get you upstairs.”

We hobbled to the elevator and took the fifteen story ride up to my penthouse. I pressed my thumb against the scanner panel and heard the gentle snick of the lock tumblers opening the door.

Even though I knew no one was home, I still called out to Beano, “Momma’s home.” As soon as I got him back, life would be close to what it was before the attack. After getting my dad settled I went outside to check on my tomatoes and chickens. They had done a terrific job of keeping everything watered. The chickens didn’t have a care in the world. Critters fed and watered, I collected their eggs and thought about dinner.

My mind raced with ideas about what to do or what to eat. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to go for a swim, cook squash, go rock climbing, take a nap, bake cookies, or run a marathon. My body wasn’t cooperating with my head. I was ravished and ready to fall asleep at the same time. I checked the fridge for something to eat, but the only things in it were spoiled hummus and wilted celery. Checking the freezer, I pulled out a vacuum sealed bag of my mom’s chicken soup and left it on the counter to thaw. I needed to go to the grocery store, or we were destined to study take-out menus for the rest of the night.

I went back into the living room to find my father snoozing on the loveseat. “Daddy, I’m going to the grocery store,” I whispered in his ear. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” I patted him on the shoulder and pulled Mom’s quilt over his lap.

“I need to tell you something,” he mumbled without opening his eyes. “Can’t remember … your mother …”

I straightened up. He frequently mentioned Mom in his sleep. Every now and then he would wake up cognizant insisting she was visiting him. The doctors told us to humor him and help him feel more comfortable.

“That’s okay, Daddy. You can tell me later. I’ll be back soon.”

“
Hrmpffh
… tired … sleep …” He moaned a few more inaudible Gaelic words and fell back into his snoring cadence.

I made a mental note to get him multivitamins.

Grabbing my keys, sunglasses, and my purse – I headed out to the grocery store. With my favorite staples in the cart – peanut butter, yogurt, almond milk, and a rotisserie chicken – I considered a bottle of tomato juice on an end cap. Not something I would normally purchase, but for some reason it looked good. I craved something, but I just couldn’t figure out what.

I turned down the sweets and crackers aisle, to find what I craved. I instinctively reached down to grab a bag of spicy hot Cheetos for Dakota and loaded them into the cart.

Then it hit me.

I burst out into chest heaving sobs right in the middle of the cookie aisle. I leaned down on a shelf, put my head in my hands and just bawled.

How am I ever gonna get through this? I can’t lose my sisters like this!

“Are you all right, ma’am?” Someone handed me a tissue.

I looked up. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen. Sweet, young, and genuinely caring. I shook my head.

“Oh my God, lady, your eyes … they’re bleeding. Did you fall on something? Are you okay?”

He held out a hand for me. I grabbed it, stood up, and wiped my eyes with the tissue. I blinked at seeing the bright red blood on it.

“Ah …oh, it’s okay. I … I just had out-patient surgery. I’m sorry, I was just leaving.” I quickly checked for a name on his blue shirt as I continued to wipe my eyes.

He handed me his tissue pack. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He gave me a sympathetic smile.

“Yep! Sorry again, Mario. Thank you for the tissues.” I walked away, slid the sunglasses down over my eyes, and pulled my hair out of the ponytail holder, letting the curly mane fall to cover my face. I pushed the buggy toward the checkout while wiping my cheeks.

After loading my groceries into the trunk, I turned on the car and sat in the air conditioned driver’s seat. I checked the rear view mirror for any more blood.

Unholy hell, my tears are blood? This is just like in my dreams. This is seriously not right. I need to check in with Dr. Laren.

Suddenly a wave of exhaustion washed over me, and it was all I could do to keep my eyes open. I didn’t want to sleep in the parking lot – I needed to get home.
Now
. Perhaps I should have stayed in the hospital for another day. Maybe Dr. Laren was wrong about me being healed after all.

I hope I can make it home.

* * *

T
he dreams continued
to haunt me every time I slept. Again, I saw the mask of the face in the shadows of my mind. That elusive corner the light barely touched to cast the shadow. Darker than the blackest night, the movement in the pitch continued to stalk me – always waiting. The visage of the killer in that haunted house, the one who pursued me kept coming back to take what was rightfully his. Finally, a beacon of light and his face formed in front of my eyes.

Bewitching, the Red Man covered in life-giving blood, emblazoned on my visual cortex time and time again. Never smiling, always looking lost, scared even, and then begging me for help.

Each night as I slept I became compelled to keep moving forward – to find my prey just as he did. I would awaken with bloody scratches on my arms, my faced bloodied from the tears, exhausted and often still sleeping in my clothes. I knew my dreaming had escalated to handle the post-traumatic stress from the attack, but things seemed to be getting out of hand. It became apparent how I could no longer understand the difference between my dreams and real consciousness. Then who was I to determine which one was real in the first place? The only thing I knew was the hunger. The dreams were most vivid when my blood sugar dropped below the danger zone, and I was ready to pass out.

The next night I found an easy target, a young couple making out down by the boat dock at Fairview Lake. Tall industrial fences bordered the old, abandoned Gulf Breeze restaurant to keep out the riff-raff, but it was well-known as a hot make-out place for adventurous teens on the weekends. Okay – so I once was one of those wild, adventurous teens, I knew it would be easy pickings.

Thoughts of cover up flashed through my mind. Maybe I could dump their bodies over by the cove marina. Would that be an easy disposal out into the lake? I didn’t care. I needed to eat. To drink. Starved from the inside out, an unknown heritage powered me on, and ordered me to feed it.

The teenagers’ hearts thrummed, pounding to the sexual acrobatics in the backseat. I focused in on them. Light flickered from a nearby electric pole, illuminating their naked bodies in the backseat of the car. Half of the light had been shot away leaving a tangled, dangling mess of luminescence.

The incense of sex drifted over the night’s sea breeze. Driven by my unknown needs and the scent of their sex, I became desperate to drown in their life-giving blood. It beckoned me closer. I knew, at that moment, above all else, I needed to consume those kids just as the Red Man devoured the mermaid.

In a heart wrenching attack, I watched as the slow motion movie unfolded before my eyes as I killed and consumed the two lovers and secretly desired more. With my stomach distended, I sat on the bank watching the bloody waves break at my feet, unable to understand my actions. Why would I dream the need to consume their blood in order to survive? I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and licked my fingers.

That weird feeling came over me again. I didn’t have any way to explain it other than to call it the
overwhelmings
. It was as if my mind clouded over and I would pass out. Morpheus invited me into his arms once again.

I woke up to the splash of the lake water on my face and the sound of the fog horn. Spitting out the lake water, I pushed up onto my elbow, my clothes and hair soaked and matted in brackish, bloody goo. I dragged my wet self up to the shoreline and looked around. Seeing the lifeless bodies in the car, I knew what had happened — again.

The overhead lamp flickered with a faint red hue. I looked down at myself and realized why I must’ve been in the water. I stared at the crimson stains on my shirt, my hands, my everything. I tried to wash the kids’ pedigree off me, but it stained under my fingernails and around my cuticles. Irrationality set in. I wondered when I could feed again. An evil grin sliced across my face while my heart fell into further recesses removing all emotion from my killings. More – I needed MORE.

I stood up and carried lover boy over to his car and set him by the rear tire. I realized it was Mario, the young man who had helped me inside the grocery store.

What have I done? Why would he be in my dream?

Straggling around to the driver’s door, I opened it and popped the latch on the truck. After loading Romeo-no-more into the trunk, I grabbed Miss Chickadee, who couldn’t have weighed 100 pounds drained, and I threw her into the trunk with him. As I stood looking at their vacant expressions, I wondered when this nightmare was going to end. Normally by this time, the freakish dream would have ended right after the exsanguination, but this time it didn’t seem to be fading away.

I looked at the bodies of the kids sprawled below me with their throats torn out of their necks. I felt no pity – only wished they had more blood to offer me. Humans, somebody’s daughter and son – no longer. I had drained them faster than a rain gutter during a hurricane and wanted more.

What the hell is wrong with me?
I just ate these kids! Why do I consistently dream I have become a blood-thirsty monster?

Knowing I should be waking up, I instinctively reached out behind the small of my back to pet Beano and reassure myself that all was still right in the world. Only this time, he wasn’t there.

Something grabbed my outstretched arm and calmly said, “We need to talk.”

Instantly I spun around, a low hiss caught in my throat as I crouched defensively. Amicula stood poised with an arched eyebrow high into her forehead.

“Are you done with the hijinks?” she asked.

Confused, I simply stared at her.

What in the hell is she doing in my dream?

“What’s going on?” I murmured, more to myself.

“It’s quite simple actually. This is not a dream. Nor have any of the other killings you have been leaving around for us to clean up.”

“Killings? You mean there are more of … of those?” I pointed to the dead kids lying in the trunk.

“Here’s the Cliff Notes version, Cheyenne.” Amicula let out an exasperated sigh. “You, my dear, have been bitten by a vampire. Your natural hunting instincts have kicked into overdrive.”

I took a moment to consider her words, but they didn’t make any sense. I stammered, “Hunting? Vampire? Instincts?”

Amicula simply nodded.

“Wait. Weren’t you my night nurse?”

“Boy, you’re a quick one tonight!”

“Listen, just give me a little more morphine, and I’ll get over this stupidity soon enough.”

Chey, you need to wake the hell up!

Amicula took a couple steps closer to me and I retreated.

“Yeah sorry, guess I can’t do that anymore since you’re not in the hospital.”

“What?” I shook my head trying to make sense of this craziness.

“It was my job to make sure you were fed the blood diet while you were in the hospital. However, when that idiot doctor discharged you early, we didn’t have time to reach out to you properly. We’ve had to track you down for the past couple of days. You’ve left quite a trail behind you.”

“What blood diet?” I looked at Amicula as if she’d lost her mind. Those teens must have been high on bath salts or something in order for me to cook up this delusional concoction. “Couple of days? No – you’ve got it all wrong. I just went out to go get my dad some vitamins.” My nightmares had never been this long or unbelievable.

“We’ve been watching you to understand how you might handle your first days on your own.” Noting her impatience with me, I watched as Amicula shifted her weight to her other foot. She continued in rather a bored tone, “You’re failing miserably.”

Rubbing my temples, I tried to shake myself awake. I didn’t know what to say to this absurd nonsense, but somewhere in the back of my mind a true note rang out.

“You’ve had your fun. Your feedings will become fully conscious soon. I can already see how you’re questioning what’s going on.”

My hands itched from the sand. I wiped them on the back of my jeans to get the muck off me.

“Sweet as this little scene is, Cheyenne, I need you to come with me, or the coven will have no choice but to exterminate you.”

I took a step toward the bank and away from Amicula, even though I was a bit shaky on my legs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Amicula asked.

“I … I have to get back to my father. He’s expecting me.”

“You left your house over forty-eight hours ago, Cheyenne. Your father is in trustworthy hands. No harm will come to him if you come with me.”

Amicula clicked a button on her shirt. I heard a man’s voice speak to her through her dark blue blouse.