Musings From A Demented Mind (15 page)

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Authors: Derek Ailes,James Coon

BOOK: Musings From A Demented Mind
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“Maybe you should walk outside and breathe some fresh air.  It’s getting dark outside.  We should be safe.”

“Franklin, we can’t risk it.”

“Ok, but tomorrow I’m going to have to do some grocery shopping.”

“Just bring back plenty of chips.  I get bored down here.  I’ve watched every DVD we own and my eyes can’t handle reading another book in this synthetic light.”

“I can bring the PlayStation down here, and you can play some video games.”

“Bring all the games down.”

“I will.” 

He sat down next to her and put his arm around her.  He kissed her forehead.  He thought about the times they had together before the apocalypse.  She was very strong willed, one of the reasons he fell in love with her.  There was nothing that could stand in her way.  No matter what the obstacle had been, she overcame it.

“I love you.”

“Franklin, I know,” she said with a smile.  “Do you want to make love to me?”

“It would pass the time.”

“There isn’t anything else to do down here,” she said and kissed him.

The next morning, Franklin left to do the grocery shopping.  While he was away, Matilda continued to write in her diary.  She heard a loud sound outside.  Franklin just left.  It couldn’t be him.  She climbed out of bed and walked over to the wooden stairs leading to the door above.  She could hear several voices outside.  She stood still staring forward as the door burst inward and three police officers dressed in riot gear rushed in with their guns pointed straight at her.

She just stared at them as they opened fire.

 

Franklin pulled into his driveway a couple hours later.  He grabbed the bags of groceries and walked toward his backyard.  He dropped the groceries as he spotted the door leading into the shelter smashed inward.  He ran through the doorway and saw the floor covered in blood.  Matilda was nowhere to be seen.  Sitting on top of the bed was her diary.  He grabbed it, skimming through it until he came to the last page with writing.

On the bottom of the page, written in someone else’s handwriting, it read: Purge Completed.

 

 

                   
In the Hollies Style

 

Allan stood in front of the old restaurant waiting for the bus to arrive.  It had been pouring down rain for several minutes and he wished he had grabbed his umbrella before leaving his apartment a couple hours earlier.  The bus was running fifteen minutes late and he was in a hurry to get to his friend, Graham’s, house to record a couple of songs he wrote the night before.  He, Graham, Bernie, Bobbie, and Tony had been working on a bunch of demos hoping a record company would be interested in signing them.  

A tall woman with long, curly blonde hair wearing a black dress walked over to him.  She was protected from the pouring rain by a red umbrella.  He quickly glanced at her trying not to be obvious that he was checking her long tanned legs out.  She stood next to him also waiting for the bus.

“Hi,” she said seductively.

“Hi,” he said, trying not to sound shy.

She smiled.  There was something about his scent she liked.  It reminded her of a man she knew a long time ago.  She knew he was the man she was looking for.

“You can stand under my umbrella.  But seeing how drenched you are, I don’t think it will make much of a difference now,” she laughed.

“Don’t mind if I do.”  He moved closer to her, under the protection of the umbrella.

“My name’s Allan.”

“Carrie-Anne.”

“Nice to make your acquaintance.” 

She looked at him, checking him out.  Her stomach growled loudly.  Embarrassed she said, “I haven’t eaten in a long time.  Work has been keeping me busy.”

“What do you do?”

“I work at the museum preparing antiques for display.” 

She tried really hard to stop her stomach from growling.  She was hungry and Allan looked delicious. 

“This may sound like a strange question.  What is your blood type?” 

“Huh?  I’m not sure.”

“It really doesn’t matter.”

A blood-red smile crossed her lips, revealing two ivory fangs and an endless hunger.

Allan jumped back out of fear and began to walk backward. 

“What are you?”

“Some would refer to me as a vampire.”

She moved slow and sensual, stalking her prey in delight.  As she was licking her lips, Allan turned and ran. She was about to chase after him when she spied a homeless guy lying on the ground next to a dumpster. 

“I guess you’ll have to do.  I’m in no mood to run today.  Another time, Allan.  Another time.”

 

“A vampire?  You didn’t try any of that funky weed, did ya?”  Graham asked, trying not burst into a fit of laughter.  “I guess you should start carrying garlic with you.”

“Graham, I’m not joking. It really happened.”

“I would believe you being a vampire.  You look like a tall, thin Dracula,” Bernie joked.

“I want to bite your neck,” Bobbie said, trying to sound like Dracula.

“You won’t be laughing if you encounter her,” Allan promised him.

“That’s all we need ─ some blood thirsty groupie,” Bernie laughed.

The door burst open and Tony rushed in.  “Come listen to this song on the radio!”

They walked into Graham’s living room and “Love Me Do” by the Beatles was playing. 

“They were saying this group is the future of the industry,” Tony explained.

“Allan, do you think we can replicate their sound?”  Graham asked.

“I believe we can make it better,” Allan promised.

After the song ended, Graham looked at Allan with the most serious look he had ever possessed.  “Let’s go rehearse the new songs.  By the way, Allan, no songs about vampires.”

“Fine.  It really happened.  Let’s rehearse.”

 

After rehearsing for several hours, they made their way to their favorite pub to throw darts and drink until they couldn’t stand up straight.

“Don’t let us run out,” Bernie said to the waitress.

“Do I ever?”  she said as she walked away.

“I was thinking about how I escaped death today,” Allan said as he threw a dart, hitting the bullseye.

“Here we go again.”  Graham shook his head.

“I’m serious.  Her stomach was growling and she was going to eat me.”

“Allan has quite an imagination.  A perfect trait for a songwriter,” Bobbie said while tapping his drumsticks on the table in perfect rhythm with the song playing on the jukebox.

As they were talking, the door to the pub opened and four men wearing black trench coats walked in.  Allan dropped his beer mug in horror as Carrie-Anne walked in behind them still wearing the same black dress.

“Guys, it’s her.”  Allan said, shaking nervously.

“Looks like plenty to go around,” the tallest of the men said, licking his lips in anticipation.

“Can I get you guys something to drink?” the waitress asked.

The man spun around and grabbed her throat, lifting her up several feet.  He quickly bit into her neck causing blood to flow outward.  Her blood was hot and salty upon his tongue and he gulped greedily.

The bartender grabbed his shotgun from underneath the bar.  Before he could lift it up to shoot, one of the other men was on him biting into his neck.

“Hello, Allan.  I followed your scent here.  I’m glad your friends are here to join me for dinner….literally.”  Carrie-Anne walked toward them.

“Guys, do you think we can win in a bar fight?”  Bernie asked.

“Against vampires, are you nuts?”  Graham replied.

“Back door leads to the alleyway,” Bobbie suggested.

Tony grabbed a pool stick and snapped it in half.  He walked backward and tripped over a chair.  One of the men lunged for him and before he could land on him, Tony jabbed the end of the pool cue into his chest.  The man looked at him stunned, and then burst into flames and crumbled into ash.

“Grab a weapon and aim for their chests,” Bobbie commanded and held his drumsticks ready to strike.

“What are you going to do, drum me to death?”  the tallest man laughed.  He stood in front of Bobbie taunting him.  “I’ll let you take the first shot.”

Bernie grabbed a beer mug and slammed it in the back of the tall man’s head.  As he turned around to attack him, Bobbie stabbed him with one of the drumsticks.  The tall man screamed angrily, burst into flames, and crumbled to ash.

Carrie-Anne turned her attention away from Allan and watched as his friends killed all of the other vampires.  She looked back at Allan angrily. 

“Another time, my sweet.” 

She rushed out of the pub, transformed into a bat, and flew away.

“Ok, you were telling the truth,” Graham said as he tried to catch his breath.

“How can ordinary pieces of wood pierce their skin so easily?”  Bobbie asked as he stared at his drumsticks.

“It’s because you all are reincarnations of vampire slayers from a long time ago,” a short, stocky man wearing a grey business suit said from the back of the bar.

“Who are you?”  Graham asked.

“I’ve been referred to by many names over the centuries, but you can call me Ronnie.  Not only am I a music producer, I am also a vampire slayer.  I was sent by my record label, Parlophone, to offer you a record deal.”

“Record deal right after we were almost killed?”  Tony questioned.

“The record company is a front for us vampire slayers.  We’ve been looking for a while for the ones who will wipe the vampire race from existence.  You guys are the ones.”

“We are vampire slayers?”  Bernie looked at him suspiciously.

“You can easily slay any vampire with whatever you hold that is made out of wood.  Come with me to the recording studio.  I will make you a famous music group and you can kill vampires for us while making yourselves richer than your wildest dreams.”

“Ronnie, you’ve got the wrong guys.  We’re musicians, not slayers,” Allan told him.

“Trust me, she’ll be back with reinforcements.   She has your scent.  She’ll be able to find you no matter where you go,” he warned.  “I will teach you everything you need to know to protect yourself from her vampire order.”

“And you’ll make us rich in the process?”  Tony asked.

“Yes, I promise you.”

Allan looked at each of them and then at Ronnie.  “We’re in.”

 

Bobbie sat down behind his drum set inside the recording studio while Graham and Allan talked with Ronnie outside. 

“The powers that be want your first single to be a guaranteed hit.  They want you to cover The Coasters’ song ‘(Ain't That) Just Like Me’.  Do it in your own style.”

“We are familiar with the tune.  I’ve always liked the catchy chorus,” Graham said.

“We actually have also played ‘Searchin’ at some of our gigs,” Allan added.

“Excellent.  We’ll record them both.  Two guaranteed hits,” Ronnie said excitedly.

“Let’s do it.”  Graham said as he led Allan into the studio.

“Guys were doing ‘(Ain't That) Just Like Me’.  Let’s hit it from the top.”  Bobbie kicked it off as Allan began to sing his heart out.

 

For the next few years, they recorded and toured extensively while battling vampires on a nightly basis.   Going on with as little sleep as they could, they fought and killed hundreds of vampires, but they hadn’t seen Carrie-Anne since the night in the pub.  Graham even recorded a song titled “Carrie-Anne” hoping to draw her out of hiding.  During that time, both Allan and Graham had met women who they married.

Trying to keep up with his marriage, constant touring, and killing vampires, Graham was wearing down quickly.  After their latest album “King Midas in Reverse” failed to chart, and his disagreement with the rest of the band about doing a Bob Dylan cover album, Graham decided it was time to retire from the vampire slaying and move to America to join up with the friends he met while touring there, Stephen and David, and form a new folk rock band.

Allan watched as his friend boarded the plane heading for the States.  He sat down and watched the plane take off.  He thought about all the good and bad times he and Graham had experienced since their childhood.  Neither of them ever imagined the impact on the music industry they would grow up to have.  Let alone all the vampires they would slay.

A familiar voice from behind snapped him out of his trance.  “Hello, Allan. It’s been a long time.” 

Allan quickly spun around holding a wooden stake in his hand ready to strike.  “Carrie-Anne.”

“Is that how you say hello to a dear old friend?”  She sat down and stared up at him.  Her fangs ached for his throat, but she ignored her hunger.  “Put that thing away before you draw unwanted attention to us.”

“What do you want?”  He put it back into the holster he wore as a belt.

“To warn you of things to come.  Now that your group is falling apart at the seams, I thought it would be the opportune time to reappear from my hibernation.  Yes, I’ve been asleep for years waiting for the perfect time to awake from my slumber.  Charging up my batteries, as the saying goes.”

“You know I’ll have to kill you.”

Carrie-Anne laughed for several seconds before looking at him with her cold dead eyes.  “Good luck with that.  By the way, I think your wife is beautiful.”  She transformed into a bat and flew away.

Allan sat there stunned.  Outside the window, he could see several bats sitting watching him.  He grabbed several wooden stakes off of his holster and walked out of the terminal toward them.  Salivating, they transformed back into their human forms and stared at him.

“Tonight I’m in a killing mood.” Allan said.

  He deflected the attack from one of the vampires while stabbing another one in the chest.  Several more bats landed, transforming into vampires, surrounding him.

Allan jumped to the side as a large black van with wooden stakes attached to the hood, the roof, and the sides collided into the group of vampires impaling several of them.  Bobbie, Tony, and Bernie jumped out of the van after it stopped and attacked the vampires killing what was left of them.  Tony ran over to Allan and helped him back to his feet.

“Carrie-Anne is back.”  Allan looked at them concerned.

“Ronnie warned us.  We got here as quick as we could.”

“Thanks.  As you can see, I was greatly outnumbered.  With only four of us now, we will need to be more cautious.”

“We will be back to five tomorrow.  Ronnie hired a replacement for us.  His name is Terry.”

“I hope he knows what he’s getting himself into.”  Allan placed his wooden stakes back into the holster.  “Singing is one thing.  Killing a vampire is another.”

“Agreed” they said in unison.

“She knows about my wife.”

“Don’t worry, Allan.  Ronnie has her locked away safe.  She’s already complaining about the strong garlic smell,” Tony assured him.

“That’s a relief.”

 

The next several months, they didn’t see Carrie-Anne or the vampires anywhere.  They took the free time to begin working on a new studio album.  They entered the studio and a man wearing gigantic sunglasses was sitting behind a piano working on some music.

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