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Okay, here's my next attempt ... Not much, but thanks for reading :)
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I
It wasn't so much the things spoken in the pale sepia faces which passed him by, but the things unspoken. Thoughts transmitted in secret codes, sneering, mocking thoughts, dreaming of poetic justice for transgressions yet to be committed.
It had rained furiously earlier in the evening, but now the rain had given way to a sweltering heat, the full moon reflected in the puddles of festering rainwater into which gutters trickled.
He heard a splash underfoot as a shadow rounded a corner.
It's shadow grew in disproportion on the ground, appendages like the tendrilous limbs of dark trees, but he was not given to illusion. He had no use for such base and carnal pleasures. What attracted him was the feeling as his sharpened fangs glistened, the feeling that he was Life and Death. His heartbeat pounded away like fists against walls until they finally broke free, his bloodthirsty attack a force of nature, a force of nature so random, so viscous, no philosophy could relegate it, no believer's faith could remain unshattered.
Then, just as quickly as it emerged, the cataclysmic storm subsided and moved on, the attacker disappeared back in the nothingness from which he came.
II
"Johnson!"
Bob was irked at the angry voice of his boss interrupting his training this close to the office minesweeper tournament, but Bob had to accept that some people couldn't get their priorities straight.
Bob entered Barry's office and sat down on the nice-looking but uncomfortable chair.
Bob's oversized squarish glasses and slightly receding hairline gave him a disarming appearance which belied his passive aggressive nature. Bob was the type who could stab someone in the back slowly enough that they wouldn't notice until it was too late. All in all, he was perfectly suited to his job as a claims adjuster.
"There's a lot at stake in this assignment," Barry said. "That's why I decided to put our best man on it. Unfortunately he's out with the flu, so I'm stuck with you."
"Accidental death?" Bob said, taking out his legal pad.
"Not exactly," Barry said. "Vampire attack."
Bob nodded absently before the slow-release comment took effect.
"Come again?"
"Vampires. Undead. Garlic. Wooden stakes."
There was a moment of awkward silence.
"Barry, am I understanding correctly ... someone is filing a claim for ..."
"Vampire attack. You seem shocked."
"Well frankly, to sell a policy like that seems a little unethical."
"Well, well," Barry said, eyeing his so-called friend disappointedly
. "Look who went to sleep and grew a conscience. You never questioned my ethics when you rolled up in that fancy Dodge Stratus!"
"How can someone prove they were attacked by a vampire? That's like proving you were attacked by the tooth fairy."
"I know!" Barry grinned. "That's the beauty of it!"
"I don't know. It just seems like we're taking advantage of someone's paranoia. "
"All you right, you want the truth? When I was your age, just getting this company off the ground, once in a while I'd have a customer on the fence, trying to choose between me and some two-bit Bernie Madoff ready to sucker them into the poor house. So maybe I throw a double indemnity against vampires to close the deal. Sure its a white lie, but if I'm guilty of a crime, it's having someone's best interest at heart. It's wanting to see that someone's family is cared for. Now tell me Bob. Will you do it for the children?"
III
The thing Bob hated most about flying was the thought that the only thing separating him from doom was a thin layer of aluminum. The worst thought was that if he were to die in a plane crash, his life would be sacrificed for the cause of scratching a zero off a check.
Bob knew little about vampire lore than what he'd seen in the movies. He thought perhaps of researching the matter, but in the end decided that the most paranormal thing he would see on this trip would be the smell coming from the exposed socks of the man snoring next to him.
After gratefully touching down and having a pointless conversation over the definition of "reservation", he soon found himself driving away from the airport not in the luxurious SUV he'd hoped to charge to the company, but in a white subcompact with only radio only and, he would discover an hour later, an odd pinkering under the hood.
At first he was confident that no rental company wouldn't send him down an isolated highway at night in such an ill-fated vehicle, but he soon found his confidence was misplaced and was forced to pull over. He wasn't precisely sure what had caused the vehicle to fail, but he was certain it was related to the liquid trailing from its underside.
For the sake of completeness he tried the cellphone, even though he had already discovered that a signal couldn't seem to penetrate the hilly and densely forested surroundings.
It was perhaps the benevolence of fate which kept Bob ignorant of what lurked in the shadows, the eyes that watched but could not be watched, a Presence begotten of an insatiable hunger that could sense blood flowing like a river of fire and lusted lecherously after it, bearing down upon its arms and legs a force which was not their own in a spidery advance.
The darkness and emptiness of the place formed the dimension in which the Presence thrived, moving slowly, patiently, assuredly.
This peculiar constitution of the Presence was a double-edged sword however, for when its quiet, controlled circumstances were interrupted by the lights of a semi, it became a slave to its instinct to fight or flee, and it chose the latter.
The truck stopped and the door opened to reveal a gruff bearded man in flannel and a cap.
"You need a lift?"
IV
As the machine barrelled down the highway, the driver enjoyed the company of his guest.
"The problem is," Jim rambled on, "If you have two particles of mass, the gravity between them gets cancelled out by stronger forces, so really it's like having gravity from a single particle! 'Course nobody thinks about that when they're biting into a nacho. But I digest. What are your thoughts on the matter?"
"Hmm ... anything on the radio, Jim?"
Jim turned on the radio, which was tuned to Coast to Coast AM.
"I have a strange story to relate," the caller began. "I was walking through my backyard at night, and suddenly I felt frozen in place, like I was too scared to move. Do you think this could be a portal to Hell?"
"Normally," Jim interjected, "I would say what he's dealing with is your standard interdimensional rift. Of course, if it happened around here, I'd say it's a vampire."
Bob was starting to think he'd have been better off by the roadside, but decided to bite anyway. "Vampire, eh?"
"Oh yeah. See, what they have is a crude form of clairvoyance, thought transference if you will, which acts as a sort of paralytical toxin, making attack a less arduous task. You might be in a dark place and suddenly find yourself gripped with some nefarious thought, like being late for your SAT maybe. Thus distracted, that's when the vampire goes in for the bite with its protracted fangs."
"Can anything ward off an attack? Crosses? Garlic?"
"I've never heard of religious artifacts having any affect, although I suppose the vampire could be an atheist in which case it might be offended and feel you're not respecting its personal beliefs. As for garlic, if recent studies are any indication, it may actually improve the vampire's health."
"How about wooden stakes?"
"I have to debate the logic of trying to put a stake through a vampire's chest. Really you're trying to kill something that's already dead. Frankly, the notion is somewhat ridiculous."
"So what would you suggest?"
"Well, following from what's known of a vampire's diet, the most logical solution would be to deprive it of blood. Maybe some crude form of embalming would be in order. Of course these are all theoreticals. I doubt you'll ever find yourself in a situation where these things would apply. Anyway, this looks like the place," Jim said, as the brakes hissed to a stop. "Course if you do run into a vampire, I'd be interested to know how it turns out."
"Thanks Jim. You'll be the first to know"