B00724AICC EBOK (17 page)

The sheriffs had a myriad of cameras all over the city, paid for by the millions of dollars that Dracula had bestowed upon them to do their jobs. The cameras were properly concealed behind tiny pinpoints so that they wouldn’t be destroyed by the evildoers, some in hollowed out trees. Facial recognition automatically triggered a warning on their laptops to enable them to rush to the area, that’s if they weren’t actively in pursuit of another ghoul.

Keith gazed pass the trees into the night sky and observed a low flying Cessna 172 fly over. He thought that if he could jump that high he would launch himself up there and knock the plane out of the sky; how exhilarating it would be, to fall from such a height and then heal. What would be the appearance on the pilot’s face as he looked in on him in the cockpit? It would be a horrified face, of that he was certain; the terror on his face would be delightful. The calls to the tower would also be quite interesting.

He could suddenly smell a fire in the air, as the wind had shifted just so. The bonfire originated many miles away in someone’s messy backyard to chase the mosquitoes away. The vampire attempted to clear his throat several times and continued to sniff the acrid smoke. Perhaps he would follow the odor of smoke on the air and drink whoever was at the end of it like a tasty Cappuccino sprinkled with shaved chocolate. The monster sometimes liked to leisurely savour his victims, enjoying their cries as much as their salty flesh.

Keith had a cruel smile and a short forehead. He had a double chin and small brown eyes. A proper ogre and was proud of it. A single bottle of Jameson Irish Whisky was on the forest floor beside him. It had remained the sole survivor from a case stolen from a liquor store the previous night; he opened it and sank its entire contents and smashed the bottle against a tree. The liquor store clerk had been killed and eaten as a snack. Keith brushed himself off, cleaning his checkered comfort-fit twill work shirt as best he could; he stood up to orient himself in the dark forest. The smell of the dried blood on the mattress made him hungry. It was all that remained of his last victim, a twenty-year-old vixen from Upstate New York. He had blurred with her through the forest and almost decapitated her against a maple tree. She was permitted to scream and scream before he finally killed her. The shriller his food the more it made him salivate. Keith’s disgusting drool often slipped down his chin even before the first bite, a horrible sight for his victims; it had reminded more than one victim of a nightmarish clown escaped from a circus in hell.

The vampire stretched and then rubbed his forehead as he tried to wake up. He cracked his back and his belly fat rolled like an ocean wave, and then finally popped his knees and his elbow joints. He had an ass that could have had its own area code. It was ironic that one of his talents was speed. The day had been spent asleep under the blood-spattered mattress. It had been a restless slumber, and he had dreamt of eating a child even though he had never accomplished it in real life. He seemed to recall some sort of white-tailed deer that had passed through the area and almost stepped on him, unless it was a dream as well. Had it stopped and licked his right ear?

The big man took his three shurikens from the small red square box on the ground and threw them hard into the tree. Their blades were razor sharp and covered with oak dust. He had heard that once launched into a vampire they would cause excruciating pain, embedding the wood fibres deep into their skin and would take weeks to fester out. Or they would have to be dug out. They were meant for the red sheriffs that pursued him, to inflict horrible pain. He wasn’t the greatest shot, but his aim was improving.

Keith turned his head as he heard a commotion in the forest, attempting to orient on the sound. Whatever it was seemed to be miles off but heading in his general direction. Disturbed animals and pounding hearts moved amongst the sounds of the woods. A pheasant flew close to the ground in the opposite direction. It was two NYPD officers with their GTX SureFire flashlights cutting through the night, searching for a missing eight-year-old boy that had wandered into the forest and got lost when he left the trail. The cute but lean blond youngster had been playing with his imaginary black dragon, Kingster. Now they were both missing in the dark forest while his mother cried profusely as she was berated by her husband for not keeping a close enough eye on him especially in the days of the vampire onslaught. The dragon enjoyed lighting Ryan’s marshmallows ablaze with his eruptions of blue flame and wasn’t one bit frightened.

Ryan sat under a fir tree with Kingster. The youngster was trying desperately not to cry; he knew that kids sometimes got lost in the forest and never returned. The boy scratched his legs and arms repeatedly. The mosquitos hungrily sought his blood and he killed as many of them as he could. The bloodsuckers even bothered his black dragon who was almost invisible in the darkness of the trees, only its bright orange irises lit up the night. It killed the insects that landed on its head by squashing them against the tree.

“
I’m scared Kingster. If morning could only hurry up and come maybe we could find our way home. Try not to scream too loud if a vampire shows up. He might drink all my blood and then I’ll be a vampire too. Maybe I’ll go home and eat my sister; she’s a big bully anyway. She took a knife and cut up my baseball glove just because you broke the head off her stupid doll.”

Kingster snorted releasing multiple boogers which stuck to a nearby tree, and the dragon sneezed, shooting out even more. Then the beast took a sneezing fit that made the boy laugh. The beast put its head back down forlornly; it was disappointed in itself because it didn’t know the way home either. They both heard a branch crack in the distance to their left, it was remote and perhaps the result of their over active imaginations.

“
Kingster, I, I, I know you’re allergic to vampires. But maybe it’s just a wolf and you could eat him for a snack. If I become a vampire I hope I don’t suck out all your blood. That’s kinda stupid because you have way too much blood for me to suck out huh?”

The dragon agreed.

“
Let’s go that way before it gets us.”

“
What’s this? What’s this?” Keith stuck his nose in the air and took in the scent as best he could. He could smell the sweat and stress of the officers; they were frightened of running into a vampire in that charcoal atmosphere. It was like a Quarter Pounder’s with Cheese and a Coke slowly approaching and it made his mouth water. The vampire could differentiate the red blood cells from the white, although the scents of the erythrocytes were more potent.

The vampire waited to see if the officers would continue on their current path, or if there would be some deviation from their current trajectory. Keith would have no qualms with running them down, but it would be more fun to simply sit on the mattress and observe their faces when they pushed their way through the trees. He saw a raccoon to his left, and he blurred and grabbed it by its tail and held it up as it scolded him. He took the animal by the tail and then knocked the life out of it on the ground.

The sound of the officers in the distance had begun to veer off in a different direction, and so it was clear that he would have to pursue them. It was a bit discouraging as he wanted his food to come to him. Keith shrugged and blurred short distances through the trees, and within a few seconds he was behind the officers. He kicked Officer Smith in the back and drove him face first into a fir tree, rendering him unconscious. Officer Brown was a big man and grabbed his Glock 19 hand sidearm as fast as he was able. The gun was loaded with fifteen wooden-tipped shells. He turned and managed to fire off a shot, unfortunately it went through Keith’s left earlobe. The officer had missed his one opportunity for a kill shot. The vampire rushed the officer with great speed, tearing out his throat and then commenced to feast hungrily upon his blood. The sound of his slurps flowed into the darkness. He drained Brown in less than sixty seconds.

Kingster finally managed to lead Ryan out of the forest and back to his front porch where two Officers with a K9 were preparing to commence searching for the child.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

DRACULA SAT OUTSIDE on his porch on Martin Street and staring across the road. Over the small bank was a brook with several mallard ducks into it. He could hear them quacking down there but couldn’t see them. It was a minimal annoyance and so the birds were ignored. He brought his Tosca Buffet clarinet up to his lips and started to play the instrument. Dracula had perfected its usage over the years, and the original music that was emitted from it was haunting and beautiful. The music played with one’s emotions, pulling them down into sadness. That was one advantage to being so bored that it was either perfecting the clarinet or running one’s head into a cement wall. A mortal only had the sand in an hourglass to measure one’s lifespan, but the Master had the entire desert in his. Dracula had been at it since 1843 when Klose adapted the Boehm flute key system to the instrument. He also recalled seeing Mozart utilize the clarinet in a symphony, perhaps for the very first time, but of that he couldn’t be sure. The thoughts deflected his dismal mood but no one in the world could top his talent for the instrument, not even Artie Shaw.

Dracula was wearing the reddest Turkish bathrobe. It was another rainy day in Moncton and the humidity was high. July had not been very pleasant in this part of the world either, too much precipitation. Dracula stared off like a man in a coma, inwardly falling into the great chasm of his decaying existence with nothing to grasp onto. Moon Diamond or rather Zacharia was restless. The music made the cat want to cry.

The wind increased in intensity and it would soon blow in a heavier shower. The air made the tail of his robe dance and Zacharia had to force himself not to pounce on it. Dracula took control of a crow that was making a racket on the power line overhead; he made the bird fly down onto the sidewalk and act like a chicken, strolling around with its head bobbing. He showed a slight smile from its indignity, as if a crow could experience such a thing. He even compelled it to cackle like a chicken. Another black crow flew in to assess the situation, and he seemed puzzled by the antics. The crow watched curiously as his compatriot went through its abnormal routine. When the bird was released from his mind control, they both quickly flew off into the gray sky.

“
Is there anything that tastes better than mice?” Dracula didn’t look down at the cat but could imagine his expression.

Zacharia flicked his tail. “That is not the least bit funny Master.” He placed his thoughts into Dracula’s mind now that they had managed a connection the Master was receptive to all of his mind machinations, and the actual cat’s as well. “I have absolutely no dignity remaining whatsoever. I don’t know why I continue with this existence.”

“
Cats are loved and admired by many, though I do admit that I wouldn’t want to be one.”

The two crows that had flown off returned with three others and sat comfortably on the power line gazing down at Dracula. The birds sensed his strength but didn’t know what to make of it. The five black feathered friends stared down in wonder and adjusted their positions but remained silent. Dracula looked up at them and acknowledged their presence which made them all uneasy. When Moon Diamond gazed up at them, and placed images in their heads of what he would like to do to them, they all flew off in the direction of Champlain Mall without making a sound.

“
Oh, don’t get your tail in a knot. Dignity has nothing to do with it. You are where you are due to your own fault. You’ve only two choices as I see it. Live or die. I’ve imagined billions of things in my long life, but never imagined you with a tail. It looks good on you. You’re a very attractive cat.”

“
Oh ha ha. I’m laughing on the inside and coughing up fur balls on the outside from the inside. I should use your leg as a scratching post.”

“
We could take this show on the road. You’d be the smartest cat in the world. And now ladies and gentlemen, the cat will now turn the television channel to Animal Planet. And then you would come in and utilize the remote.”

“
Master, may I receive permission to tell you to shut up?”

“
Permission denied.” Dracula was quiet and pensive for multiple minutes. His mind wandered to far off places and tropical destinations. He focused on long lost loves and feelings of yesteryear. Suddenly, he turned his head rapidly to the left, faster than any human ever could. “There’s a mouse down there. Why don’t you go get him? I can hear the cat screaming about it.”

The Lilac Point Siamese cat looked annoyed. He sat and attempted to show indignation. “Do you think I don’t know that? Let me eat in peace. I am trying my best to ignore that tasty rodent. Although I do love the challenge of the chase.”

“
That delicious mouse is making fun of you. It doesn’t believe that you are able to apprehend it. It’s a cocky little bastard. I imagine it’s tasty. Look, it’s giving you the finger, metaphorically.”

Zacharia cocked his head and listened with his cat ears. The gray mouse rustling in the grass sounded moderately loud to him, and he could smell its musty goodness. Moon Diamond’s influence was a lot stronger whenever there was a rodent in the area, and the Master was playing with that knowledge. It was two against one.”

“
He is delicious isn’t he?”

“
Just like chicken with a fur coat.”