OV: The Original Vampire (Book #1) (4 page)

Vinnie nodded and grimaced. He acted like an idiot to deduce any friction.

“Yeah
man, shit, you’re Vinnie Santos. You killed my uncle’s best friend.” The guy said, taking a few steps forward.

Vinnie felt the fire in his veins from the Crystal. It gave a n
ice buffer between reality and himself. Vinnie should have been scared, instead he wanted to thank the guy for making him feel higher. The Crystal reacted to adrenalin and made Vinnie buzz and tingle, as the Dopamine lit every cell in his body.

Josie
realized they were in a bad situation and stepped to the side and watched the fire. The man was partially drunk and forgot for a moment why he was upset. “Shit. You’re Vinnie Swaller.” He said, taking a drink. Within seconds, beers were thrown to the ground and fists and legs were thrown. The drunk guy faked his intoxication just as much as Vinnie had faked being an idiot.

Vinnie was in the middle of what looked like a swarm of bees. The embers of the fire danced towards the sky as Josie screamed.
The Loggerjocks swung wildly. Josie sat with her mouth open, as Vinnie held his ground. Every minute or so a Loggerjock fell down. They fell down like pawns on a chess board. There was a strange humming noise coming from Vinnie. His eyes were jet black and reflected the flames of the fire. He started to spin around. He held something in his hand that flashed from the fire. Another Loggerjock fell down. He didn’t move. Then another, until it was Vinnie and Josie staring at each other. The fire cracked peacefully, as dark figures lied around the fire like driftwood.

Vinnie walked down the trail as Josie looked at the death camp one last time before she followed. They walked in silence. The moon balanced on a tree top in the sky.

“About that stuff you gave me.” Josie said as they walked.

“What was it?”

Vinnie stopped and turned around.

“It’s called
Draksblood.” He said.

“Well, what is it?” She asked.

“The loggers use it to drive all night. They make more money that way. They’re sick Josie. My friends found syringes on the side of the road, along with bottles of urine they throw out their window, because they’re in a hurry delivering dead forest to the bank.” He said.

“What the hell.” Josie said.

“We have their formula Josie and were going to use it against them. We have added some Shamanistic ingredients to the formula since this area was once prevalent with Indians, their power is still here.”

“Trucker urine?”
Josie asked.

“No, boiled down syringes of Crystal
Meth, and the shamanic qualities. . .”

They walked in silence for a while. Vinnie could feel Josie thinking. It was the middle of the night. The forest felt different, more menacing. If Vinnie wasn’t there Josie would be frozen with fear.

“Okay. Let’s do more.” Josie said.

They stopped in the middle of the trail. He unfolded a piece of foil and produced a blue flame underneath it. A clear rock dissolved in the middle of the foil. Josie could see incandescent white smoke snake upwards into Vinnie’s mouth. The smoke looked like a devil’s forked tongue. Then, he placed the foil under her mouth as he lit the flame and she inhaled.

Her head became light as the forest seemed to come to life. The branches waved and the river was audible. She could smell the musky fur of an animal miles away. Vinnie’s face was porcelain in the moonlight, as she pushed away the foil in his hand and engulfed his lips with hers. She planted his feet to the earth by her lips. He trembled with nerves, passion and Draksblood.

She pulled him away from the trail and pulled his hair downwards until they landed on a bed of moss. Her pale but tone thighs rose around him like petals of a flower.
She took control and dominated his essence. They playfully wrestled for dominance, as one would win top position towards climax.

Josie lied victorious on her back. Sweat rolled down her sides and dripped onto the moss. She had forgotten about everything else, except for her primal needs. Vinnie lied next to her, his chest rose quickly up and down. He wore a boyish smile, the same one he wore before the logging rally. She drifted off into delicate sleep. Her eyelids danced with REM as the images of dream began.

She was a young girl walking with her parents towards the Paramount Theater in Seattle. She held her dad’s hand. It was winter and there was a storm approaching, as large drops of rain hit them. They rushed towards the gold doors of the theater. The doorman wore a tall black top hat and wore eyeliner. The lobby was laced with red velvet. Urbanites and socialites awaited the show drinking in the bar. People rushed to use the bathroom when the lights flashed. The lights flashed again to indicate the show was to begin in five minutes.

They sat in their assigned seats. Then the lights went out. When they came back on the Phantom of the Opera was whispering menacingly. Josie sat transfixed and held her father’s hand tighter. There was fog hovering over the stage. Then, halfway through the show the huge chandelier broke free and swung over the audience. Josie was mesmerized.

During a love scene, the phantom pleaded for his love to be requited. But, in the background, near the back curtain, through a thin layer of smoke there was a grown Vinnie grinning at her. His face seemed frozen into a grin, like a theatrical mask. Josie stared back. She thought it was part of the show. Vinnie had scared her more than the phantom, because he just stared at her with that grin.

A branch broke in the woods and awoke Josie. Vinnie lied on his side watching her. Josie felt eighteen again. There was solidarity now towards her enthusiastic thirst for life and living things. She jumped on top of Vinnie and grabbed his throat playfully:

“Now, where were we?”

She pushed her hips down, as Vinnie closed his eyes and moaned in ecstasy. She felt warm waves rush through her. If it were water she wouldn’t miss it, if it was his love she would hold it forever.

Birds started to chirp in the distance as the beginnings of light crept over the hill. Josie always hated to see the next day approaching living with Tom, because a new day was just as bad as the last one. Tom would
be scared to death facing reality hung-over and would turn the house upside down looking for another beer, or a shot left in a bottle. She would have to talk him into going to work every day.

Vinnie became focused as he realized there wasn’t much time before the sun made its appearance. They gathered themselves and walked briskly down the trail. Josie felt surprisingly athletic, as she kept up
with him and wasn’t winded.

They made it to the river. Steam rose from the ripples. The sun was on Vinnie. He seemed thinner, more cut. His eyes seemed black when he turned back to look at Josie. He walked into the middle of the rushing current and stood there.

“Vinnie, what are you staring at?”

The water created little waves around his legs. He stood motionless, staring down at the water.
Josie watched and decided to sit down. A large raven landed on a limb and watched him as well. There was something happening, Josie felt it. It was animals and humans playing cat and mouse.

There was a flash in the water as Vinnie thrust a hand down into the water. The little muscles in his forearm vibrated with intensity as he pulled up a Salmon. He held it up and smiled at her.

“I’m starving,” He said. “It’s been at least a week.”

Josie couldn’t believe her ears, but didn’t question him. He knelt down over the fish and began cutting. Josie only watched the muscles in his back.

“Close your eyes.” He said.

He turned around and walked up to her. There was a translucent ruby colored filet on a flat black rock that he found in the river to use as a platter. The filet also rested on a bed of edible flowers and greens.

“Sushi.” Vinnie said.

The Salmon tasted sweet, like butter and melted in their mouths. Dragonflies hovered over the water.

“Those are my cousins.” Vinnie said.

The water and trees pulsated with life; e
very bite of sushi embodied life, the smell of sex enlivened life, and the absence of Tom’s abuse entitled life. They enjoyed the moment before embarking upon shelter. The sun was burning Vinnie internally without Josie noticing.

They walk along a cliff, as Vinnie looks for a place to rest. There are formations in the rock and some of them are deep pockets where they could rest. Some of the caves have had bears using them as dens.

One of the pockets is dark and is an indicator that it goes deep into the cliff. Vinnie walks in and turns around. “It’s okay. This one is unoccupied.” They lie down on a smooth rock next to a little vein of water. Dripping water echoes in the cave, as Vinnie lies on his back and holds Josie in his arms. The last ray of light disintegrates into the sand, as they fall into deep sleep.

After they awake, Josie is restless. She has been intimate with Vinnie and doesn’t even know him. She only has an impression of
him, a made-up fable of what he might be after all those years, but she didn’t really know.

Josie asked: “Vinnie, who are you? I never got to know you.” She felt embarrassed immediately, but let the question slide.

“I grew up in Southern California,” He began. “I lived on a swing set in the backyard. There was a beam of light that moved through the sky and I watched it every night mesmerized. One day, while my parents and I went for a Sunday drive, we found it. It was a spotlight in front of a car dealer. That was my first heartbreak. . .Also, ambulances intrigued me. They were like flashing elevator boxes that transported life to death. I had no concept of death though, as my family migrated North on my fifth birthday I thought the dead deer on the side of the road were sleeping dogs.”

Josie listened while tucking his long hair behind his ear.

He took a breath. “There was a song that came on the radio while my dad drove North, called Xanadu. It was kind of like Disco, but it had a sad mystical quality. At that time, my dad had a bloody nose and was spitting blood out the window. It seemed violent to me. But, I felt safe with my family. It was Southern California that was scary.” Vinnie smiled.

“You never went back?” Josie asked.

“When I was eighteen I left home for good. I went to Santa Cruz to surf. I had my father’s hand-me-down pickup with my surfboard in the back. I met another kid my age. We drove around. We met a gang of Skinheads, they showed me how to make a bullet-proof vest with a big phonebook. They took us to a party in the woods. There was a bonfire. There were Skinheads moshing around the flames listening to thrash metal music. It was very primal, almost amusing until I noticed on the edge of the party a few Skinheads kicking a body. One Skinhead had a can of gasoline. I walked closer and saw that it was a homeless man they were kicking. They were going to light him on fire.”

Josie was silent. Her wet eyes reflected in the newly arisen moonlight.

“I rushed them and one went down. His eye was bleeding and he was yelling for his friends. The other Skinhead filled gasoline in his mouth and lit the spray. The flame burnt my eyebrows off.

“What happened to the homeless man?” Josie asked.

“I grabbed him off the ground. He was drunk and couldn’t walk. My friend carried him out while I swung wildly to keep the Skinheads at bay.”

Josie was speechless. Vinnie was peeling away many layers of his stoic personae. “Okay. I’m sorry. Back to you being a boy.” Josie said, trying to smile.

“When I was eight, my parents felt bedtime should be earlier than my tastes and put me to bed. I fidgeted until I began to hum songs and rock back and forth on the bed. The motion of the rocking soothed me. I created all sorts of entertainment for myself, until I became obsessed with staring at objects. The longer I stared at the objects the more they took on a life of their own. I could make them tremble with energy, or I could block them out of my vision. I was curious if I could summon people. I began intently watching the doorway to my room, waiting for someone to appear. I sang songs to the dead and waited.

One night, I was staring at the carpet in my room. There was an orange beam that shone from the nightlight in the bathroom into my bedroom. Suddenly, a man made out of the orange light entered my room. He was dressed like a 40’s businessman. He came to my bed. I tried screaming but there was only enough air for breathing. He knelt down and placed his hand on my forehead and said: ‘ah, the warmth,’ that’s it. That’s all he said, but. . .”

“What?” asked Josie.

“He kissed me.”

“On the mouth?!”

“The neck.
It tingled. It felt like a needle was pulling out my blood. I felt aggressive and horny afterwards.”

Josie sat quietly, as Vinnie pulled out the tinfoil wrapper. He creased it down the middle and placed
Draksblood on it. The flame of the lighter danced like a blue flower under the foil. Vinnie exhaled the silver-white stream towards the cave’s ceiling, as Josie could hear his heartbeat quicken in the silent cavern.

“Let’s get going.” Vinnie said.

Nature greeted them with a breath of fresh air when they exited. It was getting dark. They had to walk two mountains back to their camp at Storm King. They walked for hours up switchbacks. Once in a while they stopped at vantage points, caught their breath, and kissed. It seemed like every mile they walked, the closer they got. Josie’s body was transforming as well; her waist was getting smaller and her arms more tone. She was more confident in asking what she wanted.