No More Blood

[Hinton]

A quick note before I post the story:

This was written in Feb 2002 for a short story writing contest. The rules were that each writer had 30 days to write and submit a short story that was 2,500 words or less and it had to be within the chosen theme. In this case, the theme was "No More Blood". This was my entry. It took second place.

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He waited as he always did.

He stood, as he had almost every night for a year now, under the street lamp, its yellow light casting his features in shadow and reflecting off his jet black hair. He shrugged and drew his coat tighter about him. The chilly night air didn’t affect him; it was just habit; a way to appear normal. Few cars passed by on the street and the drivers of those that did never spared him a glance. After all, it was a “bad” neighborhood; staring at someone could get a person shot.

The sound of heels clicking on pavement came from behind him. He stared forward, letting his other senses gather information about the person approaching. Perfume. Should be a woman. The clicking of the heels was light, made by someone weighing no more than say, 120 pounds. He felt confident that it was indeed a woman who had now stopped directly behind him.

“Hey, mister,” she said. Her voice was soft and melodic, but the tone underneath betrayed her, revealing boredom and a touch of despair.

“Yes?” he asked without turning.

“Lookin’ for a good time, maybe? Maybe you need a friend or somethin’?”

“No,” he said and slowly turned. She took an involuntary step back. It was a natural reaction and one he fully expected. “I need something else from you.”

She tried to smile, but it kept faltering. “Look, buddy, I’m not lookin’ for trouble.”

He smiled and his voice was soft when he spoke. “I know.” He took a step toward her. “I know exactly what you mean.” He reached out, took hold of one of her delicate hands and gently brushed the back of it. “So much pain in your life, dear woman. So many worries, so many trials.”

When her eyes met his, her body suddenly relaxed.

“I can help ease that pain; I can make things better.”

“Yes,” she said in a whisper.

He drew her close, put an arm around her shoulder, and slowly walked her down the street. They turned into an alley where light seemed to be not only absent, but actually sucked in like a black hole. His eyes adjusted in a way that hers never could.

As he pushed her back against a wall, he knew any thoughts of flight were long gone from her mind. He bent his head down and nuzzled her neck with his nose.

“Yes,” she whispered again.

Her scent was intoxicating. He drew his mouth open, the sharp points revealed, and bit into her neck. As the blood pulsed rapidly into his mouth, he felt it starting again and drew away quickly. The woman’s eyes were glassy and begging for him to continue, but he would have to stop.

“Damn it,” he said as he let go of her. She slid down the wall and crumpled into a heap at his feet. “This has got to stop.”

He stood there for a moment, looking at her vacant smile. Besides a couple of punctures in her neck, she’d be all right.

He left the alley, cursing.

“You’re my doctor,” he said, “fix it.”

Dr. Morris turned on his small stool and faced him.

“Jake, I wish I could.” He stood up, walked over, and peered into Jake Turner’s eyes, first one, then the other. “However, I have never heard of a vampire being allergic to anything other than the usual.”

“Well just look at me.” Jake waved a hand in front of his face, which was covered with small, bright red spots. In fact, they covered most of his body and they itched horribly. “Every damn time I try and feed, this happens.”

Morris returned to his stool and rolled over to the small counter that overflowed with tongue depressors, ear swabs, and bandages. An open file took up the rest of the space and Morris wrote in it.

“When did this start?”

Jake thought for a moment. “A few weeks ago I guess.”

Morris looked at him then wrote some more. “Was it after a particular person?”

Jake shook his head. “No. Come to think of it, this started during a dry spell. I think I went about four days without feeding before my first rash appeared. Then, when I tried to feed, it only got worse.”

Morris nodded. Jake scratched his face, arms, legs, and anywhere else he could while he watched the doctor scribble. Morris was a human, but he was trusted among the vampire community. Not that vampires needed a doctor very often, but occasionally one might come across a human who hadn’t taken care of himself. Finding clean blood was getting harder every year.

“Okay, I’ll run some tests and see what I can come up with. Offhand though, I’d say it’s an allergic reaction of some kind.”

“Great.”

“Come back tomorrow night. In the meantime, try not to scratch too much. It’ll only make it worse.”

When Jake returned the next night, he hoped for an answer.

He got one.

“You are definitely allergic to human blood.”

Jake didn’t speak; he could only stare.

“Most likely you’re having a reaction to types of blood that are different from your own, but I can’t say for sure without further testing. So, you have a choice: either stop feeding on human blood, or live with the flare-ups. I will tell you this though, the reactions could get worse.”

“How much worse?”

Morris shrugged. “In humans such severe reactions would be deadly. In your case, it’d just make you wish that someone would come along with a wooden stake.”

“Oh, very funny. Come on doc, isn’t there a pill I can take or something?”

“No, Jake, there isn’t. Your body doesn’t function like a human’s. I can work on it, but something like this would have to be done in secret and it could take years to find a way to combat it.” The doctor looked at the floor and rubbed his hands together. “Now, for the really bad news.”

“Oh god.”

“You’re not the only one.”

“What?”

Morris nodded. “Since yesterday, I’ve had two others come in with the same reactions as you. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that it was some kind of epidemic. A vampire plague, if you will.”

“And?”

“And what? There’s nothing I can do except run some tests and see what I can come up with.”

“And how long will that take?”

Morris shrugged. “Like I said, it could take years.”

“And in the meantime?”

Morris smiled. “No more blood for you.”

Jake stood up and moved towards the door. “Perfect,” he said as he left.

Morris smiled at the now closed door. Yes, he thought, it was perfect.

[Duende]

Wow, that was great! Are you planning to expand it at all? I want to hear more about the "good" doc and just what he's up to.

It's about time the writing room got some "new blood"!

:eating: More!

[Nathan Caroland]

Hey, good stuff, and I agree with Duende, it is time to see some new blood and works in here. Hop to!

[Hinton]

Thanks you two.

It seems to be a common theme for me to stop while other people think I should continue. I wrote one short story called "Tell the World Not To End" and almost every comment I received about it was "So...what happens next?" Well, there isn't a "next"; that's it.

I write what's in my head because if I try to force it beyond what's there, it turns into a really, really bad story.

That being said, I might work on it and see if I can come up with a continuation of it. If I do, I'll post it.

[jondalar]

That was excellent. though agree with duende and FF, need more!