Memories - Act 2
Nassau Avenue, Freeport, December 11, 1980
He didn’t know how they got in. He had been busy doing other things up in his room when he heard the noise downstairs. He crept down the stairs to peer through the bars of the bannister. His eyes grew wide and his mouth hung open. He wanted to shout to them, but he was too afraid. He was smart enough to know there was nothing he could do anyway. He was only six. This was the first time he had been only six instead of already six. The sight in the front hall below him made six seem a very small number.
Mom and dad were desperately trying to keep hold of each other’s hand, but the men were strong and there were lots of them. The men were laughing and breaking things around the house. They smashed the lamps and broke the hanging light in the hall. They laughed as they did all of this, like they found it funny. It wasn’t funny. Even though Matt had wanted to break some of these lamps before – had wanted to act crazy and laugh out loud, he didn’t like the way these men were doing it. And mom and dad looked really scared.
Matt watched as one of the men, not so big looking, walked up to dad and hit him in the face. Mom screamed and fought against the two men who held her, but the men laughed. Then the man who had hit dad punched him in the stomach. Dad doubled over and coughed, then the man hit him in the face with his knee. Matt wanted to run down and hit the man, kick him maybe, but he was paralyzed with fear. He couldn’t even tear his eyes away. That is, not until the man went to mom.
Matt’s eyes widened as the man leaned over mom’s shoulder, looking like he was going to kiss her. Kiss her on the neck. But one of the other, bigger men handed him something shiny – a knife. Matt sucked in a breath and thought he was going to cry. Instead, he closed his eyes tight and turned his head away. When the screaming started — his mother in pain, his father... Matt covered his ears, clenching his jaw and curling up on the stairs. After a few minutes, he heard his mothers screams die away and his father’s shouts were silenced.
He slowly opened his eyes and mom and dad were gone. There was only one of the big men left in the front hall and the rest seemed to have gone to the living room. Very slowly, Matt moved down the stairs to where he could see into the living room. He let out a little whimper of terror as, in the darkness of the livingroom, he could see his mother’s arm hanging down from the coffee table where she lay.
With a cheer, the men raised cups they held and they drank. Then, with a spark of hope, Matt heard his dad’s voice again, a hoarse and desperate pleading voice begging them to leave mom alone.
With wide eyes, Matt watched as dad was dragged into view in the living room, kneeling and looking up at the man who had killed mom. Farther down the stairs, Matt could now hear clearly what was being said. The man’s voice was cold and cruel. To hear him speaking to dad like that made Matt’s chest tighten with anger.
“Your wife,” the vampire said simply, “was delicious. You were a lucky man. Emphasis on the were.” He laughed a little with the vampires around him as he refilled his glass from the dripping corpse. “Don’t get me wrong — she still is delicious: she’ll keep for a good twenty minutes. You were a lucky man because until tonight you hadn’t met me.”
“Leave her alone,” dad said, his voice choking. “Don’t touch her—”
“I’ll touch her however I choose,” the vampire grinned, sliding his hands all over the corpse. Matt couldn’t see what was going on, but dad’s voice hardened into a shaking fury as the big men laughed and the arm of his mother he could see jerked a little. At first Matt thought she was still alive, but when the man who had killed her came back into view, his hands all red, her arm stopped moving.
“You bastard!” dad cried, falling to the floor as one of the big men kicked him in the back. They continued kicking him as he lay on the floor until he was barely moving.
The man who had killed mom ordered the bigger men to hold dad up. They pulled him up onto his knees and stretched out his arms. Pulling on his hair, they tilted his head back. His mouth hung open as he gasped for breath. Matt clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from shouting out as the man with the red hands took a sword from one of the bigger men and held it, pointed down dad’s throat.
Dad tried to say something, but the man didn’t give him a chance, plunging the sword down his throat, all the way to the hilt. Dad gurgled a spray of blood, then fell back to the carpet, the sword’s handle sticking out of his mouth.
Matt was gasping for breath, tears filling his eyes, he wanted to cry – wanted to scream how much he hated the man who had done this, but he was too afraid. With his eyes tightly shut, he scrambled back up the stairs to his room. He closed the door and ran for his closet. He slid behind the hanging clothes, wriggling behind the boxes of Christmas decorations to curl into a little ball and cry as quietly as he could.
Pierce watched out of the corner of his eye as the child ran up the stairs. He wiped the man’s blood from his hands into his hair, slicking it back so it would stay. He held up his hands and ordered the others. “Eat, enjoy: the night is ours.”
When they had begun to gather around the corpses, Pierce slipped out past the front hall and slowly made his way through the darkness up the stairs. Sometimes he liked to enjoy a little bite just for himself. The child he had seen was little more than a mouthful, but his blood would no doubt be extra sweet. Perhaps there were other children up there... A nice plump toddler... a juicy baby... Pierce licked his lips. Of course when the screaming started, he’d have to share...
The vampire moved as silently as he could down the hall to where the scent of boy-child was strongest. Baseball cards and bubble gum. New shoe smell and the leather of a baseball glove. The Prince ran his hands through his blood-matted hair. He approached the door with the low door handle and pushed it open. It swung in silently and Pierce scanned the darkness with his yellow vampire eyes. His sensitive nose picked up the intoxicating smell of terror coming from the closet.
With a wolfish grin, the vamp stalked towards the closet door, sliding it open without a sound. Drinking in the fear which filled the small space, he pushed aside the clothes hanging behind the door. There you are... He shoved a box aside and Matt cried in terror.
Pierce bared his teeth and grinned in the most fearsome way he knew how, sucking up the terror of the little tear stained face. He loved this part.
Matt held his arms over his head, sobbing in terror. Then, amid the fear, another emotion curdled up and flared in the boy’s eyes. Vengeance. “I – I wish you weren’t so scary,” he sobbed between gasps, curling into an even tighter ball.
Pierce frowned a little, the darkness of the closet suddenly striking him. He tentatively reached for his forehead and felt the smooth contours of his human face. He bit his lower lip and felt his human canines.
The vampire took a step back out of the closet and the crying child inside and concentrated. He envisioned hate and hunger – blood and lust. Nothing. Frowning deeply, he glared at the carpet, trying to bring out the demon inside him again. Nothing. He stepped back into the closet where the boy was still crying. He could still smell the terror. Now, though, instead of a nourishing milk the terror was an acrid fume.
Pierce nearly fell backwards, stumbling away from the terrified child as nausea overwhelmed him. He gripped his gut and staggered from the room, heading for the stairs. What the fuck was going on?
Matt swallowed his fear and peered up from where he huddled in the back of his closet. The scary man was gone. But Matt was not alone in the closet.
“There, there, honey. Everything’ll be alright now.” The woman said soothingly. “He’ll never scare you again.”
Matt swallowed. Her presence didn’t evoke fear, or even confusion. She was lovely. A comforting face like his mother. Her voice was soft and reassuring. “Who are you?” he asked uncurling himself and wiping his sleeve across his red eyes.
“Call me Hallie.” She ran her hand through his hair, looking into his wide, worried eyes. “I’ll take care of you now.”
Nassau Avenue, Freeport, March 16, 1988
“Halfrek,” Matt crossed his arms with a sigh. “Halfrek...”
The justice demon scowled, looking him up and down. “What?”
The teen raised his eyebrows. “The face...?”
Halfrek felt her fear-inspiring demon face and laughed. “Oh, sorry,” it shifted back to her casual human appearance. “I had a job downtown... tis the season for vengeance.” She tossed her hair slightly and reached for the orange juice carton.
Matt scoffed. “It’s always the season for vengeance.”
“So, how was school today?” she evaded, pouring herself a tall glass of juice. “Learn anything distressing and disappointing?”
“The usual,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You were at St. Petersburg, right?”
Hallie frowned. “When?”
Matt frowned in irritation. “In 1918 — Bolshevik revolution and all that?”
The demon grinned broadly. “Ah yes, the Romanov’s. Those were the days. We did some good work back then... changing the world and all.” She looked oddly across the kitchen table to where Matt was staring at her. “I wasn’t mentioned in your history books, was I?”
Matt shook his head. “No... it’s just that they tell it a different way.”
Halfrek sipped her juice. “Yes... time will do that to a good story. Just remember what I told you. First hand accounts of history are hard to come by these days.”
The teen nodded. “Yeah, I know. I appreciate it.” There was silence for several minutes as they divvied up the cookies on the plate before them. “Hallie,” he said hesitantly, “is it okay if Hanna comes by for a little while this afternoon?”
“Oh, honey,” the demon said, a little disappointed. “I told you not to pursue that... it can only end in evisceration.” She finished her juice, then pulled a small bottle from her jacket. She emptied the clear contents into the juice glass and swallowed it at once, making a face. “And as much as I love you, honey, I’m not above getting Anyanka down here to beat some sense into your with your own rib bone.”
Matt glared at her, knowing the threat was sincere. “I would never hurt her,” he said angrily. “She’s the only one I can talk to. The only one who understands me.”
“Oh, honey,” Halfrek touched his arm gently. “I understand you.”
“The only human who understands,” he added spitefully.
“Ouch,” Hallie grinned. “That one hurt.” Standing, she walked to the sink to deposit her empty glass. “Sweety, I have to go out tonight... you’ll be alright to order a pizza or something?”
Matt’s gaze dropped. “Yeah... as usual.”
Halfrek ignored the last and smiled. “Great. See you tomorrow.”
Lifting her arms, she flared her hands and disappeared in a spectacle Matt had long ago found disinteresting. At least she was gone. As usual. The house was his. As usual.
Matt left his glass on the table and wandered around the great emptiness of the house he had grown up in. Very often he found himself the sole resident as Hallie was often off granting wishes or visiting Arashmahaar. She only came home for interviews or to sign report cards. He dropped his gaze. He was luckier than some, though. No overbearing parents to meddle in his personal life. No one to smother him with affection or to abuse him. Just a demon.
He went to the casette player and stuffed a tape into the machine, hitting play. The music began to play, loud enough to break glass. As usual. Halfrek hated it when he annoyed the neighbors.
With the music blaring in the backgrounf, he moved to the telephone on the wall, lifting the receiver and dialing the Kilpatrick house. He smiled as after half a ring Hanna answered.
“Hey,” was all he needed to say.
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