Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Fear of the Dark – Chapter 1.9 - I Must Feed

“My love of God might have been the only true ally that I had in this new found afterlife. I was completely entrenched in the idea that I had to find out how to kill the hideous beast that I had become, and do that twice before more hideous beats were created. That little fiend that I had created appeared to be curious of making a Vampire die, but not in the same way in which I had. Of course I was living with the reality that I was as new to this as he was, albeit larger. I hadn't yet realized that my proportionate size added to my strength and the supernatural nature of my being was simply in the fact that I existed, and not that I had any real abilities that weren't simply a manifestation of many unexplainable gifts. I could lift a car, but then again a human my size probably just as easily could lift a car I would assume. Then there were the things that immortality made more possible, but not a complete given reality,” Timmy took a drink of water. “I had already deduced at this point in my early existence that I probably could jump from rooftop to rooftop across a New York city street, purely by my strength, but the fact that missing didn't lend to me a great sacrifice it increased my courage to try. This was the secret of it all, and unfortunately that little freak knew this, and wasn't ashamed of what he is.”

The reverend pointed out to Timmy that the writer actually did have some philosophical if not theological acumen. Both reverends were fascinated equally by the evolution of the monster that was sharing this diary with them, but it probably ended at that point. Perhaps it was in the mannerisms of both of them that reflected the awe that Timmy held in the beast and more of a contempt that the reverend did.

“I knew that one thing would most likely destroy a Vampire, for some reason it came through my mind like an instinct that it was important to remain intact. My mind had heard that the separation of a head from a Vampire's neck was a definite instance of destruction to them. In other forms I had heard that the utter destruction was the means to the end. Fire and the like, but setting anyone on fire in New York City was going to attract attention, and as well I was a little more preoccupied with keeping the dead woman on the ground from rising to our Hell as I had caused on that child,” and Timmy gave the reverend a look that asked the question of whether to continue or not. He was assured to continue, “The human, or recently human body is more fragile to a creature like me. With agony in my heart I simply pulled the head off of the dead woman in the street. What happened next was not expected in the least, as the body that was once attached to the head in my hand started lurching around and reaching towards me. The head that I had separated was hissing at me, and the eyes had opened wide. Despite the fact that she hadn't yet turned into the freak that was holding her head out of it's body's reach. It had already become immortal, and perhaps there is a 'resting' period as the body goes from one plain to the next. This posed another problem as destroying her was already complicated, and I was still clueless about it all. I was losing my mind slowly through this endeavor, but that innate bravery of immortality kept my cool. Smashing the head against the nearest wall didn't stop the body from slithering along the ground towards it. There was a certain level of zombie like recent death in the movements of the body, and as weird as it sounds I was so new to my predicament that I remained a bit afraid of this. I stomped down on the leg and my weight held it into place, but it didn't stop the body from struggling to regain its head. Thoughtlessly I reached down and ripped one of the arms from the socket. My new found clarity on life and death and that which is violation of the sanctity of life was jaded beyond repair, for I thought nothing of what I was doing. More over I think I was losing my ability to care about what I was doing, while at the same time desperately caring about doing it. Now I was standing on a writhing body, had a wriggling arm in my hand, and a shrieking head about 30 feet away.

“This was astounding to me, and I was partially afraid to do any more separating as it would become far to difficult for me to control many more body parts at one time. I held my stomach in as I started peeling the flesh from the bones on the arm. The sheer agony in me over the fact that what I was doing was superhuman yet at the same time completely without humanity was slipping away from me. Then without getting the least bit sick about it, I started ripping the flesh into the smallest pieces I could. The arm finally did go limp and dead, after a minute or so. The body continued until I started doing the same to it. As I shredded the flesh with my grotesque claws parts of the body started dying off as they were thoroughly depleted. When the body was finally destroyed beyond ability to regenerate the head finally stopped alerting the world to a Vampire birth. I was completely exhausted by the time I had destroyed the body, and didn't even have the energy to look for my child, and that scared me thoroughly. I had no clue, or ability to stop whatever chaos he was creating, and as I had the brain of a college educated individual to cling to, he would obviously have nothing more than the carnal needs of a child to fall back on. Wrapped up in a supernatural being that probably, albeit for all I know truthfully, without the ability to die, or be punished for what he does.”

Timmy was in shock as he had finished reading the destruction of the newly turned. He looked at the reverend sitting across from him, and was part afraid, part in need of reassurance as the reverend looked back at him. He shrugged. Timmy simply couldn't fathom how easily the reverend took the explanation of evil as it was starting to turn his own stomach. With realism in his voice the reverend said, “I imagine you are afraid of what is going to happen next?” then he immediately through out there, “Fascination with evil, or the grey area in between does not make any of us bad, it makes us human. With that you need to know what evil is to stay out of it in general,” he took a moment to think about what he was going to say next, “God gives us absolutes for our human salvation, and this creature has to live outside of our narrow box. With that said I would call what he does, or what he is, evil, but from what we have both seen over the years, he definitely has a sense of salvation. Perhaps there is a learning curve that we both don't comprehend at this point, but the God that we talk about in this church openly, obviously wants us to know of it.”

That was probably exactly what Timmy needed so after clearing his throat, he continued, “God forgive me for what I could feel in every inch of my body that I needed to do. The gold cross around my neck felt so amazingly heavy as I stood up and accepted that I needed to do what that very cross was telling me that I shouldn't. I won't over glamorize what came next. I found a lower level human being, which becomes a big part of the convincing of self that what I do is in the name of God. He was barely within the distance that I had left within my body, and was beating up on the prostitute as he so obviously did every day. My morality deduced that the world would do better without this person on it, and I slunked over towards them both hunched over, in pain and looking like only a slightly larger version of any old street urchin without the benefit of adequate lighting,” and Timmy trailed off again as if he saw something hideous coming.

“The concept of 'a wrath of God' really loses its flavor when you are confronted with it in such a miserable way,” Timmy said from his own mind towards the reverend. The reverend nodded at him and waved his hand so that Timmy would finish the page. Timmy was still hesitant but continued on, “My mind was racing between carnal need, and actual practicality. Although he was roughly half of the size that my supernatural form took, he was still large enough to perhaps be of use after whatever comes next. The tattered old black trench coat that he was wearing had some sort of appeal, when compared to the tablecloth I had wrapped around me, and again the woman screamed as he hit her squarely in the stomach. I had lost all compassion for this 'other' creature as I drew nearer.

“He of course attempted to be menacing towards me, and the woman he was holding by the hair wasn't asking for help, so I would imagine this would be the time that most men would simply run away, terrified by the pimp and his whore. New York City had always been the great evil to a small town minister, such as myself, and I would have expected this type of a scenario. I had studied this type of scenario a thousand times over as I had been so utterly sheltered my whole life and thought that I would solve all of these ills with the love of God. It wasn't until I had somehow fallen so far from the grace of anything I had ever considered holy that I realized this creature in front of me waving his fist, and now brandishing a weapon of some sort at me, had never had any redemption or hope there of in his future. At this point in his short life he definitely didn't have any redemption in his future, and I had crossed over from that feeling that a loving God could solve all of the worlds ills. I was already convincing myself that a vengeful God might be able to cure this one ill in the world, and started praying that while I dealt with this in the name of God, or so I hoped in the name of God that the salvation of that poor young woman could be reached. At the very least if what is about to come doesn't scare her strait then her salvation might be an impossibility too.” Timmy started tearing up and appeared like he couldn't continue.

He hadn't even noticed that the reverend was at his side now and took the book. In his voice that sounded like the most powerful sermon the reverend read aloud from the book, “The first bullet hit my shoulder and didn't even push me back. I was continuing onward, and again this hopeless thug at the end of his life assumed that his menacing demeanor would terrify the average man. I imagine that it is safe to say that I am not an average man, but the prostitute was free from the clutching mass of hair and went running with everything she had. I was correct in assuming that her salvation could start because at the very least her sanity took over and forced her to escape the situation. A very small part of me thought that I had saved a life before I was about to take one, and another bullet hit me. The lunatic pimp didn't move as he continued to fire bullets into me. Some people will never learn, but I have learned at the very least that I am craven and I must feed so that I can hunt greater monsters in the dark.”   … To Be Continued