Home Sweet Home

John felt his strength come back and the pain of rehealing ended. "Fuck you," he said. He rolled over, knocking Lorna off him. Lorna now lay on the ground and John slowly stood over her. "Don't you ever come near me again," he told her pointing at her for emphasis before turning and walking away from her.

Lorna remained on the ground and watched John walk away.

When John had gotten in his car and drove away from the apartment building, he had no idea where he was going. He just had to get away from Lorna. His mind was a jumble of thoughts, all returning to the fact that his life was forever changed, literally. There was no way of changing the fact that he was a vampire and, according to what he knew from the movies, the never died.

He didn't want to live forever, he'd had enough pain and suffering to go on any more. And as bad a person he was, the thought of killing people to drink their blood was a moral war inside. Not that he was a religious man, but things like this really made one think. At one point in his life, the thought of living forever may have appealed to him, every one has that fantasy, but the older you get and the more hurt and stupid mistakes just made you think twice.

Now, here he was with that curse, and he had to find a way to end it.

For a moment, John let the world around him make itself aware of itself. He immediately knew where he was and what he was about to do. He had driven this road hundreds of times. It was the street he and his family had lived on.

John stomped the brakes, the tires squeaked a moment and John pulled the car over to the curb. A block and a half up he could see his old mail box and the flowers planted at their base. John sat and stared at the mailbox a moment trying to figure out why he had come here.

Did he come here to kill his wife and kids?

No, he was a fuck up for a husband, and an incompetent father, but he wasn't a killer. There had to be another reason.

It suddenly donned on him. He want this curse to end and he had to find a way to do it, so where is the best place for information like that?

The ever trusty internet, and this was the only place he knew of that he could get on-line.

He looked at the clock on the radio. It was 1:35. Every one in the house would be asleep, and he knew just how to get in without a key.

Years of being locked out of the when he was out getting high and not coming home until three in the morning had made him a master of breaking into his own house. He had always used a screwdriver, pried the door from the jam slightly and turned, popping the latch and opening the door. That was exactly what he would do tonight.

John went to the garage, which was never locked, and rummaged around the junk piled on the work bench until he found a flathead screwdriver. With screwdriver in hand, he walked around to the back of the house.

Two minutes later, he was sitting quietly at the computer in the family room.

John wasn't very computer literate, but he knew enough to get by. He clicked on the search box and typed in two words: Chatrooms, vampires.

After clicking on the search button, a long list of sites appeared. John spent the next few minutes scamming the list until one caught his eye.

The site was called The Lair, and was hosted by some one named VLADXVI. John clicked on the link and the screen was immediately replaced by a cartoon vampire, blood dripping from his long fangs, dressed in tight black clothes, a long cape flowed behind him and his white hair was forever caught blowing in the wind. Besides the vampire, the only other thing on the screen were the words Mythology and Chat flashing in bright red letters.

John moved the cursor to Chat. His finger hovered over the mouse button a moment before he finally pressed it. The screen was replaced with a chat room. VLADXVI must have been very popular, there were 35 other people in the room.

John sat back and watched the conversation, with no interest. They were mostly talking about what they were doing, one guy was trying to get any women in the room to cyber with him. The site was a complete joke. He was about to close out when VLADXVI finally acknowledged him.

VLADXVI: Y go quiet JOHN101?

John stared for a moment. He had no idea where to start.

JOHN101: I just had some vampire questions. I thought maybe I could get answers here.

VLADXVI: Ask away.

JOHN101: How do you kill a vampire?

There. Why not start with the real question on his mind.

VLADXVI: That depends on your school of thought. The Hollywood way is a stake through the heart, sunlight, garlic, and even forcing the vampire to look into a mirror.

JOHN101: And the other way?

VLADXVI: The only true way to kill a vampire is to destroy the heart, so a stake would do the trick.

JOHN101: what about sunlight? I thought that melted them.

VLADXVI: LOL. Sunlight doesn't kill vampires. Vampires are nocturnal, and have the night vision eyes, but it doesn't kill them. It just hurts their eyes. Just a way for Hollywood to distort the truth.

JOHN101: You talk as if they're real.

VLADXVI: And who's to say they ain't.

JOHN101: Okay, we got me there.

VLADXVI: So is that all you need John?

John thought for a moment. The whole reason he was here was to end the curse. Maybe this guy could help him. He had to at least try.

JOHN101: Just one more thing. How do you reverse the curse of the vampire?

VLADXVI: Many believe that if you kill the vampire who bite you, you'd turn human again.

JOHN101: Thanks.

VLADXVI: I'm not done though. There is a theory out there that Vampirism is actually a telekinetic virus and the only way to end the curse is to find the original host.

If John hadn't just had first hand knowledge that vampires really did exist, he'd think this guy was just talking out his ass. But at the same time, where was he getting his information. Was this guy a vampire too? He couldn't believe he was about to take this conversation where he was about to.

JOHN101: Can I ask you something else Vlad?

VLADXVI: Ask away.

JOHN101: How do you know these things? Are you a vampire?

VLADXVI: LOL. Come on John, you know as well as I do that vampires don't exist.

JOHN101: Then why do you talk like they do?

VLADXVI: In a way they do. Just look around you, there are real people who are so drawn to the idea of vampirism that they live the life style of a vampire. Until they either grow out of it, or die of old age.

JOHN101: But what about the idea of the telekinetic virus? Where does that come from?

VLADXVI: I read stories, the tabloid, and reports from this crazy guy who says he's the descent of the original Van Helsing. The original vampire hunter. He's a fake of course, but it's fun to lose yourself in the fantasy of it all.

John laughed under his breath. If this guy only knew.

JOHN101: Well thanks Vlad, you've been really helpful.

VLADXVI: YW. But if I may ask, what's this for?

John typed in the first thing that popped into his head.

JOHN101:I'm writing a vampire novel.

Without waiting for VLADXVI to write back, John closed out of the chatroom and shut the computer down.

When John finally got back to the apartment, the sun was starting to rise. He walked through the shattered door, thinking only momentarily that he should do something about it before walking straight for the bedroom.

Lorna was no where in sight. The best thing that had happened tonight. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was asleep.

Outside, the sun rose, crossed the sky and set again. Inside, John slept.

Once the sun had set, John awoke and sat on the bed a moment before he come face to face with the reality of what had to be done. He had to kill Lorna.

When Lorna came through the shattered door later that night, James was sitting on the couch. His elbows rested on his knees, his hands were clasped in front of him, and he stared absently at the floor.

James didn't look at her as she came in.

As she tried stepping over the larger chunks of door, she nearly lost her balance. "I'm sorry about last night John," she said. "And I'll clean up the mess."

John finally turned his head toward her and gave a short laugh. He set his hands on the couch as he stood. When he was standing, he turned and walked around the opposite side of the couch. "I should kick you out after last night. That did hurt going through the door. Oh, and the landing didn't help any either."

"I know," she said looking away from him a moment. "I wasn't thinking when I did it, but I had to do something to make you believe what's happened to you."

"And there wasn't a less painful way to show me?"

John was now standing only inches from her.

"Look," she pleaded. "I can't say I'm sorry enough, but I am. I just..." she stopped and looked away again.

"You what?" John asked using his left hand to turn her face towards him.

"I think I'm in love with you," she finally said. "And I want to spend eternity with you."

"So that's why you bit me?"

"Yes," she said hesitantly.

John was stunned, here was a beautiful woman telling him she loved him, and only moments ago he was thinking about killing her. What was he to do?

Lorna wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him, sealing her own fate as her lips met his.

When John had gotten up from the couch, he had picked up the one piece of the door he had picked up. It was 9 inches long and had a sharp point, sharp enough to pierce Lorna's heart. He had hidden the splinter in his right hand and when she leaned in to kiss him, he had lifted it and Lorna had leaned right into it.

Lorna gasped loudly and her eyes widened as the splinter pushed through her ribs and punctured her heart.She pulled away from John enough to look down. In his hand she saw the splinter sticking from her chest, and the blood soaking her shirt around the entry point.

She looked back up at John, a tear cutting a trail down her left cheek, her eyes and mouth still opened wide. She stared at him a split second before hugging him tight, pushing the splinter deeper into her. She placed her lips against his ear and whispered softly to him.

John's eyes widened and his heart sank at the four words she whispered to him. Four words that would he knew would haunt him for the rest of his unnatural life.

Lorna then moved her lips from his ear to his lips. She gave John a final kiss before going limp in his arms.

John looked at the dead body of Lorna, fighting the lump rising in his throat, then slowly lowered her to the floor.

John was knelling next to Lorna's lifeless body, her dying whisper echoed through his head. He tried, but nothing would silence those last four words.

I'm not a vampire.

And the worst part was, he didn't know if that was true or not. She had bit him. John had never felt so confused in his life. He knew he was a vampire, Lorna had proven that last night, and she was the only one who had bit him. So if she wasn't a vampire, who had turned him into one?

John didn't hear Paul and Gail walk into the apartment, but he felt their presence. John turned around, still on his knees so he was eye to eye with Paul. Paul was arms length away, and Gail stood behind him.

"You killed her," Paul said. His voice was high pitched and quiet, nearly bringing him to tears.

"She..." John started but didn't know how to finish. How could he tell these kids that she had allowed into her home that she was a vampire? There was no way. Before John could open his mouth to finish, Paul reached out and grabbed both sides of John's head. John was so surprised that he didn't have time to react before the apartment started to fade around him.

The apartment completely faded black, then the light came back, but he was no longer in the apartment. John was now standing on a wagon trail facing a small farm house. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew this place, and the time. It was Paul and Gail's home just outside Boston, the year was 1867.

John heard footsteps in the grass behind him and turned to see Lorna walking towards him carrying a wooden bucket. Water splashed over the edge of the bucket with every step. Lorna walked past him and John turned as she walked by. She couldn't see him.

John followed her as she walked into the house.

Inside, the farm house was one large room, with a ladder along the left wall leading up to a loft. John watched as Lorna set the bucket on the floor next to a large iron stove. There was a soft voice from the loft. Lorna stood and turned towards the loft. John couldn't take his eyes off her. Even in the low light of the farm house, she was so beautiful.

Lorna crossed to the ladder and climbed up to the loft. John followed her.

In the loft there were four beds. Two on each side of the loft. The two on the left side of the loft were occupied by two young children, the mother and father stood next to the beds looking down at the children solemnly.

John stepped to the bed as Lorna stood next to her mother and put her arm around her. Her mother looked to her, her eyes puffy from crying.

"Are they getting any better?" Lorna asked.

John stood between the beds and looked down to see Paul and Gail. They were thin, pale, and drenched with sweat. John could also see their breathing was shallow.

"No," the mother said and burst into tears again.

From outside came a loud scream. John walked to a small window and looked out to see a man and horse at the edge of the woods behind the house. The horse was black as night, and the rider was dressed in a long black cloak with the hood covering his head.

As John stared at the dark rider, he didn't know that behind him, Paul and Gail had sat up.

John heard the rustling of the covers behind him and turned just in time to see Paul and Gail attacking their mother and father.

Paul had his father's head bent to the side and had his face buried in his father's throat. Gail had pulled her mother down on the bed with her and lay on top of her as she tore her mother's throat out and drank deep the gushing blood.

When Paul and Gail finished with their parents, they both turned to Lorna who had backed herself against the wall beside John. The children leapt from the bed and pinned Lorna against the wall, but they didn't bite her. Instead, they tore flesh from their own wrist and both held their wrist against Lorna's mouth, wiping their blood over her lips.

As John watched Paul and Gail attacking Lorna, the world began to fade once again. When the light came back to the world again, John felt a moment of vertigo. John was now standing under the pavilion staring at himself four days ago.

Once the vertigo passed, he watched as his former self tossed away the cigarette he was smoking and stand. Then, he stopped and stood there stiff as a board, staring at the playground.

John turned to see what he had been staring at. It was the two teenagers.

They were walking his way, holding hands and giggling. Then they saw him standing there and turned and crossed to plastic play set in the center of the playground. As they climbed the ladder, John walked straight toward them.

John followed himself.

They both stopped at the bottom of the ladder and he watched as he turned around. John looked behind him and saw Paul and Gail standing behind him.

The two children climbed up the ladder. The real John stayed at the bottom of the ladder, but the other John climbed behind the children. When he reached the top, Paul and Gail already had the teenagers on their backs.

Paul and Gail had ripped the teenagers' throats open and was making loud sucking noises as they drank the blood pouring from the bodies below them.

Once again the world faded and reappeared. He was now standing in the gas station. The policeman, the old man, and the fat clerk were there, and he was getting ready to walk out the door. He stood next to himself and watched as he opened the door, letting Paul and Gail in. When they were in, He watched himself shut and lock the door.

He turned as Paul ran across to the policeman and tackled him. The policeman fell back into a shelf of candy, knocking it to the floor and sending candy bars skidding across the floor. There was a loud wet rip as Paul bite into the policeman's throat.

As Paul attacked the policeman, Gail jumped over the counter and knocked the clerk to the floor. John couldn't see what Gail was doing, but he could hear the clerk's gargled screams as Gail bit into her.

The attack on the policeman and clerk was over in seconds. The old farmer, worried only about saving his own ass, ran toward the door, but John was ready for him. The farmer reached the door and grabbed the handle. He tried to push the door open, but it didn't budge.

Before he could push a second time, John watched as he grabbed the farmer around the collar of his flannel shirt and pulled him away from the door. There was a loud cracking as the force of John pulling the farmer from the door broke six of the man's fingers, the pinky finger of the farmer's left hand caught on a sharp edge and was severed at the first knuckle.

The farmer screamed as he flew backwards through the air. When the farmer landed, his head connected with the hard floor and his skull cracked open. The farmer's limp body lay on the floor twitching, and a pool of blood forming around his head.

When Paul and Gail drained their meals, they converged on the farmer, first licking up the blood from the floor, then going for the farmer's open head and drinking up the fresh blood.

The world began to fade again, and John hoped that when the world reappeared, he would be back in the apartment. He couldn't remember anything else. Then he thought about when he was bit, Paul hadn't shown him that yet. Either way, he would be back in the apartment.

But when the world came back, he was in the last place he wanted to be. It was the house his ex-wife lived at with their children.

"No," he whispered. He knew he was a bad father, there was no denying that, and he completely agreed with the courts on their decision not to allow him visitation of his children. But this was beyond him.

He was standing next to himself again, only this time, he was standing at the foot of the stairs looking up. Just beyond the top step, he could see the two doors opposite each other, the rooms his children were in, and he knew that just beyond the stairs was the door leading to his ex-wife's room.

Paul and Gail entered through the front door and stopped beside John. In a daze, John climbed the stairs, holding Paul and Gail's hands as they ascended the stairs. John followed them.

At the top of the stairs, John and the kids stopped. The old John just stood there as Paul and Gail opened the doors.

John couldn't watch as Paul Leapt onto the bed and bit into his son's throat and Gail did the same to his daughter. All he could do was close his eyes as the tears began to fall.

Paul and Gail came out of the rooms and took John's hands again as he led them to the door at the end of the short hall. John kept his eyes closed and fell to his knees.

"Stop," he screamed through the tears. "I've seen enough."

John opened his eyes again and was looking straight into Paul's eyes.

"You killed my family," he screamed at the boy.

Paul was unfazed. "Lorna wasn't a vampire," Paul whispered in his eerie voice. "She was our sister."

"If she wasn't a vampire," John said. He had Paul's full attention and used it to his advantage. He was close enough to Lorna's body, he could grab the splinter of wood without Paul knowing what he was doing. "Then how has she lived so long?"

"She was our Familiar," Paul said. "Our Pet. She led us to our next feeding. She took care of us."

"So, we made you drink our blood so you could be our Familiar too," Gail said. "We only did it because she was lonely and we didn't want her to be lonely anymore."