By: H.M. Garber

The yellowed walls, peeling paint and cracked molding appeared sinister. Brent felt his body decaying like the old mansion. He existed here with only Aunt Agnes and his private nurse, Robyn. Abandoned by the rest of his family, Brent wondered how his parents or even his sister justified leaving him at eleven years of age. Yes they supported him financially but never visited, called or even sent flowers. He didn’t know if they were alive or dead, and sometimes wondered why he still cared.

The study’s book lined walls and high ceilings towered over Brent. Dusty crystal chandeliers swayed and tall leaded glass windows rattled with the oncoming storm. This epitomized Brent’s feelings that all wealth and power were useless against life’s obstacles.

During yesterday’s visit, Dr. Kline explained that his latest CAT scan showed the inoperable brain tumor. This tumor caused Brent to progressively lose motor function until he lost the use of his legs and needed a wheelchair. Over the years it continues to grow and squeeze the left side of his brain until it eventually killed him. He would be dead within the year.

Brent always daydreamed about being his own science fiction hero, like Neo fighting the computer virus in the Matrix, but today, on his twenty-first birthday, he thought instead about his nurse. Robyn Flynn. She had worked and lived with him for three years. With thick black hair, and turquoise blue eyes, he knew the moment they met, they would be together. She shared his distain for the shallow and arrogant people who treated him like a useless burden on their tax dollars because he was in a wheelchair. His family was wealthy enough to provide his medical care without help from any government agency.

He was also angry and sad at how others treated Robyn because she was a medical professional who wore dark clothing and kohl makeup. He had started wearing black jeans and eyeliner, wanting to be more like her rather than arrogant and thoughtlessly cruel people.

Before his last doctor’s visit, he wanted to convince her to go out with him. She never dated. He wondered if there was something wrong with her. Maybe she didnt like men. She liked him well enough. After straightening the room and other random tasks she would sit with him and talk about horror stories and her favorite authors, Poppy Z. Bright and Andrea Dean Van Scoyoc.

She never mentioned what he couldn’t do or the techniques he used to perform the same tasks, those with full mobility took for granted everyday. She only looked at him with admiration and respect.

Now, he needed to think of a way to tell her that he never wanted to see her again. He wanted to save her from as much pain as he could. He admitted to himself that he loved her last month. She was amazing, never accepting the status quo, always pushing the envelope. He knew that the best thing was to encourage her to find someone else or at least stop caring for him. Providing hospice care was something she was experienced at, but it would emotionally destroy him for her to watch his body deteriorate until he finally died. He knew his body would cease to function before his mind and he couldn’t handle the idea of watching that happen.

The manor was equipped with plenty of electric lights, but Brent liked the play of shadow and light on the walls from candlelight. Dusk came and went, but Robyn still didn’t stop by. Usually, she would come early and talk with him before she assisted him with his nightly ritual.

A light tapping on the door signaled a visitor. Expecting Robyn, Brent was surprised by his Aunt Agnes and a dark stranger, dressed in a black button down shirt and trousers. A purple velvet waistcoat popped against his monochrome outfit. This Victorian look was emphasized by his long black ringlets pulled into a low ponytail.

“Brent this is your distant cousin from Prague, Viktor. I asked him to come for a visit.”

I have a cousin in Prague who is visiting me now? Where has he been this entire time? Why haven’t I heard of him?

Aunt Agnes kept her distance from Viktor. He radiated some dark energy, and Brent was intrigued. He didn’t understand why Aunt Agnes feared this man. He reminded Brent of someone who didn’t conform to any rule or standard like him and Robyn. He even wore red lipstick.

“Viktor,” Brent nodded politely.

“Well, I’ll leave you two alone.” The heavy door slammed at her hasty exit.

“I hear you haven’t been feeling too well, cousin. Did Agnes explain how I can help?” His memorizing voice bounced off the walls and ceilings. His pale skin glowed in the flickering light.

“No she didn’t and no one can help, Viktor. I wished this day wouldn’t come since the doctors found my tumor, when I was eleven.”

“I can extend your time here on earth.” Viktor moved closer to Brent and squatted down to his eye level. “I want to help you, Brent. I want you to come with me to Prague. We can bring Robyn with us if you want, but I have been alone too long. I need to do one thing, Brent. I just need your permission.”

“Viktor, I do want to live, but what do you want to do? And how do you know about Robyn?” Brent sighed. If he could live and continue healthy and happy, he could pursue Robyn without fear of dying and leaving her alone.

“I know everything about you, Brent, including your feelings for your nurse.”

Unfortunately, Brent thought, his cousin was deluded. All the specialists said nothing could be done and no one knew how he felt about Robyn. This was a secret Brent would not share with anyone.

“I know you think I am deluded, but what do you have to lose?” Viktor used all his powers of persuasion and seduction. He ran his cool hand up the side of Brent’s neck. “Just one prick…one small taste.” Viktor murmured as he sniffed, licked and finally sank his sharp teeth into Brent’s artery, drinking deeply.

“Yes.” Brent gasped then moaned as Viktor drank his life.

Death.

Brent’s cousin offered him death, his confused mind rejoiced. He didn’t need to watch his body betray him and collapse upon itself any longer. He could spare Robyn the pain of watching as he deteriorated into nothing. He felt sleepy freedom as his body became weaker.

Distantly he heard a slam and saw Robyn enter and scream “Stop!” then Viktor gestured. The noise ceased and a thump was heard.

Nearly unconscious from blood loss, Brent smelled something metallic then felt hot liquid dripping into his mouth. He grabbed at the arm and sucked until it was yanked away from him.

Power and vitality rushed through his veins. A drip of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

“What have you done?” Brent asked, still confused, but euphoric from the elixir traveling through his veins.

“I’ve made you like me, now we can go back to Prague and take Robyn with us.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Brent rolled his chair over to her still body. “Why is she like this?”

“She distracted me. If I made one wrong move you would have died. I needed to silence her. She’ll be fine.”

“Would have died? I should have died. What am I, Viktor?”

“Stand up.” Viktor commanded.

“What? I can’t walk. I haven’t been able to in years. Why didn’t you just put me out of my misery?”

“I need companionship. I have wished for a companion to understand what I am. You are family and needed this gift. Now stand.”

Brent cautiously rose from the wheelchair, the apprehension on his face turned to incredulous wonder when his legs remained strong and steady.

Viktor looked luminous with glossy black hair and crimson lips. Antique furniture and thread bare rugs glowed vivid and alive. Robyn’s pulse visibly thumped in her neck. A filter lifted from his eyes. He no longer doubted that he would continue to live.

“What am I? What have you done?”

“You are Vampir, Brent, like me.” Viktor found Brent’s curiosity and fearlessness toward him pleasing. “We cannot exist in the sunlight and need to drink blood to survive.”

“Drink blood? You mean from a living person?” Brent remembered all the vampire movies he and Robyn watched, how the creatures were cursed to exist forever but only at night.

“Yes, but we don’t need to kill. We can survive with a small drink.” Viktor knew what the next question would be. He went through this himself. There was no other reason for him to be alone. He supported Brent’s family for centuries, but never interacted with them until now.

“Then I will outlive Robyn unless I make her like me?” Brent knew the answer before Viktor nodded the affirmative.

“I can’t do that to her. I can’t cut her life short.” He whispered while running his fingers through her hair and gazing at her unconscious face.

“Then we must leave now, while night remains. Agnes can tell her you were killed in a robbery.”

Brent pressed his lips to Robyn’s, kissing her for the first and last time.

“I love you, Robyn.”