Upír
by Jacob Anderson
[this is the third in the three part series–
read The Vanishing of Viera from the beginning]
Upír
Holy hell. I knew Larric was strong, but that bastard did a number on me. I limped through the streets, covering the gash in my ribs hoping the flesh would start to mend soon. Dodging street lights to remain unseen became a challenge in my condition, but I saw a house with its lights off and it looked like the family might be gone. I meandered down the side of the fence until I was hidden from the street and clumsily threw myself over it into the backyard. I hit the ground and tumbled forward, bouncing off a shrub and landing hard onto my back. Definitely not my most graceful landing. As I struggled to catch my breath and composure, unexpected footsteps hustled to the rear door. Oh great. An older woman walked out and when she saw me she hustled over and helped me to my feet, fussing about getting me cleaned up. I tried to break away but she was insistent, and honestly, her determination to help me was refreshing. So, I did as she said and she got me bathed and fed, even going as far as stitching up the gash in my side. Apparently she had been a seamstress when she was younger, remarking that skin was just the cloth of the body. Very macabre, but I still found it very endearing.
We got to talking and I explained that I was “jumped by some no good goons.” Not a total lie, Larric and his band of half-breeds certainly ambushed me and are quite goonish. She offered me her couch for the night, or for a few nights if I still wasn’t feeling well tomorrow. Her kindness was warming, it was clear that she was missing company and someone to dote on. From the pain in her eyes she probably lost a child, but it is not my place to ask.
The next day I repaid her kindness by fixing some broken items I saw around the home and cleaned where I could. She had well maintained vinyls of Marvin Gaye, and with those spinning the work was done in no time. She eventually woke up and greeted me and we spoke more, she loved hearing my tales from ages past. We spent hours and hours chatting, reliving our glory days. She was a wonder. Kind and strong, enduring all the hardship life threw at her with a smile. She eventually did mention the passing of her daughter Jackie. She talked about how hard life was after she lost her and she even thought of ending it all, but she decided against it. Deciding that since Jackie didn’t get to live her full life, she would take on a few more years to make up the difference. It was a beautiful sentiment.
I stayed another night and the next day went much the same, I did a few chores and we reminisced and listened to oldies. That night she said goodnight and went to bed, and I sat on the couch thinking. She deserved to live a full life and carry on the legacy that Jackie would’ve wanted. So, as she slept I snuck in her room and gently as I could, as not to wake her, I began to blood her. This would give her the chance to live long enough to fulfill her wish. As I finished the process I could hear some raucous outside, when I peeked I saw that it was Larric and his goons again. I carefully slid out the back door and made my escape, leaving enough clues to drag Larric away from that poor woman’s house.
I spent the next couple months knocking Larric and his brood down a peg and regaining control of my territory. Unfortunately, this whole process kept me away from seeing my new progeny come into her own, but I would make my way to her soon and indoctrinate her properly. Alas, that never came to fruition. I was called to visit a colleague a few states over and during that time I felt a tinge in my heart. That old, familiar feeling of when someone close to you has their chapter closed. My presence was required by my colleague and delayed me from investigating her death.
When I finally came back, I was greeted with an estate sale at her home. I had been gone far too long and now I may never be able to avenge her. But, I caught a whiff of someone with an overt garlic odor, and I saw a man walk out of her home with her ragged diary in his hand. I followed him that day and waited for my time. He parked by a lake and sat on the bed of his truck as he read through her journal. I waited as the sun set, and once it dipped below the horizon I made my way to a tree closer to him.
“I know you’re there. I assume you did this?” He said.
“Nothing gets by you hunters.” I laughed as I stepped out of the shadows. “I assume you’re the one who killed that lovely woman.”
“When I found her she was nothing more than a rabid dog.”
“You will not speak about her that way. You bastards would never know a pure soul like hers.”
“That old bitch was just another pest like all of you.”
I instantly closed the distance, knocking the gun out of his hand and holding him in the air by his throat.
“All you hunters are self-righteous bastards with no sense of morals, and I will not stand for it.” I said as I snapped the bastard’s neck and dropped him to the ground. I looked up at the rising moon.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, Viera.”
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