My name is Jake "Dodger" Williams and I remember, in vivid horrifying detail, the night that the vampire murdered my father, burned our home and cursed me to a fate most people could not bear. Now, I could push the story back, write something like "but that's not where it started" or some such. I could describe my childhood, how my father became Sherriff of a little town called Flatbrush. How my mother ran out on my father when I was 5 or 6, leaving him behind for that bastard Ryan Dougherty. Or I could waste your time describing how my father and I became incredibly close. But honestly it was completely normal and exactly what you would expect. No, my story began the night of the fire. The night Sumter Allen sunk his dirtied fangs into my life for the first time.
It was June 19th, it was just after sunset during an unseasonably cold summer and I was out screwin around in the woods. It had only been dark about an hour. I was 11 years old. I was due to turn 12 on July 1st and I was out hittin bushes with a stick, thinkin about what present my daddy was gonna get me, and whether or not he would let me have a drink from Ms. Karry's saloon. I smelled smoke and heard a bunch of horse racket, but didn't think anything of it. Our old plowhorses didn't much like fire, and my pa had told me he was going to burn some old dryrotted lumber, and a few busted barrels that had been leftover from 3 winters before. I went right on smackin bushes and sword fighting invented monsters. Then I heard the first gunshot.
I nearly jumped out of my skin, thinking the rotted log I'd swung at had up and exploded. Didn't take me long to figure out my childish mistake when the volley happened. Two different guns now. I turned and licked it back through the woods just as fast as my bare feet would carry me. I got to our fence line just in time to witness it. My father was staggering toward me, well in the direction I happened to be, and he was blindly firing behind him at this figure who looked like death given form. Now, I didn't know at the time that vampires were the real deal. Didn't have the foggiest idea. But what I did know was that Sumter Allen was some sort of villain from legend, a figure that haunts me to this day. He was tall, his height casting a long figure in front of him from the burning light of my home. His dead white hands were drenched in blood. Red eyes burned from a handsome face, made ugly by a merciless jackal's grin. As my father staggered away aiming to get some cover behind the horse's water trough, this monster raised his gun, a huge Colt Peacemaker and pulled the trigger. I saw the spray of blood, evidence of the ball shot through my daddy's knee and I watched him fall. But, my father was a fighter to the last. He didn't cry out in pain but in a rage.
"You undead son of a bitch!" My father made sure he fell on his back and faced toward the figure who approached him like grim doom, unafraid of the second LeMat revolver my father pulled from his other holster. My daddy thumbed back the hammer and fired twice. I thought he missed. I screamed and ran toward him. I don't know exactly what I yelled, it was lost as Sumter and my pa exchanged shots again. But that I couldn't be heard didn't seem to matter. On some primal connection between father and son, on instinct I guess you could say, my father turned his eyes to me. "Run, oh God, Run! Run, Dodger!" He raised the gun at Sumter, who had looked up at me lazily and threatened him in a low growl."You hurt him you bastard..."
Sumter was lightning. I blinked and he was sitting on my father's chest, my daddy's knife in his pale hand. "You don't have to worry about the boy, David. I don't hurt babies. Now, where is it?"
"Gone. I gave it to that Marshal what drifted through here a month ago." Spat my father. "You're too late, Sumter!"
"That's a real shame. You ought not to have done that." Sumter told him then turned those baleful eyes up at me. "I would run or turn away if I were you, boy. You don't wanna watch this. Better you just see the aftermath." I wanted to run, I really did. I wanted to run or fight or shit or something
but I didn't.
Hell, I couldn't. I just stood frozen in terror, staring at what happened. Sumter leaned down and used his teeth to bite into my daddy's neck, reveling in the blood in his mouth. Then he went to work with the knife. Over and over again, I watched the blade of the big buck knife disappear into my father's chest. And I stood stock still watching this tableaux of stupid violence. When he was done, Sumter wiped his mouth and stood, dusting off his knees and his dark red duster, licking his fingers clean then wiping the remainder of the wet red substance in the dirt.
When he looked up at me again, there was confusion on his face. "I thought we said to run." He spat to the side. "Well... hate that you gotta live with nightmares." He sighed, seeming genuinely perturbed. "But that ain't none of my affair. See ya round kiddo." He walked over, roused my haired with his dirty hand then turned around and started to walk away. He whistled and waved his hand over his head, yelling. "Come on, boys! We're done here." When he said that I unfroze. He walked toward a group of men I hadn't seen before. They were a strange motley for sure.
The first I noticed was a pale skinned Oriental fellow, wore a weird slightly curved sword on one side and two smaller versions of it one his other. He was dressed in armor, some kind of thing with overlapping plates. Had a picture of some sort of bearded snake thing on it, done in gold. The other fella was a wiry kinda tough lookin man. Carried a gun on his hip but was juggling a set of knives, at least four. He had a large red mustache and a big scar on his forehead, just under his bright red hair. The hair was patchy. Sorta like he had mange or something. Tattoos covered his arms on every exposed inch of skin.
Then There was a set of twin women, each spinning a strange lookin pistol. They had long brown hair, down nearly to their waists. They were hauntingly pretty. Luscious red lips and bright honey colored eyes that danced in the firelight. They didn't seem to like the violence. Hell, they seemed almost... sad about the whole affair. They looked at me and they turned their heads in a weird freakish unison, scrubbing at their faces.
I almost missed the last member of their little entourage.
The only reason I picked him out was because he stepped out of the shadow of the house to give some comfort to the two ladies. He was huge! He stood at least six and a half feet tall. And was about four feet across at the shoulders. And it wasn't any wonder I missed him. Shaken and panicked as I was. But God above, he'd be easy to miss if you had eyes like an owl. The man was as black as the darkness. And by Jesus, he was built like a brick outhouse. Muscles rippled everywhere, their definition catching shadows in the roaring bonfire of the farmhouse. Scars covered his shirtless back.
But... I noticed these people in an afterthought, however. In that moment, I was focused only on the man called, Sumter. I screamed at him. "I'll kill you!" Then I ran forward and grabbed my father's revolver. The LeMat is a heavy weapon, carrying nine .36 caliber shots and had a secondary barrel underneath the main, fitted for a shotgun shell. To put it mildly I had to hold the beast in two hands.
I pointed it at Sumter, shaking with rage, terror and hesitation. The red haired fellow stopped juggling, the Oriental fellow turned with furrowed eyebrows and gave Sumter a tap on the shoulder pointing at me. The vampire turned, confusion on his face. Then it split into a grin.
"Well, well, well. What have we here? Are you going to shoot me boy?" He chuckled, "Well hell, here I am. Fire away. Won't do much good, but it might make you feel better." I hesitated and the whole group started to smile, save for the women, having turned when Sumter spoke.
"Oh, leave 'im alone baby. He don't know any better." One of them pleaded, tugging the sleeve of his jacket. He reached down and gently took her hand and kissed the back of it.
"Don't worry, he's fine. Just full'a piss and vinegar. Hell it might do him some good." Replied the killer. He turned back to me. "C'mon son. Let her talk. Here I'll make it a bit easier." He spread his vest and shirt open, exposing the fish belly white of his chest. "C'mon Jake, I killed your pa. Shoot me." He chuckled again, taunting me. The men around him began snickering.
The man with the red hair piped up. "Why don't ya shoot, lad?" His Irish accent was thick and jovial. "Are ya scared? Ya pulled dat iron. So which be it ya lack? Da courage or da conviction?"
The oriental fellow spoke, his voice almost whisper like. "I think he might be afraid of missing."
"I just don't tink he loved his father enough." Chided the Irishman. This statement was promptly met with a quick backhand from Sumter. The smack of flesh on flesh was so loud that it resembled the crack of a .22.
"Don't talk if you're gonna say stupid shit, Aaron Jameson. He ain't exactly a hardened killer." He turned an approving look on the Asian man. "I think you may have won the cigar." The monster turned his eyes to I stood, still aiming the gun, still trembling. "Is that it son, don't wanna hit somebody else? That's fine. I'll make it easy." Once more I blinked and Sumter was in front of me, kneeling down. Before I could move he grabbed the barrel of my father's gun and pressed it against his bare chest. His red eyes bored into mine. "C'mon boy. Don't you want to avenge your father? To kill me? Just do it. Thumb the hammer back..."
"I mean it! I'll do it!" I screamed at him. I fumbled around and managed to pull back the hammer.
"Oh, I don't know... seem too gutless to me... do it." He said then he screamed at me, his voice carrying a tinny mechanical roar at the bottom, like some wild animal. "DO IT! PULL THE TRIGGER YOU LITTLE COWARD! KILL ME!"
The sudden thunder of the LeMat seemed to almost spook him, he jumped like a girl who'd had her bottom pinched. Truth be told, I was right there with him. If it spooked him, it scared me to death. I dropped the the still smoking gun into the dust. His blood had splattered my face.
The men of Sumter's crew burst into laughter. The Asian fellow merely chuckled but the big black fellow and the Irishman were full on belly laughing, great whooping cries of side clutching surprised joy. Even the women were trying to hide smiles behind the polite guise of wiping their mouths. Sumter stood up and jumped about patting his chest.
"Ow... Good God above! I can't believe you did it, ya little bastard." He turned those eyes on his men. "Shaddup ya fuckin hyenas! Ya got any idea how much this shit stings?"
As the group got themselves under spme form of control, Sumter stopped moving and then grinned at me and began using his fingers to dig the .36 caliber ball out of his chest. He did this as casually as pulling out a splinter. He held the bloody piece of lead up to the light.
"Welp, color me surprised. I didn't think ya had it in ya. I was honestly just teasin ya. But the world is full of surprises I guess. " He remarked.
"Why did you do it?" I asked, falling to my knees in shock and despair. "What are you? How come you came here? Why?"
He held out his hands in a placating gesture. "Hold on a second. Slow down. Since ya caught me by surprise with your show of balls. I'm gonna give ya some answers. Seems only fair. But a body can only answer one at a time." He sighed and knelt in front of me again. "Ya see, boy, let me say this first. Ya know those stories you've heard about witches and goblins and blood lusting monsters?" He asked, almost kindly like he was just a teacher or a friendly uncle who was giving a lesson and not a murderer who had destroyed everything I ever knew. I am ashamed to say that I nodded, unable to do anything else. "Well, every single one of them is true. We are very real and very, very deadly." He grinned wickedly, showing blood drenched fangs in his mouth. " Now, why did I do it? Understand that I took very little pleasure in this... well that's not exactly true. I enjoy what I do but I didn't bear your pa any particular malice." He sighed, seeming genuinely regretful. "But he poked his nose where it didn't belong and made some very old and very powerful people mighty pissed off." He swept his gambler hat off his head and ran his fingers through his long white-silver hair before replacing it and continuing on.
"He was given a warning to stop. But your daddy was a law man. And they have an unfortunate trait of not being able to leave bad enough alone. So he earned what he got." Then he stood. "Anything else I can do for you?" I instinctively shook my head. His grin became wicked again, the doting uncle facade gone. "Oh... but you're wrong, boy..." He terrified me with his speed. One moment I was kneeling on the ground, mystified by the creature in front of me, the next Sumter had me held by my vest front. My weight to him might as well have been a pencil. "Brave boy. Here.. a little gift from the devil." Sumter opened his mouth then used his fangs to tear open a vein in his wrist.
He brought me close enough to pin my arms against my sides with one of his own lanky appendages. It might as well have been a prison cell. I struggled and kicked trying to get away. He pressed his freely flowing wrist to my mouth. I continued fighting him, his blood running over my cheeks. He laughed then shook me roughly. "Drink, boy... Drink." When I still resisted he tightened his grip till it became a crushing bear hug.
He didn't cause any damage but it was enough to make me cry out in pain and when I did that flow of blood went into my mouth. As soon as I took the first taste... I stopped fighting. It was vile... and so very, very sweet. I could taste the blood like normal, that coppery metallic taste. But there was something under it like..... the best fried doughnuts and sweet apple fritters that I had ever tasted. And I felt great. All my panic was gone. My fear of Sumter was gone, my care for my father was gone, my faith was gone all that there was, was the blood. That vile, bitter, heavenly blood of a vampire.
When I hit the dirt, I grunted. Sumter had pulled it away... part of me wanted more but suddenly my anger became a physical thing, something in me broke. I wanted him dead! My head was pounding and I could feel my heart racing in my chest! I wanted to destroy something! I reached out for my father's gun again but Sumter got there first. He kicked it away. When I tried to tackle him... I moved him. But then he pushed me down. I got more violent and he got more playful. It became like a violent imitation of the way a father would tease his son. That drove me to a greater rage. "I'LL KILL YOU!" I screamed. I lunged at him, a sharp pain in my mouth. My only desire in the world was to latch my teeth on this monster's neck and tear till there was nothing left. That's precisely when the seizure hit.
It started in my spine, pain... no ungodly agony started to radiate out from there in a slow crawling wave. I couldn't move, hell I could barely breathe. But still that rage flooded through me. I kept my eyes on Sumter as he turned and walked away, heading toward horses which had been hidden on the far side of the property. I said it over and over as he walked off. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!" At one point Sumter turned around and waved his hat at me cheerily, wearing that toothy grin.
"It's a date! I'll see ya then!" With that being his last words on the subject of what he had done here Sumter Allen was gone, riding off as calmly as if he didn't have a care in the world. I promised him death until he was out of sight. Then I gave in to the pain and the world went black.