Wake Up Dead - an Undead Anthology (10 page)

'My poor, poor girl,' her father sobbed as he stepped into the tent. 'This is what I had prepared for. This is what I had prayed against for nine months.'

Adesi still couldn't see the thing between her open legs, but she felt every move as it began to tear away at her flesh. She was certain that it bit her, too, and that was when she prayed for death, for if it had teeth then it was not of this world, nor should it be.

'Nkechi,' he father said, beckoning him into the room. 'We have no choice.'

Adesi pushed herself up onto her elbows. The sweaty bedclothes clung to her like a second skin. 'What is it Father?' she cried. 'Please, tell me what it is?'

Her father stepped aside and glanced down into Adesi's swollen eyes. Already they were turning – she was turning – and he knew that there was nothing more to be done for either of them.

'Please,' she begged. 'Please, tell me what's happening.' Her eyes glazed over, yellowed as if she had all of a sudden become jaundiced. She threw herself back down onto the bed as the pain enveloped her.

'I love you,' her father said, taking a cautious step backwards. He turned to Nkechi. 'The baby first,' he said, jabbing a finger towards the monstrosity between her thighs.

Nkechi stepped up and, wielding the machete like a pro-baseball player, sliced the air. There was an audible whoosh, a hellish scream, and then only Adesi's sobs.

'Pleeeeease!' she cried, the agony making the cords on her neck stand out. 'Pleeeeease, what have you done?!'

Nkechi handed the machete to his father and apologised. 'I will see her forever in my nightmares,' he said, a solitary tear making its way down his cheek. 'I can't do it.'

Her father pointed him towards the tent exit. 'You will be thought no less of in this camp,' he said. 'Now go. I have to do this now, before she is completely taken.'

Nkechi left the tent sobbing.

Adesi's screams lasted but a second longer.

SUICIDE SOLUTION

R.D.Teun

Quinn walked slowly past the houses that sat quietly beneath the shelter of night. Not one curtain flickered; there was no news to be heard just yet. However, come tomorrow, those curtains would flicker. The neighbours that had been strangers for years would greet each other to discuss the mystery of the night before. It would be the tale that lovers used as justification to cling together, when the cold was of no available excuse. Cold-hearted murderers would lay awake at night, clutching their sheets and left to watch the windows for strange faces. Lost in the deep pool of his own thought as he entered the field just beyond the houses, Quinn wondered why this place was chosen: Why here? Where it was open and wide. Why not somewhere quiet and secluded? The grass crunched softly beneath his feet as he walked to the edge of the lake. Despite his reservations of chosen location, he could barely contain his excitement; here he was taking what could be his last breaths as a mortal. It was tonight, soon he would be inducted…
No
. He was to transcend into

the upper echelons of a new existence. To live forever, to live a thousand lifetimes. Never knowing the cruel grace of old age, never knowing sickness. He felt the last feelings of regret slowly ebb away. His family would never know of him again. A once in a lifetime chance. If confronted with the moral dilemma that he was given, he was sure they would have made the same choice. Not that it mattered anymore; they had refused him their loving embrace for some time now. He was fathered by a man who never wanted him in the first place. All Quinn was ever told was that he was a product of a one-night stand; he was never part of that particular deal, as he was constantly reminded during his adolescence. He had spent his entire life not belonging. Now he was old enough to be responsible for himself, he was shown the door never to darken it again with his shadow. All that was left was the world to be explored. Around him the crickets sang. The animals of the night made their quiet way through the surrounding trees as they swayed as lightly as feathers caught in a breeze, and the night welcomed the end of the day. Quinn hoped this would be the last of his suffering. Life had not been kind to him; it had seemed to be against him at every corner. Maybe in his death and rebirth the pain would falter, perhaps fade away completely. Maybe, for the first time in his life he would finally be a piece of a puzzle that fitted.

‘There have been men who have lost countless years watching their own reflection.’

The voice caused Quinn to nearly leap from the very skin he inhabited. Quinn turned around to face the owner of the familiar voice.

‘Is this gonna be the last night?’ said Quinn with a nervous smile. He had every right to be nervous. All the knowledge he had was from what he had seen from every vampire film. The little time he had spent with a
real
vampire was very different from what he had seen on the silver screen. Maybe it was the Hollywood appeal to the masses, in which the monsters had to have that certain approachability, White males, who were always athletic and always with or ahead of fashion. The silver-screen vampires had a feminine handsomeness. Lastly, they were always perfect boyfriend material, complete and utter gentlemen. Quinn only had one of these qualities. He was not particularly handsome nor was he unfortunate. How new vampires were chosen was a concept beyond him. Whatever qualities he had… they had caught the attention of the eternal.

Quinn repeated ‘Will it be my last?’

‘The last night as a
human
? Yes it will be. In fact the only thing left for you, is to die.’

The nervous smile upon Quinn’s face turned like sour milk.

‘Don’t look so worried; dying is all part of the process of the turning.’

Vampire
. The word still lacked reality, despite all tangible proof in the world right in front of him. If it all were indeed to be a dream, he would gladly fall into it completely. Quinn looked down at his distorted reflection in the lake as it rippled away, never again to find a pleasing form within this life, as he knew it. He wished he had more time, maybe a little more time to get his figure the way he wanted. A little more time to get some money together. Still this was it, now and forever, no turning back. Looking into his maker's eyes, he felt lost within them. His worries faded as if a distant and worn memory. The last remnants of his existence lost to the memory of the lake. He felt the excitement build slowly like a good orgasm. For Quinn, he felt as though he was on the cusp of becoming a celebrity. To be immortal, to go anywhere, be
anyone
. To travel from one destination to the next without responsibility or time to dictate how long he spent in places. Some of the most wonderful views in the world were viewed by moonlight and her loving glow.

‘There are consequences for this life.’ said the maker.

‘What? How did you know what I was thinking?’

‘I know your every thought. Your every impulse. Your blood is in my veins. You want to know why I chose you. In time, you may understand my motives. Time is also growing short for us.’

‘Time?’ asked Quinn.
For us?
came the afterthought.

‘Time was a lost concept for me,
well
, until now. I cannot stress enough. We must not exist to the outside world. It is one that I have…well, I have
broken
. That Is why I chose you…You're the one who is going to kill me.’ said the maker.

‘Why? How can you expect me to kill you?’ asked Quinn.

‘Murder, the cost of my existence. I have taken life after life; for me to live longer than what is allowed. You should get used to killing, you and Death will be intimate friends.’

‘No. I can’t kill you, I
won’t
.’ said Quinn. He continued, ‘Isn’t it a little too late for regrets?’

Quinn’s maker gave a bitter laugh; there was no real telling as to what his age was before he was turned.

If pushed to an educated guess, Quinn would have said around thirty. Still, irrelevant now; his maker's interior clock was far older despite appearances.

‘Do you know my name? No, of course you don’t. I never want to be remembered as a murderer. I tried to feed off those who deserved to die, but then who am I to

judge? That is left to god…maybe he may just forgive me…’

‘But why? Isn’t it in your nature to feed off the blood the living? Who did you kill that caused such attention?’ said Quinn. He hoped to change his maker’s mind.

‘The less you know the better. So live for a few more decades, grow old and grey then die in an undignified state in an old peoples' home…Or will you take the chance to live forever?’

Quinn turned his back for a moment, it was not a move made to be impolite. He needed to think about this

without eyes upon him. To live forever, cheating death…?

‘There are rules.
No
, think of them as laws as they come with punishments if broken. We vampires do not, cannot, be found to be thought of as existing. I just cannot stress that enough. I do not want you to make the same mistakes I have made. Therefore, here comes my other reason for wanting to be killed: I cannot face my punishments. I got careless; I forgot the rules in my blood lust. I want to die on my own terms. Aside from that you must think of us as the Mafia. We are not there, yet we
are
. As much as we need to feed, we must do our best not to kill. If we do, we must be careful to hide the evidence.’

Quinn wanted to drink in what he could; he could kill if it meant surviving. After all he would have centuries ahead of him to get over his crimes. He ate meat as a living man, which involved the death of a living creature. So what difference would it make if he was a walking dead man? Quinn felt that all this information was hurried; his maker was running from his own existence. Despite this, his maker walked with the confident gait he was used too. Even in the face of true
eternal
death, he was defiant. Proud. Having only been courted for as an apprentice for six months, Quinn felt honoured to be chosen in such a short time. As Quinn understood it, such apprenticeships took no less then two years. To give the gift of eternity was not to be given away like a drunken one night stand; it was to be saved for one that would treasure such a gift.

‘Why do you want to die?’

‘Have you not been listening? My killing, I have had
enough
! I have lived for hundreds of years; I have watched people I have grown to love wither away into death. Above all, I am tired… I just want to rest. There has got to be more to life than blood and the night sky. I want to be dead to the world.’ replied his maker.

‘Wel-’

Before another question left the lips of Quinn, he felt the cold hands of his maker holding his head straight. He could feel his makers teeth scrape against his warm skin, and then came the pain. The needle-like teeth did not pierce his skin; they instead tore into his flesh. From the corner of his eye, Quinn watched his blood spurt onto the grass. He wanted to pull his maker away from his neck. There would be no point.

Collapsing to his knees, Quinn held his neck. The blood ran between his fingertips like sand. Before he could catch his breath, Quinn felt the powerful hands of his maker beneath his armpits. From there he felt himself hoisted to his feet.

‘Here, take this.’ said the maker, wiping the blood from his mouth onto his sleeve. Before he was even aware, Quinn felt something hard and heavy drop into his palm. Before he could react, he once again felt the gentle kiss of his maker upon his throat. Quinn could feel his flesh knit together, almost as if the sinew and muscle were dancing until it became one blanket of skin.

‘What is it?’ asked Quinn, who was not even aware that his maker’s nails had penetrated his skin. It had once again become the uniform of skin that it once was.

Quinn thought that if only man could have known of the healing properties of vampire blood, maybe then they could have been accepted into society of equals.

‘Never mistake the living as equals; humanity is greedy by nature.’

Quinn hated the privacy of his thoughts being invaded like that, he craved some privacy in his own mind.

The maker's nails tapped against the sharp stake.

‘It is my saviour; remember what I said…they will be here in moments.’

Quinn’s lip quivered as he spoke, his voice trembled.

‘I don’t want to do this, I won’t…’

‘ You must, you
will
, I don’t want to found by the other vampires. I have exposed them. At least this way…they cannot get to me, or you. Quick, they are getting closer!’

What could his maker see that he could not? In the deep darkness where the moon ruled with its light. Who were they? Who was he, other then his maker? If only he could read him so openly as his maker could read Quinn.

Before another question could form on his lips, Quinn felt the hands of his maker upon his own hands. He felt the hard and heavy object swivel within his palm, he felt something sharp brush against his skin. Quinn felt as though he was a puppet; his maker was pulling his strings. Before his eyes, his hands drove the object into the chest of his maker. A look of pained relief struck his maker's face. A scream from his maker pierced the night, Quinn’s head followed the howl into the sky. He expected for that one moment which went as quick as it came, for the very stars themselves to fall once the sound reached them. His maker's body made its last sound as it hit the ground with an empty thump. Quinn looked down at his hands, covered in red guilt. The stake, once silver. Now covered in warm red liquid from the walking cold body. Quinn watched the lifeless body heaped upon the floor, just how much had those eyes seen? From the birth of the world's first car to the birth of modern technology. Could he have been older then
that
? Could his maker have seen the birth of an empire to its inevitable fall? Quinn wished he had taken the time to find out; hindsight was a beautiful thing.