Blood Sacraments (25 page)

“I’ll be right back with your lunch.”

Tommy watched Chris depart and reached out for the folder had left on the chair he had sat on. The effort brought on a bout of dizziness and nausea, but he fought it down.

Tommy carefully scanned through each document. All he had learned was that he had been severely dehydrated when they brought him in and was suffering from severe withdrawal psychosis brought upon from a lack of the juice. The memory of Darren’s glistening teeth briefly aroused his body. Hearing footsteps approaching, Tommy quickly replaced the folder and resumed a prone position on the bed. Learning the address of the clinic and relaying it to Darren was not going to be an easy task. All the medical and personal information on him had been written down on paper that offered no written clue to his whereabouts. Tommy knew his best chance of finding the information he needed was getting into Chris’s office.

Chris appeared in the doorway with a covered tray. He rolled a table over to Tommy’s bed and set the tray down. “Eat up, and afterward, if you feel up to it, go exploring and meet some of the people here. There’s a robe in the closet to protect you from any drafts.

“Just follow the yellow line on the floor. It leads to the community room. If you have any questions, just ask someone. Or if you want to talk about setting up a recovery program, the purple line leads to administration and my office.”

“Thank you.” Tommy weakly smiled. Chris beamed at him and departed.

 Tommy’s stomach grumbled and he lifted the lid off the tray. Tearing off a piece of chicken, he chewed slowly and thought. He decided to enjoy the meal before searching for the means to regain his freedom.

 Chris had been true to his word. Tommy slowly followed the yellow line painted on the floor and found himself in a large community room filled with a variety of people ranging from his age all the way up to seventy. People waved and greeted him, and Tommy smiled and waved back, secure in the role of playing the shy newcomer to the group. He was well versed from living in group homes and with foster parents to know what was looked for and expected.

His agenda focused on bumping into a small, isolated table where a gray-haired woman was humming away as she concentrated on shaping a wire sculpture of a horse into form. Tommy “accidentally” ran into the table and knocked a few bits of scrap wire onto the floor.

“I’m so sorry,” Tommy said as he picked up pieces of wire from the floor and pocketed a couple for his use.

Startled, the woman looked up. She smiled in relief when she saw Tommy had been the one responsible for the sudden shift of the table. “Oh, that’s all right. You can just leave those scraps of wire on the floor. I’ll pick them up later.”

Tommy apologized again and departed from the community room. He followed the purple line now down a long corridor that led straight to the administration wing of the clinic. Once he located the brass nameplate that announced he had arrived at Chris’s office, he knocked on the door and waited. There was no response. Tommy cautiously surveyed his surroundings. No one was around in the administration wing. He tried the door. It was locked.

Tommy removed the two strands of wire he had acquired from the sculpture table and inserted them into the keyhole. He had the door open before he had reached the silent count of five.

Once inside, Tommy closed the door and raced over to the desk. Chris had been studying a report on how long it took ambulance drivers to reach the clinic from various parts of the city. The first paragraph of the report summed up the study and listed the clinic’s address. Tommy glanced over at the phone. It had a lock on it. The bottom file drawer’s lock was harder to pick. Tommy’s finally gave up picking it and pried it open with a pair of scissors. It contained Chris’s wallet and inside that, a cell phone. Tommy flipped open the cell phone and got an immediate dial tone. The numbers Darren etched into his memory easily came forth and as he waited patiently for him to pick up, Tommy stole a glance out of Chris’s spacious picture window. The setting sun cast the sky in vibrant hues of orange and red.

On the fourth ring, Darren’s answering machine picked up the call. Tommy waited impatiently for the message to finish, and once the beep sounded, he poured forth the information with a triumphant rush until Chris walked in with a man he recognized. The man in the photograph Darren had showed him and cried over. Roger.

Tommy quickly slammed down the receiver.

 “So you called Darren,” Chris said. There was no recrimination in his calm voice. “Meet Roger, his battered partner. He arrived about a month ago with the same medical technician who found you.”

Chris brought Roger farther inside and shut the door.

“Show Tommy.”

Roger hesitated. Horrific shame and embarrassment danced in his still haunted eyes. He clenched tightly at the collar of his shirt in a futile attempt to keep under wraps the legacy of shame his eyes showed.

“Show him,” Chris said more gently this time. He reached out and lightly brushed Roger’s arm with his fingers.

 “It’s all right. We still have some daylight left, and the blinds are closed. No outsider can see, but Tommy needs to see your scars for himself.”

Roger closed his eyes as he unbuttoned his shirt. Tommy watched in nauseous fascination as the older man’s blouse fell down past his shoulders and down to the floor.

Tommy could see Roger’s body had been firm and beautiful once. Somehow the firmness remained despite the patchwork of thin white scars where razor sharp teeth and fingernails had traced path upon path of vicious biting and tearing.

“The pain is fleeting,” Roger said. He smiled wistfully and began tracing a scar on his stomach. “Pretty soon all you live for is their drool upon your body as it numbs out the pain and replaces it with euphoria.”

His finger stopped at his left pec. A firm dark nipple should have been at the ragged scar tissue where his finger rested. Roger smiled at Tommy. “Do you remember the pleasure you felt after his teeth were inside your jugular vein? Do you remember wanting more? Begging for more?”

The memory of Darren’s incisors breaking into the skin of his neck flooded back to Tommy from the corner of his mind where he had buried it.

“No!” Tommy screamed. He blindly ran from the room, tears burning his eyes.

Somehow Tommy managed to maneuver through the maze of people and furniture and found the way back to his room. He ran into the small closet and curled up into a fetal position on the floor. The full memory of his time with Darren surged to the surface of his brain, and he bit deeply on his right hand to prevent himself from screaming in humiliated disgust.

Tommy knew he was no better than Roger, Chris, and all the other patients in the clinic. When Darren had slid roughly inside him, Tommy had begged him to nibble on his body again so he could savor the euphoria his drool offered. Darren had just bared his teeth in a tantalizing tease as each thrust carried his cock farther inside Tommy.

A comforting hand squeezed Tommy’s shoulder in reassurance. Startled, he cried out and scrambled away in terror, only to be blocked by the closet wall. Through tear-blurred eyes, Tommy saw Chris smiling sadly at him.

“It’s okay, honey,” Chris said as he sat down beside Tommy and brushed his hair off his sweaty forehead.

“It’s not okay,” Tommy bitterly cried. “You don’t understand. I told Darren the shelter’s address.”

The laughter in the older man’s eyes stopped Tommy for a second. Then he yelled, “Damnit! Darren’s coming here. He’s coming for Roger!”

“Tommy, oh Tommy, you’re not the first person who has been used by one of them. We’ve had moles before. The founders of this abuse shelter expected one or more vampires would attempt to reclaim a so-called loved one. We exist solely to break the cycle of abuse.”

“But he’s coming. I invited him here. I pleaded with him to come. No wall or door can prevent him from reclaiming me or Roger.” His voice shrank to a shrill whisper. “I don’t want him to touch me ever again.”

“Tommy, listen to me carefully. The sun has set and we don’t have much time left.” Chris pulled him off the closet floor. “Before the founders opened the doors to this shelter, they realized that there would have to be a shelter within a shelter. Darren can’t get to us in there because you haven’t invited him inside there, and we won’t let you. But we’ve got to leave now. Otherwise, no one will be safe from him.”

“It’s already too late. I’ve come back to reclaim what’s rightfully mine.” Darren grabbed Chris and pulled him roughly up from the floor. Tommy screamed and Chris shut his eyes at the sight of saliva dripping from Darren’s sharp incisors. “Where’s Roger?”

With eyes tightly shut, Chris struggled uselessly against Darren’s tight hold. “Go to hell. He’s safe from you!” he yelled.

“Why don’t I take you to heaven instead?” His tongue traveled up the length and breadth of Chris’s thick neck. Tommy watched in mute horror as Chris moaned in orgasmic pleasure and went limp in Darren’s arms.

“Where’s Roger?” Darren whispered in Chris’s ear. “Tell me where he is and I’ll give you another taste. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it.” He tickled Chris’s chin with the tip of his tongue.

Tommy regained a fragile hold on his terror and rose from the floor. “Leave him alone, you bastard.” He rushed him. Darren threw Chris aside. He hit the floor with a dull thud. Darren easily caught Tommy. Two harsh blows landed across his cheeks and pain surged anew in Tommy’s still bruised face.

“Tell me where Roger is, and it’s happy time for everyone. Otherwise…” Darren smacked Tommy across the face again.

“Tell me.” He raised his hand to strike Tommy again, but paused. “I see we have uninvited company.” Darren threw Tommy down and he landed on top of Chris. The older man’s body was still in the throes of orgasmic seizures brought on by Darren’s saliva. Tommy scrambled off Chris and dragged the unconscious man away as Darren turned to face whoever had been bold enough to interrupt him.

An orderly armed with a crossbow stood in the doorway. He fired as Darren dropped to the floor and rolled over to him. The arrow sailed uselessly into the far wall. He knocked the crossbow out of the orderly’s hand and grabbed him by the throat.

“Perhaps you have the information I need,” Darren said. He dragged the squirming man into the closet and slammed the door shut.

“Chris, please wake up,” Tommy pleaded in whispered tones. “We have to get to the shelter. Chris!” Tommy lightly slapped Chris’s face.

Tommy froze at the sound of clothes being ripped and a scream piercing the room. He watched helplessly as the closet door shuddered against the sheer force of the violent coupling on the other side.

The closet door opened and the naked orderly stood momentarily before he dropped. Blood gushed out of a large bite from his neck and oozed down his body. His eyes were dull. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Darren emerged from the closet and wiped the fresh blood from his lips and chin with a handkerchief he pulled out of his shirt pocket. He turned his attention back to Tommy and Chris.

“No,” Tommy whispered. With Chris in tow, he began to back away, but Darren walked over and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“I’m only going to ask one more time.” Darren’s hot breath stank of blood and his teeth scraped across Tommy’s left cheek.

“Darren, take me home. I want to go home.” Roger stood in the doorway. Arms outstretched, smiling.

“Later,” Darren whispered to Tommy. He let go of Tommy and turned his attention fully to his partner.

“Get away from him!” Tommy screamed as he cradled Chris once more, but his words had no effect. Roger hadn’t bothered to put his shirt back on. Smiling, Darren instantly went over to him. Roger smiled as he cradled Darren’s face in his hands.

“Give me just one more taste before we go home,” Roger pleaded.

As Darren closed his eyes and readied his teeth to strike on his neck, Roger removed a sharpened stake that had been taped to his back with electrical tape and plunged it into his back, through his heart.

Darren screamed in pain and outrage, but still managed to grab Roger. In a parody of a loving embrace sealed with a kiss, Darren pulled Roger forward and impaled him on the stake that was sticking out of his chest. “Taste me now,” he managed to rasp before embedding his teeth in his neck. They fell to the floor, dead.

Tommy closed his eyes. Bitter tears flowed as he rocked Chris back and forth. “It’s going to be all right,” Tommy told Chris. He wasn’t aware if the man heard him. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll go out in the sunshine together. Someday. I promise. Together.”

Tommy cried hysterically, hugging Chris tightly, as more orderlies rushed in.

Let’s get one thing straight: I never bit Darren. I never drank from him. I never tried to turn him into one of us.

I didn’t even think about it until the end.

If I’d offered, though, he would have said no, of course. I could have begged, but I think I’ve forgotten how to do that. I would have done anything Darren wanted. I would have walked right out into broad daylight if he’d asked me to.

Not that he would have asked me to do that. Not that it would have made any difference, either. Here are a few more things to get straight. Certain myths are true: We need blood to survive. We never age. We’re hypersensitive to the sun, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen one of us burst into flame. That’s not to say it’s impossible. The part about having no reflection is total bullshit. So’s the part about turning into a bat, a wolf, or a mist.