Reginald Baxter the Vigilante Vampire (7 page)

Jules looked confused. He took a couple sips from his cup before saying, "They will protect themselves, if they can. They still outnumber us, and technology could give them a small chance."

"So you think they should be wiped out?"

Jules looked offended. "I said nothing of the sort. As I said, most believe humanity is an inferior race, but I do not. We are sister races, two sides of the same coin. Our ambitions, our eccentricities, our instincts are almost identical. If one were destroyed, the other would be far weaker than either side would admit. Though few know nothing of our existence except the legends that we penned ourselves, we have had our hand in some of mankind's greatest accomplishments. We have helped cure diseases and create technological wonders that would not have been possible without centuries of research and dedication." His gaze became distant. "I helped build so many buildings in my time. From Antioch to Paris, I've had my hand on the great cities of the world."

Reginald smiled. "Yes, I know. You've told me many times when we used to work together. It seems the only thing you ever forget is how many times you have told the same story."

Jules laughed. "I suppose that is true."

"We always seem to fall off topic. Would we be worse off without humanity?"

"Oh, goodness, yes. There are a lot of us, but not so many to take mankind lightly. All vampires come from humans. If no humans were ever born again, we would begin the countdown to our own destruction. I have seen so many days, but I will not see all the days this world will provide. One day, I will die. I have seen thousands of vampires killed through accidents or violence. We share the same weaknesses as the humans, so slowly greed would drive many to take from others, and slowly we would dwindle. Along with the fact that they deserve the right to exist, it would be an atrocity."

Reginald smiled and wiped the sweat from his palms onto his pants. "I suppose my true question boils down to this. Have there ever been vampires who have used their abilities for good? To protect the weak that is helpless? Do you know of any examples that you can share?"

Jules began to reach for his cup, but stopped and leaked back once more. "Now that is a unique question," he said, rubbing his hands together thoughtfully. "Truly unique. A majority of vampires still see reasons to keep humanity, though that number is shrinking as I said. There have been small measures to keep humanity preserved, in one form or another, for centuries. Back when we were a young race, and humanity was still spreading, we realized that if we fed to our content, we would outnumber our prey. That was when some of us began to drink animal blood, which was more nutritious for us anyways in some cases. Some continued in their ways, but it was not enough to cause worry. That example does not count because we did it for our sakes, not for theirs. It was an act of self-preservation.

"We are an ambitious species as a whole. It is in our nature to consume, and those with power, consume more power. I am sure that you know many of the world's leaders through the ages were vampires. They were driven to consume anything they wished. There have been several that have realized the necessity of the human race. Though they were not all done with best intentions, they passed laws and regulations to protect humans, and to protect our secret. The first vampire president created the first requiem, allowing us a place to live among our own kind, yet still exist to society as a whole. In the past century, there have been organizations formed within most countries, allowing us to easily change our identities, so that we can continue to exist with minimal suspicion. With technology now, one cannot simply fake his death or disappear without a trace. Now we are run through so many systems just so we can make money, or even use it."

"You are right," Reginald said, nodding. "I've only requested two new IDs, but it is still a hard adjustment to make. Luckily the VAM takes care of the really hard parts."

"Yes, but they are also tracking almost every single vampire in the world," Jules said, scowling. "I understand that it is necessary, but that doesn't make me like it. Let us retreat from that topic."

Reginald paused before saying, "Alright. Getting back to my question, it doesn't seem like any real examples."

"There were vampires who fought in the crusades," Jules replied, cocking his head. "I, for one, saw no need to loose any human blood unless to feed. Several that I knew still held onto their beliefs from before they were transformed and marched off to battle. Those who were intensely sensitive to sunlight kept their helmets and armor on at all times while most others were motivated strongly enough to endure without. Though I believe many had noble goals, their power only brought more bloodshed than would have occurred. Thousands were killed by the noble vampires, which brought no peace to the land. Besides a rumor here or there, the crusaders are the only examples I can think of."

Reginald sighed. "That is not the answer I was hoping for."

"There is another point to consider. Ever since the Primus Senex was formed, we are not allowed to reveal our secret. For centuries it was only greatly encouraged, with the guilty vampire taking the matter into his own hands to correct. For the past four centuries, it has become a law. If one of us reveals what he is, or exposes our kind to the world, the consequences would be dire. As I said, humans would feel threatened, and likely incite war. The guilty party would find himself either sentenced to an eternity of confinement, or death. The council sees only black and white in this regard."

"I see."

They sat in silence for a couple minutes. Reginald felt as if a huge weight was crushing his shoulders. The hopes he had when he arrived had vanished, and were replaced by unease and fear. Finally he glanced at his watch and said, "Well, it is getting early. I want to get home before the sun rises." He began to stand.

"Nonsense, you are my guest," Jules said, jumping to his feet. "You can stay in my spare room. Let me ensure that everything is prepared for visitors." Before Reginald could say anything, Jules had darted out of the room.

"Umm," Reginald called. "I can make it in time. I don't have to stay the day." When there was no response, he called louder. "Really, I'm alright." As the silence continued, he glanced at the door. 'Nothing is stopping me from leaving,' he thought. With a frown, he sat back down in the chair. 'I don't feel like making the trip right now anyway. The old man just wants some company, so it won't hurt me to stay.' Reginald closed his eyes as he waited and wished for better days.

Reginald sat on a park bench staring up at the night sky. He watched as his breath wafted up and disappeared in the night. Though the night was cloudy, the moon was currently visible in the sky. He sighed as distant memories came back. 'It truly is a curse to live so long and be so powerless in this world.'

He looked around to see the Pines Park in its nighttime glory. It was full of coniferous trees, many of which stood several stories high. The park was usually empty except for the few who liked to get out of their houses and see nature. Reginald loved it because it was green all year round and usually quiet. Though modern buildings were just a short distance away, he felt far away from society when he visited. He would sit on the scattered park benches and think for hours on nights he was off. It was empty that night except for a sleepy groundskeeper and a couple homeless men on the other side. He had seen them often, and usually greeted them and offered food when he had money to spare.

After several minutes Reginald glanced at his watch. "Ten-thirty! Seems like it should be later. I just feel like crawling into my apartment and never leaving," he muttered, standing. "But I never want to see it again at the same time. I am so tired of this." He began to slowly make his way home.

The streets were emptier than usual for that time of night. Most of the streets were empty, and he only spotted a couple pedestrians as he walked on. "It must be a late game tonight," he said. "I think Hector was talking about the playoffs being this week." A couple minutes later he glanced in the window of a local bar as he passed. "Yes, and it seems we are winning." He had never cared much for sports, but he was still happy that the city's team was doing well.

Reginald kept walking towards his apartment for several minutes until he heard a loud noise from nearby. He rushed around the next corner to see a woman lying against the wall quietly sobbing. Glancing down the street, he saw a lone figure in dark clothing running away. Frowning, he looked the woman over to see if she was hurt. All he could see wrong was a cut on her forehead where she must have hit her head when she fell against the wall.

"Miss, are you okay," he asked. When she failed to answer, he snapped his fingers. "Focus, focus, please. How hurt are you ma'am?"

The woman blinked a couple times as her eyes narrowed in on Reginald. She slowly looked around. Suddenly, she began to try to struggle to her feet. "A man! A man took my purse!"

Reginald nodded. "Yes, I figured. Are you hurt? Tell me if you are hurt."

The woman stared blankly for a moment before feeling herself over. "No, I'm alright. Just sore." She let Reginald help her to her feet. "Yeah, I'll be alright."

Reginald reached into his pocket and pulled out a cloth rag. He held it to her forehead. "You're bleeding. You need to get your head checked to be sure there's no damage."

"Thanks," she said, putting pressure on the rag. "I'll go to the hospital shortly." She glanced down the street where the man had run. "I would call the cops, but everything I had on me is gone."

"It's okay," he said, taking out his phone. "I'll call them myself."

As Reginald was talking to the cops, the woman stared out into the night. "I can't believe it's gone," he heard her mutter.

After a couple minutes, Reginald put his phone up. "They'll be here soon," he said, following her gaze. "Did you have anything valuable? The police asked, so be prepared to tell them."

"Just my money, my purse I got from Mother, my favorite brand of chewing gum, and my engagement ring that was two sizes too small," she said, breaking into tears with her last words. "He had just proposed last night. I said yes. Damn it! Give it back, give it back!"

Reginald placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry. I'm sure the police will find your possessions."

"No they won't," she said, her sobbing getting worse. "I've lost it forever, and I've lost him forever. My life is over."

Reginald struggled to stay in control. "Ma'am, go inside that coffee shop there and order whatever you want," he said, taking out his wallet. "Here is twenty dollars. Go get warmed up and calm your nerves before the police arrive. Remember, it is important to stay positive in these situations."

The woman stared at the money for a moment. "I can't. I really can't. I don't feel comfortable taking money from people."

He took her hand and forced the bill inside. "I insist. I've got to go," he said, beginning to walk away. "I hope everything works out for you."

The woman stood and watched him numbly for several moments before staggering inside the coffee shop. Once again the street was clear.

After a couple minutes Reginald ducked into an alley. 'Am I really going to do this?' he asked himself. 'Can I really do this, despite everything? Can I?' He thought of the woman's tears and all the tears and bloodshed he had seen throughout his life. 'All unnecessary!' he thought, slamming his fist into the wall behind him. 'Why doesn't somebody put a stop to it? Why do I have to feel obligated to do it? Why?' As he mulled over his thoughts, his blood began to flow faster through his veins. He began to feel every sense increase. As his anger grew, the world began to come alive. 'I can't wait for someone else. There are no heroes in this world.'

Reginald sniffed the air. 'That must be him,' he thought, feeling his fangs begin to slide down. 'Got to move or the scent will mingle.' He strode back out onto the street and began to walk quickly with light steps. His ears took in every sound within one hundred yards, filtering each in an instant. He could hear a man shouting at the television ten stories up because his team was losing. He could hear a pair of dogs mating in an alley as he passed by. He heard a car being cranked on the next street. He heard no clues to the man he was chasing.

Luckily as he came to another street corner, the scent became stronger. Reginald leaned towards the wall and sniffed. He smiled. "He leaned here to catch his breath. I've got him!' He began to sniff around a perimeter but was interrupted when he heard a garbage can fall over in the vicinity. Instinctively, Reginald darted off towards the sound.

The second street over had small houses lined all along it facing the Soares River. As Reginald walked out of an alley onto the street, he heard a man nearby swearing under his breath and the sounds of garbage being handled. He walked along the sidewalk, huddled near the fence to where he could stay mostly out of sight. His steps made no noise as he walked.

Soon, the scent and noise intensified. Reginald glanced over the fence and saw a man standing a garbage can upright, still swearing under his breath. Reginald noticed that the light blue purse under his arm contrasted with his dark clothes. Reginald sniffed deeply one last time. 'That's definitely him,' he thought, feeling a surge of strength flow through him. Without hesitating, he leaped over the fence and knocked the man down as he began to climb the steps to his porch. With a thunk, the man's head hit the steps and quit moving.

Reginald felt his blood freeze. "Did I kill him?" muttered, looking around. He reached down and felt of the man's pulse. Though it was faint, it was steady. Reginald let out a relieved sigh.

"Umm, what do I do now?" he wondered out loud. "If he wakes up and just goes about his business, then I've made no difference. I've got to keep him from getting away." Reginald stood there another few moments. "This isn't perfect, but it will have to do."

Glancing around another time, Reginald took off the man's coat and tied one sleeve around his right wrist. Hoisting the thief up against the porch, he looped the coat through the iron railing along the side of the porch. With the man's arm stretched completely back, he twisted the coat and tied the other sleeve to the man's left wrist, securing him in place.

"That should hold him for a while, I think," Reginald said, looking over his handiwork. He stood there for another moment before shaking his head. "One more thing to do." He reached into the man's pockets and fumbled around until he found the cell phone he was certain was there. After taking a deep breath, he dialed 911 and waited for a response.

"Hello, 911, please state your emergency," a woman's voice came over the other end.

"Umm, uh," he started, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat and spoke in a deeper voice. "There is a man tied up at one four one near the corner of Rolfe and Matai streets. I am certain that he has stolen property." Before the woman could say anything else he canceled the call. Smiling to himself, he tossed the phone back down on the ground in front of the man. 'I think I've done something good,' he thought to himself.

The thief groaned and slowly shook his head. "What happened?" he asked, forcing his eyes open. He tried to rub the grogginess from his eyes, but he couldn't move his arms. "What the hell?" he said, looking over his shoulders to see his arms tied. He struggled to get free but the knots were too tight. He looked all around him but saw no one.

"Who did this? Come out!" he shouted. I'll get you for this! You won't escape me!" He noticed the dropped purse several feet away. He began to struggle even more intensely. As the phone began ringing in front of him, he began to swear louder as the knot dug in deeper as he struggled. He finally gave up the struggle once a policeman found him several minutes later.

Reginald could hear his heart beating in his ears. 'I can't believe I did that, I can't believe I did that,' he kept repeating in his mind. He looked at his hands and noticed they were shaking intensely. He balled them into fists and stuck them in his pockets, but he couldn't stop the shaking. He saw the frozen breath coming out in a constant stream as he walked forward. "I've got to calm down," he muttered.

He was walking along the street by the river as a police car passed. A huge smile broke out on his face. 'What if he's going to arrest him?' he thought. Reginald struggled to keep his giddy laughter contained. He noticed the entrance to Midnight Storage ahead of him. 'I can collect my thoughts there.' He increased his pace. The place was empty as it normally was at night. He steadied his hands enough to open his compartment. He breathed deeply as he stepped inside. He lit a candle and sat down at his desk.

"I think I did the right thing," he said to the empty room. "If everyone only keeps looking out for themselves, nothing will ever change." He looked at the cramped room. "If I don't do this, I won't ever change." His eyes slowly drifted through the room. "So many memories. So many happy ones. So many sad ones. So many regrets." His eyes lingered for a long time on a sword mounted on the wall. After a minute, he walked over to it.

The sword was resting in an old wooden mount. It was three feet long and made of bright steel. The cross-guard was made of gold and the handle was made of ivory. Reginald ran his fingers up and down to blade, feeling the cold metal with his fingertips. He gripped the handle and lifted it easily from the wall. Holding it up, he saw the candlelight glimmering on its blade. He struggled to keep from shedding a tear as a distant memory flooded his mind.

Reginald felt a powerful force collide with his blade, sending him backwards into the hard ground behind him. His entire body was filled with pain, while blood dripped from scratches all over. His breathing came out ragged as he tried to keep conscious. He felt like he close to death.

"Get up," he heard his father say. After he didn't move, the words were repeated. "Get up."

Reginald tried to push himself up, but fell facedown into the dirt. He groaned as the dirt rubbed into his wounds. He tried again, but had no luck.

"You are one of the vampire, Reginald," his father said. "You were not made to lie in the mud like the filth you came from. Get up."

Reginald just lay there, struggling to breath. After a moment he heard footsteps approaching. He managed to turn his head enough to see the feet of his father standing directly in front of him.

"You have three seconds to move," his father said. "After that, you are no true son of mine, nor will you ever be. You will be a mistake I shall ignore forever."

Reginald felt tears begin to stream down his cheeks as he pushed with all of his might to stand. After what felt like an eternity of struggle, he felt his arms go limp and he crashed once more. Before he could move again, he felt a powerful pain explode in his guts. He began to convulse as the pain grew worse.

"Anthony!" he heard his mother scream.

"If you wish to keep your son, then see to his wounds quickly. I will return in several weeks," his father said.

"Mother," Reginald gasped, his vision beginning to blur.

"Hold on, Reginald," his mother said, rushing to his side. Reginald screamed as she pulled the sword from his back and flung it to the ground beside him. His screams echoed through the forest as he slowly lost consciousness.

"Why?" Reginald asked, laying his hand on his stomach. There was no scar showing the severe trauma, except for the memory. "You truly did hate me, but why?" He stared at the glimmering sword. He slashed and stabbed with it several times, feeling the wind and hearing sound as the sword cut the air. He smiled sadly. "You gave up teaching, but I watched from the shadows. I learned more than you think. I just have to hope I can put the knowledge to practice."

He looked over and saw the red and blue flannel jacket from before lying on a chair. He looked at his watch and took in a deep breath. "Just past midnight. This night is far from over."