Reginald Baxter the Vigilante Vampire (8 page)

BOOK: Reginald Baxter the Vigilante Vampire
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He reached behind a nearby dresser and pulled out a leather-bound sheath that was attached to a strap. He smiled as he heard the scraping of metal against metal as he put the sword in the sheath it was made for. He slung it over his shoulder, feeling the weight of the sword on his back. He grabbed the coat and put it on over the sheath, covering everything but the grip that stuck out from the collar. He took out a battered gray cap from a drawer and placed it on his head.

"I need something to help cover my face," he said, looking all around the room. He saw a dark blue handkerchief on a table. "I could, but that would make me look like quite the bandit." He continued to look. His eyes stopped on a helmet on a shelf toward the back of the room. "Overkill and horrible visibility." He sighed and grabbed the handkerchief after another minute of looking. "This will do for now. I'll try to find something better later." He wrapped the handkerchief over his face and securely tied it in the back. He glanced in a mirror and saw that it covered the lower half of his face while the cap shadowed his eyes. "That will do," he said, smiling.

Reginald stepped to the door and sighed. He reached up and felt of the hilt of the sword. "Tonight will change things for the better," he said, walking out into the night.

Chapter 8

A woman stepped out from her apartment into the cold night. She glanced up at the nearby streetlight. Noticing that it was flickering, she sighed. "Why can't they hurry up and fix the damn thing?" Carefully watching her footing, she walked towards her car. She fished out her keys and fumbled to unlock the door. As she pulled the door open, she felt someone roughly push her roughly into the side of the car. Before she could scream, she felt a hand clamp tightly over her mouth.

"Silence will keep you alive," a harsh voice said into her ear.

She struggled to twist her head around to see her attacker, but the pressure was increased, making her gasp in pain.

She felt something cold and hard brush against her temple. "Cooperate, and I won't have to use this."

The woman became completely still as she fought to keep her nerves steady. 'Oh, why me?' she thought to herself.

"This is a nice car," the voice said. "Let go the keys to my new ride, lady."

She let the car keys drop to the ground. Poking the gun into the small of her back, the thief bent over and picked them up. Smiling, he grabbed her purse. "I bet there's some good stuff in here too, right?"

'Really, why me?' she thought again. She gasped as she felt hands groping around her waist. "What are you doing?" she cried.

"Shh," the man said, putting the gun back to her head. "Just making sure you're not holding out on me. I'm not enjoying this, much." She felt him squeeze her buttock. Laughing, he slid his hand into her pocket and took out her phone. "Ah, not bad. This'll fetch some nice cash. Now turn around slowly to the wall. Keep your eyes down. If you look at me, I'll be the last person you see."

The woman eased around the dark sidewalk until she was facing the wall near her car. She hoped desperately for the sound of a passing car, but the streets were completely deserted. The man had picked his timing perfectly. She placed her hands on the wall and leaned her forehead against the cold bricks.

"Alright, just don't turn around and nothing bad will happen to you," the man said. As he turned to get in the car, he saw a man leaning against it. "Woah, where'd you come from?" he shouted, pointing his gun at the stranger.

"What? Are you playing games now?" the woman asked, anger creeping into her voice despite the fear.

"Shut up. You got a death wish, pal?" the thief asked as the stranger stepped closer. After a moment of silence, he said, "So you're choosing silence as your last words."

"You told me to shut up!" the woman cried. "Are you that deluded?"

"Woman, I said shut up!" the thief yelled, turning his gun towards her. Before another word could be spoken, the stranger leaped forward and sliced off the thief's trigger finger in one swing of his sword. He sputtered and gasped as the gun fell from his hand with a clatter.

"You will no longer carry such a deadly weapon in my city again," the stranger said calmly. "Remember this when you return to society. I will allow no one to harm others."

The thief fell down and scrambled backwards along the sidewalk on his backside. The woman finally turned around to see the spectacle taking place. She watched as her heroic stranger walked forward as the thief tried to keep away.

"Resistance will serve you little," the stranger said. "The cops are already on their way. You will serve your proper sentence."

The thief scooted another several feet before falling onto his back. She heard him sobbing as he gripped his hand to suppress the blood and the pain.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" the stranger asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said, walking forward. "Thank you, so much."

The stranger grunted as he sheathed his sword. He stepped over to the man and took the woman's keys, purse, and phone. Walking calmly to her, he handed them to her. "Here are your possessions."

Up close, she could tell little about him. His eyes were just glints underneath his cap and his face was covered by a bandanna like in the old westerns. "Who are you?"

The man seemed taken aback. "Umm," he uttered, trying to come up with some sort of response. He jerked as heard sirens in the distance. "When they get here, tell them what happened. Tell them that I'm a defenderd for the this city." He turned and started to run away, but stopped after a few steps. "Defender. I'm a defender."

Before she could say anything, he had already turned a corner. "Wait," she called sprinting to the corner and looking for him, but he was already out of sight. She turned and walked back towards her car as she heard sirens became closer. "Wow, this will be quite the story at work tomorrow," she said, seeing blue lights approaching from up the street.

 

Reginald leaned against a light pole several blocks away. 'Wow, I can't believe I missed the wrist, but I can't argue about the results,' he thought, letting a grin break out on his face. 'She was so grateful. Why haven't I been doing this all along?'

The smile remained plastered on his face as he kept walking up and down the streets. He kept his senses on full alert as he patrolled, hearing any sound and sensing any movement around him. There were several false alarms that he checked on. A girl was crying in her house because her boyfriend had left her to devote more time to video games. A brother and sister were having a fistfight a couple stories up on one street. Reginald climbed a fire escape to check and was impressed when she knocked the wind from her brother and claimed the remote. He believed a man was dying in some bushes in a park, but embarrassed the both of them when he realized the man had eaten something that disagreed with him. The sight and smell caused Reginald to retreat quickly.

He did have to stop several times and let his body relax. Vampires were built to hunt, but their bodies were made for finding prey quickly. Though heart attacks weren't a worry, intense and prolonged activity could make them feel weakened. After each rest, Reginald focused on violent images, letting his anger surge and bring him back to full power.

Reginald was walking by a row of apartments when he looked at his watch. "Wow, four thirty already," he said. "I better wrap this up soon."

As he turned to begin the long walk home, his ears detected a worrisome noise come from one of the apartments.He kept listening and heard it again. It sounded like muffled cries. He also thought he heard something like wood scraping along a floor. Swiftly he made his way towards the apartments, trying to narrow down the source of the sound. Realizing it was coming from upstairs, he leaped up the stairs four at a time and began to check every door and window. As the sound became closer, he noticed one of the doors open just a crack.

Reginald slowly reached out and gently pushed the door open. Seeing only darkness inside, he pulled out a small flashlight and shone it in the room. Inside, he saw a horrible mess. Furniture was overturned and torn, with books and papers ripped up and littering the floor. The main thing he noticed was the woman tied up and gagged in the center of the room. She sat in a chair facing the door, looking terrified as she saw Reginald. Tears were streaming from her red and swollen eyes. She was dressed in a light night shirt, allowing Reginald to see several small bruises forming on her arms and legs. Other than those, she seemed unharmed.

"Are you alright?" Reginald asked, stepping to the edge of the door.

For a moment, she seemed confused. Then she quickly started grunting through her gag. Reginald couldn't understand anything she was saying. He tried to take a step forward, but a wave of nausea passed over him, making him fall against the door frame. "Oh, no," he muttered, wiping his face with his sleeve. He stared down at the small doorstep like it was a wall. "Why?"

He looked up and saw the woman eyeing him strangely. He nudged his foot forward, but as soon as the tip of his shoe passed over the threshold, he felt as if his stomach was about to turn inside out. He quickly withdrew his foot backwards, allowing the feeling to pass.

"Umm, this is hard to explain," Reginald said, scratching his head nervously. "I have, umm, OCD, yeah, and I can't actually intrude into another person's space without being specifically invited."

The woman remained completely still.

"Yeah, I know, it's weird, but I get sick when I do. I admit that I'm a weirdo."

There was no response.

"I can't help it, my parents made me this way."

No response.

"So, can I come in or not?"

The woman provided a series of grunts.

"Did you just invite me in?"

The woman nodded.

Reginald went to take a step forward, but stopped as his gut constricted.

"I'm so sorry, but that didn't work," he said. "Nod your head if it's alright. Can I come in?"

The woman nodded, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

Reginald tried to step forward, but again he was stopped.

"Damn," he muttered. "I thought that might work. How about this. Blink once for yes and twice for no. Can I come in?"

The woman rolled her eyes.

"I really am sorry, it just my tick I have to live with. Can I please come in?"

The woman leaned forward as far as she could and focused deeply on Reginald as she blinked once. He got sick again as he tried to step forward.

"Okay, maybe I need to wait. I bet my mind was expecting you to blink again. One more time, can I come in?"

The woman focused even harder on Reginald and blinked once. He slowly counted to thirty as the woman struggled not to blink again. With confidence, Reginald stepped into the room and immediately vomited violently all over the floor. As his eyesight dimmed, he luckily fell backwards out of the room. For a couple of minutes, he sat against the railing and tried to catch his breath.

Once he felt stronger, he slowly stood and looked back into the room. The woman looked at him sadly. She could tell that he was trying.

"Alright," he said, looking up. "Alright, think of something." He struggled to come up with a plan, but nothing new came to mind. Shaking his head, he looked back at her. "You wouldn't happen to know morse code?"

The woman shook her head.

"Yeah, that would be too easy."

The woman made some strange noises that sounded like laughter.

Reginald smiled. "It shouldn't seem easy. You're right."

He stood there for a few more moment staring at the scene. He noticed her grunting heavily. "What is it?" he asked, refocusing on her. She motioned to the side with her head.

She kept moving her head to the side, then she began to alternate between staring at the wall and moving her head. Reginald looked that way and saw nothing of interest. "Is something wrong with the wall?"

She shook her head and began to grunt again. "What are you saying to me?" Reginald asked, trying to focus on her grunts. "Grrrheee? Great? No, umm, grit her? I don't know." The woman began to lose patience and tried more forcefully. Reginald frowned. "Go to hell? I'm sorry ma'am, but I'm trying my best here." She shook her head and tried again. He looked at the wall a moment, then slapped his forehead. "Get help, right?" She quickly began nodding her head.

"Sheesh, why didn't I think of that earlier?" he said. "I'll go get your neighbor. Don't go anywhere"

She rolled her eyes as he stepped backwards. As he turned to go next door, he bumped into what felt like a wall in his path. He shivered for the first time in decades as warm, foul breath washed over him. "Let us not bring more food to the table," a deep voice said in the darkness.

He looked up and saw a lumbering humanoid gazing down at him. The figure was blocking the light, making any attempt to identify the intruder impossible. The only thing Reginald could see was the massive build of the person. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice coming out weakly.

He heard a chilling laugh. "I have gone by many names, but my favorite is Death. That is my gift to most."

Reginald reached for his sword, but before he could draw it, a powerful hand flashed out and pushed him backwards. 'No!' he thought, feeling himself falling into the room. As his body touched the floor, he felt as if his innards were being torn to shreds. He vomited and when nothing was left, foamy bile kept flowing upwards, causing him to gag violently.

"Heh, I believed you smelled of those bloodsuckers," the creature said, stepping inside. "You seem far too young to be any match for me, but your blood will taste most delicious. Let me feed on her so I can relish you." Through hazy vision, Reginald saw the figure walk over him to the woman. He saw the frightened look on her face as it bent over and sniffed of her. Reginald fought against losing consciousness. 'Why am I still so weak?' he asked himself.

Tears flowed from the woman's eyes as the creature licked over her cheeks and face. "Delicious, but not as tasty as I wished," it growled. "To know me, is to know death, girl. Fear death."

'No,' Reginald thought, pushing against the ground with all his might. Every single muscle in his body was quivering through pain and exertion. 'This time, I have the power to defend. I have to.' The increasing pain surged, but he let it feed his anger. Every single throb fueled more pain and more anger as he finally rose to his feet. His eyesight was obscured by tears, but his nose and ears allowed him to hone in on the creature's location. With one last burst of anger, Reginald drew his sword and flew forward.

BOOK: Reginald Baxter the Vigilante Vampire
5.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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