Vampire World (5 page)

I
eased the top open and kept it that way. I felt more relaxed knowing that I
could breathe, yet still couldn’t manage to fall asleep on its cold floor.

Still,
complaining was frivolous. I had a lot to be thankful for. At least I was not
at the orphanage any longer.

I
stepped out of the casket and turned the light on. On impulse, I then decided
to look out of the window. There were at least three of those beautiful trees
with the twinkling leaves in the back yard. And Garlic Moon looked even more
impressive at night.

Suddenly,
something blocked my pretty view. A figure wearing a black mask peered right in
at me. I jumped back and turned away.

“There's
someone in the backyard!” I screamed out. “Come quick!”

JOB HUNT

I
expected to see Mr. FreeCut come bursting through the door. But no one came. As
I ran through into the shadowy living room, Ernie dashed out of what appeared
to be a miniature coffin to greet me, letting out a whiny scream.
 
I hesitated, afraid that he was going to
poke me with his horn. Instead, I felt his icy tongue against my leg.

“Mr.
FreeCut! Where are you?”

I
heard footsteps, and moments later he appeared.

“What’s
wrong?” he asked. “Sorry I didn’t hear you right away. My coffin lid blocks out
most noises.”

I
explained to him what I had seen. He told me to stay where I was while he went
outside to investigate. He returned quite soon.

“I
didn’t see anyone,” he said. “It’s okay though. Ernie would have gone crazy if
someone had come onto the property.”

Maybe
he was right?
But
I knew I'd seen someone…somebody checking me
out….

I
decided to forget about my stalker and go try again to sleep inside my coffin.

I
must have been successful because I woke up with my head pounding in agony from
the lack of a pillow. The scarlet glow from the three suns was filtering in
through the window.

“Breakfast
is ready,” Mr. FreeCut called out.

Captivated
by the smell of blood, I trotted into the kitchen still wearing my nightgown
and with my hair a rumpled mess. My eyes widened when I saw what was on the
table. Blood eggs! But these were much bigger than the ones served up at the
orphanage, and a lot cleaner too.

“Janice,
please stay inside today and tomorrow,” Mr. FreeCut advised. “It’s not safe to
go outside without someone to show you around. I really tried to get off work
today, but my stupid boss wouldn’t let me. Sorry.”

I
reluctantly agreed, then asked him what kind of job he had. He said he was a
badly paid slave at some kind of plant. I felt sorry for him.

“I’ll
give you a coupon so you can order a blood pizza delivery for lunch,” he said
before leaving the house. “If you get extra thirsty, grab some blood from the
fridge.”

From
the front window, I watched him drive off in his hideous car. After that I sat
down on the hard slab and cranked on the TV. Flipping the channels, it was one
violent vampire movie after another, with occasional commercial breaks
advertising blood mugs, some uncanny clothing, or dark shades.

Quickly
bored with this, I turned off the TV and watched from the front window as an
endless stream of black cars passed by. Then I investigated the backyard.
Beautiful Garlic Moon rose above the fence.

I
glanced back at my bedroom window, through which I was still sure I'd seen a
masked figure. With a small jolt of surprise I spotted something resting on the
window sill. It was a note, held in place by a small stone. I picked it up and
read it.

'Janice,
I’ve been secretly watching you. I want you to know the truth. And if you
cooperate with me, you will soon discover it. Keep this letter a secret. Keep
everything a secret.'

With
a rush of anger, I ripped up the piece of paper. I knew it! Someone really was
there last night. Had Mr. FreeCut not seen the note on the sill? Or maybe the
person had still been hiding in the yard and snuck it up there after he'd gone
back inside?

I
returned to the house and slumped down on the uncomfortable couch. My surge of
anger soon faded to bored and lonely. I was so restless, I could pull out my
pretty black hair. I was not meant to live like this. I had just left a prison,
and now it seemed like I was in another.

Turning
the TV back on, I caught an ad for the RazorCut Mall. Great shopping. Food.
Fun. Sounded like a top destination.

I
ran to my room and grabbed the credit card that Mr. FreeCut had left me. I
didn’t know how much money was on it; probably not a great deal, but I didn’t
care. I had to leave. I was too young to be cooped up like this, even if it was
dangerous outside.

I
checked my drawer for clothes. An ugly, black wrinkled shirt and a pair of torn
brown shorts that dropped below my knees were all I could find. I was forced to
put on shoes that looked like something a granny would wear. But I didn’t
complain, even though I would have rather have gone in the nude then wear this
trash. But that would have been way too daring, not to mention very stupid.

Clutching
the keys, I locked the front door and headed off in the direction of the train
station, trying my best to forget about the pressure from the light. I found
the street level entrance easily enough.

After
descending the stairs, I inserted my card into the machine and told it where I
wanted to go. It replied in an automated voice that this journey would cost me
five Carns, which I guessed was what passed for money around here. I also found
out that I had one hundred and fifteen Carns remaining on the card. If I took
the train every day, that would add up pretty darn quickly. It was clear I
needed to find a job.

On
the train I was forced to sit by a bunch of obnoxious peeping vamps. One was an
old man with a thick grayish beard, another a young boy with a fang-shaped
goatee and an attractive face. But the freaky way he peeped at me made him
appear repulsive, and this was made worse still when I noticed his even
freakier necklace with a skull dangling from it. I turned my head quickly away
after we went eye-to-eye.

It
was almost like the entire train was stalking me. Everyone seemed hungry for
me.

The
train finally halted and I climbed the stairs back to ground level. Here, I
found myself standing in a hefty parking lot. Cars were everywhere, all of them
black, although some were much more souped up than others. A group of vampires
who'd got off the train with me began heading for a big ruby building in the
distance. This must be the mall, I told myself.

While
moving closer to it in the faint light, I sensed someone was stalking me. I
looked back and saw a figure duck behind a car. I could have sworn it was one
of the freaks on the train, but I kept going anyway.

On
reaching the front of RazorCut mall I quickly noticed that there was no door to
enter by. Instead, I was faced by a giant mechanical vampire head with reeking
fangs hanging out of its mouth. I pressed a button and the mouth opened. After
passing inside, the teeth clasped shut behind me until someone else was ready
to walk in.

The
interior was dark and shadowy, but I could see clearly enough. Again, all eyes
were on me as I passed by some very odd stores. One of them, a place called the
Vampire Room, was selling some pretty iconic stuff for the bedroom. Amongst its
many offerings were giant lava lamps filled with blood and rotating skulls;
whips and chains of all sizes; and a variety of posters featuring bleeding
hearts, bloody animals and bones.

To
my left was the Coffin Plaza, lined with perhaps a hundred coffins that
stretched way back. Some were very roomy and pretty nice to look at as well.
One next to the front window was massive and had rubies embedded all over it.
Then I saw the price tag - ten thousand Carns. I had less than a hundred. Gosh,
I felt broke.

I
paid attention to the other vampires. Everyone seemed better dressed than I
was. The girls were wearing tight and sexy clothing, unusual but pretty makeup,
and very Gothic necklaces, bracelets and earrings. Their hair was twisted and
braided into strange, cool patterns. Mine just fell off my head and hung
straight down behind my back. I really stood out.

“Looks
like she forgot to get dressed,” I heard one of the girls say.

Another
girl called me a vamp tramp as I passed by. I wanted to scream vamp bitch back
at her, but I was interrupted by a group of guys all dressed in dark colors
gazing pretty hard at me. With matching spiky red and black hair and some
unflappable tattoos and piercings, they were actually pretty hot in an
unexpected way.

“I
bet I could nail her in a coffin real quick,” one of them chuckled to his
friends.

Feeling
hurt and so alone, I turned and walked angrily away. Everyone acted like major
assholes in this world. Well, everyone except Mr. FreeCut. I hated this place.
I didn’t belong here and I wanted to go…..
home
…
 

What
the hell was I complaining about? This was home!

After
moving swiftly though the crowd, I glanced back to make sure I was far enough
away from those goons. I didn’t see them. Instead, I spotted the young vampire
who'd been giving me the creeps on the train. He was right behind me.
 
I gazed into his incriminating eyes for
a second, then ran as fast as I could, attracting even more attention as I
zoomed through the raucous crowd.

After
a time I slowed down and gathered some courage, mostly because I couldn't see
my stalker any more. I wasn't going to let this wannabe rapist nut scare me, I
told myself.

I
was now standing by what appeared to be a food court. Red tables and black
chairs were scattered everywhere. An impressive indoor fountain spewed a
sparkling emerald-colored substance into the air. I read the sign alongside.

'Welcome
to DeathCourt. Serving the best hot blood and bloody bagels in Vampire World'.

 
Below this, another much smaller notice
read:
'Now Hiring'.

I
needed a job, so I asked the pale-faced waiter for an application form. He
gazed at me like I was some sort of alien before eventually returning with one.
I filled it out the best I could, lying about my past work experience as a
waitress because frankly, I couldn’t remember experiencing any kind of work in
the past. I couldn’t even remember my street address, so I just made up a name:
4687 BloodCourt.

My
address….my address…how the hell was I going to get home?

Shaking,
I handed the waiter my application.

“Hold
on, I’ll go get the manager,” he said.

Five
minutes later a tall middle-aged vampire with dark prickly hair introduced
himself. “I’m Fred Slicer, general manager of DeathCourt.”

His
eyes locked on to me like I was Barbie or a monster. This constant attention
was getting ridiculous. He checked out my application.

“Well
Ms. Janice…”

He
gave me a dirty look. “You forgot to put your last name.”

OMG…OMG…my
last name…what the hell was it? Oh yes…..

“FreeCut,”
I said out of the blue, then quickly apologized for being so stupid.

He
scanned over the rest of my application. “So you’ve had some experience of
working in the blood industry?”

I
nervously nodded my head, all the time paying attention to his monstrous fangs
and expecting him to ask me questions that would kill my chances of getting the
job.

“Well,
we’re desperate for people, so I’ll give you a chance. You can start tomorrow
at twenty-five degrees sharp.”

I
wondered what twenty-five degrees meant. I would have to ask Mr. FreeCut.

He
noticed my clothes. “Uniforms will be provided for you. And I can promise it
will look a lot nicer than what you’re wearing now.”

I
should have been offended, but I wasn’t. I had a job - a chance to actually make
money.
 
Should I tell Mr. FreeCut?
No, I decided. I would keep this a secret as well, just like the mysterious
note left on the window sill.

It
was nearly time to head home, but I decided to make one more stop at a chic
looking store called Vampire Chick before heading back to the train station.

Inside
was a selection of awesome makeup; the kind I'd seen many of the other young
girls wearing. One type caused the eyes and face to sparkle like fairy dust,
while another made the skin glow an attractive scarlet color wherever it was
dabbed on. Both started at fifty Carns, which was a whopping half of the money
in my account.

I
marveled over the purses too. All of them were black, grey or red and made out
of real tough looking fabric. Some had imprints of skulls on them, while others
had fangs, severed bleeding arms, or just plain peculiar Gothic artwork. I
checked out one decorated with a bloody heart. The heart dripped with fake
blood that collected in a pool at the bottom. It looked so real. There was something
about a heart that attracted me. I wanted this purse. I read the price: it was
eighty Carns. Gosh, why was everything was so expensive?

Nevertheless,
I grabbed the purse and got into line. I loved it.

Just
as I pulled out my card to pay, from the corner of my eye I spotted a figure
gazing at me. I felt a jolt of fear. It was my stalker.
He was right here in the store!

The
clerk swiped my card and gave it back to me with a receipt. As soon as she did,
clutching my new purse tightly, I ran hell for leather out of the place.