Dead Tired

Dead Tired
By Sara King

         Rick was dead tired.

         Not just tired, but tired of being dead.

         Thus, he went to the bar fully intending to drink himself into a stupor and then sleep in the alley until the sun came out to fry him.

         Instead, when he ordered his screaming orgasm from the bartender, a pleasant female voice down the bar said, “I’ll have one, too.”

         Rick glanced at her.

         She was beautiful. Like the sunrises he only vaguely remembered. She had curly auburn hair pulled back on either side, with just enough left to frame her freckled, blue-eyed face. She had a natural tan and her brows weren’t plucked to extinction. Her delicate chin had a tiny point, leading down to a slender neck, proud shoulders, and two cantaloupe-sized—

         “What’s your name?” the woman asked.

         Rick blinked, tearing his eyes back to her face. “Huh?”

         “Your name. What is it?” Her eyes sparkled good-naturedly, as if to say she knew exactly why he couldn’t remember his own name, and thought it was cute.

         “Rick.”

         “I’m Mollie. You always drink alone, Rick?”

         “Yeah.”

         Her delicate brows furrowed. “Don’t you have any friends?”

         Rick snorted and swallowed his orgasm. “Like who?”

         “Like other vampires?”

         Rick sprayed his drink over half the counter, earning a dark scowl from the bartender. He was still choking, wiping his mouth, as he said, “Excuse me?”

         “Like other umpires.” She motioned at his dark clothes and ball cap. “What’d you think I said?”

         Rick stared at her.

         Her head cocked a little. “You’re not an umpire? The game just got out…I thought I saw you down on the field.”

         Rick glanced down at himself. Did he look fat, bald, and ornery?

         “Sorry,” she said, grinning. “My mistake. My nephew’s in Little League. Just got back from the game. Was gonna harass you about some of your calls.”

         Looking into her beautiful baby blues, Rick thought, You can harass me any time. Instead, he said, “I don’t care much for baseball.”

         Mollie rolled her eyes. “Then you’re lying. All guys care about baseball. My sister married such a baseball fanatic—he tried to start a fight tonight when the ump struck out his son. Parents from both teams had to drag him off the field. And this was Little League. I wouldn’t be caught dead married to that guy.”

         Rick heard himself blurt, “Are you married?”

         She laughed, her blue eyes flashing. “Would I be sitting alone at a bar, flirting with strangers if I was?”

         “Maybe.” She frowned. Quickly, Rick said, “I don’t know. No. Probably not.” Her frown deepened. He sank his sharp incisors into his lip and waited, deciding silence was better than putting his foot back into his mouth.

         Instead of storming off to find someone else to entertain her, she laughed. “You’re cute, you know that?”

         Rick found himself staring at her again.

         It’s nice when they’re not screaming I’m a monster, he thought.

         “So where you from, Rick?”

         “Originally? Europe.”

         “I thought I detected a trace of an accent. You’ve been in America awhile, then, haven’t you?”

         “Oh yes.”

         “I know.” The woman sighed and pushed her drink across the counter with a slender finger. “It just gets old, doesn’t it?”

         “You have no idea.”

         “Oh, I think I do.” She took up her drink and downed it, then asked the bartender for more. “Sometimes life’s a drag.” Her glass returned, full. As she drank it, they talked about real estate, which was what Mollie did to pay the bills. Rick found it fascinating, how easy it was to find good homes nowadays. Just a click of a button. He was so enthralled in her conversation that he forgot to order his own drinks, just watched her down orgasm after orgasm.

         “I’ve got a motto,” Mollie said, setting her drink on the bar beside her just a little too hard. “You wanna hear it?”

         “Sure,” Rick said.

         “It’s this.” She leaned forward, peering into his eyes. “If a guy can have a normal conversation with me without staring at my boobs for half of it, that’s the guy I wanna take home.”

         Rick’s eyes reflexively flicked back down to her enormous breasts and she laughed.

         “Not fair,” Rick muttered.

         “So Rick. That short for anything?”

         “Richard.”

         “As in Richard the Lionheart?”

         “Exactly.”

         “Why don’t you call yourself Richard? I like it better. Sounds less…sleazy.”

         Rick’s brows went up. “Sleazy?”

         She waved a hand, obviously well past the legal limit. “Yeah. Reminds me of poker players. Hustlers. Pool sharks.”

         “I don’t play poker, but I can hold my own at billiards.”

         Her blue eyes lit up. “You’re on.”

         Before Rick quite knew what had happened, he’d spent the entire night flirting with a human, getting soundly whipped at pool, and enjoying every minute of it.

         Unfortunately, when the bartender gave the last call, Rick was far from being as intoxicated as he knew he’d have to be in order to not wake up the next morning.

         That, and Mollie was too inebriated to drive herself home.

         Making a split-second decision, Rick abandoned his plans of dying in the morning and drove Mollie home in his pickup.

         “Which house is yours?” Rick asked, slowing his truck along the street.

         She peered into the darkness with all the concentration of the truly drunk. “That one,” she said, pointing at the last minute.

         Rick pulled off the road and parked outside her door. He half-dragged, half-carried her to her front steps. By that time, she was almost unconscious. Somehow, she found her keys and let herself in.

         Rick stayed on the porch, unable to step into the threshold.

         As soon as Mollie was inside, she slumped heavily to the floor and stayed there.

         “Mollie?” Rick called, concerned.

         She grunted.

         “Mollie, can I come in?”

         “Unnngh.”

         Rick gave the door frame a nervous glance. He wasn’t quite sure that qualified as an invitation, and the last time he’d stepped into a home without permission, he’d felt as if someone had wrapped him with electrical wire and turned on the juice.

         “Mollie? I need you to tell me I can come in.”

         She said nothing. She was sleeping.

         Rick glanced at the starlit night. He still had time to get home and out of the sunlight, but he wanted to make sure Mollie was okay, or at least shut the door so no one saw her lying there in passing.

         Rick bent down and picked up one of the worn pink sandals outside her door and lobbed it at her. It hit her in the back of the head and she groaned.

         “Mollie? Just wake up and tell me I can come in and help you, okay?”

         She responded by vomiting on her clean white carpet.

         Rick winced. Maybe I shouldn’t have let her drink so much.

         He picked up another sandal and threw it.

         “What?!” she slurred, though she didn’t raise her head off the floor.

         “Hey,” Rick said. “Let me in.”

         “The door’s open,” Mollie muttered. “Stop throwing things at me, jerk.”

         Frustrated, Rick said, “Tell me I can come in.”

         “Ohhhhhh, man. Somebody shoot me.” She vomited again.

         “Tell me I can come in!” He threw her Welcome mat.

         “You can come in!” she screamed.

         “You guys shut up down there!” someone shouted out the apartment window above them.

         Tentatively, Rick poked his finger through the entryway. When he was not shocked senseless, he stepped inside, neatly avoided the vomit, and shut the door behind him. He then went around the room, pulling the drapes, securing blankets over those windows that did not have them.

         “What are you doing?” Mollie moaned from the floor.

         “Blocking out the light,” Rick said.

         “Yeah,” Mollie said, “That’s a good idea. I’m gonna have one hell of a hangover.”

         Rick nodded and continued preparing the home for his stay. Then, as delicately as he could, he lifted Mollie from the floor and took her to the bathroom, where he washed her face and hair. She groaned and batted at him when he got water down her neck, but other than that, was pretty much pliant throughout.

         It would be so easy, Rick thought, glancing at her neck.

         He was sitting on the lid of the toilet, Mollie slumped against him, snoring. She’d never have the chance to resist.

         Rick lifted her into his arms and took her into her bedroom. He tucked her in, then found an aluminum bowl from the kitchen and set it on the floor beside the bed.

         He went to sleep on her couch, feeling oddly satisfied with himself.

         I had fun tonight, Rick realized.

         Maybe that’s what he’d been missing. All this time, he’d hidden in the shadows and loathed himself, loathed the terrified eyes of his victims as he held them down and drank their life-force. Only when he was ready to die, when he was too depressed to care, had he actually tried making friends with one.

         And how well it had turned out!

         The sound of retching in the bedroom made Rick grin. Tomorrow, we will see a movie, instead.

         It was almost noon, the amount of sunlight puncturing his defenses on the living room windows making Rick nervous, when Mollie stumbled out of her room.

         She cast him a dirty look. “What are you doing here?”

         “Sleeping on your couch.”

         She closed her gorgeous blue eyes and pressed a palm to her face. “What time is it?”

         “Past twelve.”

         She peered over her fingers at him. “Did we…do…anything last night?”

         Rick raised a brow. “You don’t remember?”

         “Remember what?” she said, grumpy.

         “I think you orgasmed six, eight times last night.”

         Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. “We didn’t…”

         Innocently, Rick said, “You had me so distracted I only got to have one.”

         She slumped against the wall, looking defeated and disgusted. “Tell me we used a condom.”

         “Excuse me?”

         “A condom!” she snapped. “Did you use a fucking condom?!”

         Rick laughed. “I was talking about the drinks.”

         Her mouth formed a little O and then she groaned. “Sorry.” She rubbed her head again. “I’m just…” She frowned at him. “Why are you still here, again?”

         “Helped you to bed, thought you wouldn’t mind if I slept on your couch.”

         “Huh. Well, yeah, sure. But you can leave now. My head’s pounding and I feel like shit.”

         Rick cast a nervous glance at the sunlight assaulting the window. “I’d rather stay here.”

         She frowned at him. Her eyes followed his gaze to the windows, then back. “Fine,” she said, shrugging. “Just know I won’t be much company today. Lock the door behind you whenever you go.”

         “Actually, I was hoping for a movie tonight.”

         “Look. Rick. I just had to explain to my boss why I’m not coming in to work today. He threatened to fire me. I told him to go to hell. I’m not in a good mood.”

         “A movie would make you feel better,” Rick said. He gestured at the newspaper on the armrest. “I checked the times. There’s a nice chick flick playing at seven.”

         She stared at him like he’d grown horns and a goatee.

         “What?”

         “Chick flick?”

         “Yeah. What, you want a horror?”

         “Don’t you?”

         “Not necessarily. I find them kind of boring.”

         She took in a deep breath and let it out loudly in an, “Oh.” She laughed. “I get it now.”

         “What?” Rick asked. The look she was giving him was making him a little anxious.

         “You’re gay.”

         His mouth fell open.

         “The ripped body, the taste in movies, the fact you didn’t screw me senseless… It all adds up now.”

         “What about the pickup?” Rick asked, his hackles raising.

         “I’m sure gay men can drive pickups. Really, you should’ve told me. I thought you were hot.”

         “I’m not gay,” Rick said.

         She deflated a little. “Really?”

         “Really.”

         Slowly, a little grin spread across her face. Sheepishly, she said, “Yeah, I like horror. What about that vampire one that came out this Friday?”

         Rick winced. “I don’t like those movies.”

         “Well, I do. It’s got my favorite actor in it.”

         “Keanu Reeves? He’d never play a good vampire.”

         “How the hell do you know?”

         “I know because—” He cut himself off.

         She raised a brow. “Because?”

         “Because Keanu Reeves is a little pansy-waist brat.”

         “Oh-ho! Sorry to tell you this, but he’s a hell of a lot hunkier than you. I didn’t notice it back in the bar, but you look kind of sickly in the light.”

         Glaring at her, Rick forced himself to relax into the sofa and pick up the newspaper. “There’s one playing at eight.”

         “Okay. Sounds good.” She glanced again at the windows. “You know, you really didn’t have to go through all that trouble.” She motioned at the blankets he’d pinned up. “I deserve what I get.”

         “It was no problem,” Rick said.

         “Well, thanks. I’m gonna go shower. Why don’t you make yourself some lunch or something? I’ve got Pepsi and leftover spaghetti in the fridge.”

         With that, she disappeared down the hall, into the bathroom.

         Rick made himself a sandwich, but only to keep from looking conspicuous. It wasn’t food he craved.

         That evening, at the movie, Mollie took his hand and squeezed during the scary parts.

         “That’s not real blood,” Rick said, trying to calm her. “Look at the way it just oozes out. A wound like that, it would be spurting everywhere.”

         Mollie gave him an irritated look. “That’s not making me feel better.”

         “Sorry.” Rick remained silent throughout, even as the ridiculously costumed Keanu launched into a florid love scene with a beautiful princess on a balcony…while the sun was coming up.

         “I’m sorry,” Rick said as they were walking out, “But there’s no way he’d do that. He had to know it was gonna kill him.”

         “Maybe he loved her. You consider that?”

         “Oh yeah? Why didn’t he just step inside? Get out of the sun?”

         “Because he had to prove it.”

         Rick rolled his eyes. “Please.”

         “Their love was not to be, anyway. I mean, who the hell could love a vampire?”

         Rick winced.

         “You know, you’ve got big teeth.”

         “Huh?”

         “Your teeth. I’ve seen them a couple times now. Like friggin’ Dracula.”

         “I think that’s the movie talking.”

         “No. I’m serious.” She stopped a strange woman in the theater lobby and pointed at Rick’s face. “Doesn’t he have Dracula teeth?”

         Rick froze like a little boy caught stealing from a cookie dish.

         “Show him your chompers, Rick.”

         Reluctantly, he did.

         The woman Mollie had stopped gave him a horrified look and hurried away.

         “You scared her,” Mollie said.

         “But not you?” He was slightly mystified by that.

         “Nah. I have a brother whose teeth are better than yours.”

         Rick narrowed his eyes. “Really.”

         “Yep. Sharp, too.”

         “Mine are sharp.”

         “Yours are big, but they’re not sharp. Now David, his are sharp.”

         His feathers ruffled, Rick said very little the rest of the way to Mollie’s apartment.

         “I liked the movie,” Mollie said. “Even though you kept ruining it by sighing.”

         Rick glanced at her. “Really?”

         She grinned back. “Yep. Wanna do lunch tomorrow?”

         “How about dinner?”

         “Aw, come on. I wanna see you in the daylight. I was just kidding about you looking sickly. You’re downright sexy. Could use a tan, but I’m surprised you don’t have girls falling all over you.”

         “Guess the Dracula chompers scared them off.”

         “Good thing, too.” She glanced at him. “You wanna come back to my place?”

         He grinned. “Yes.”

         “Good. You can make me dinner. I’ll watch.”

         “What kind of dinner?”

         “Chicken, pork, beef…whatever I’ve got in the freezer. You’ll find just about anything in the freezer. When the apocalypse comes, I’m one of those people who’ll survive for a year on my own food stores.”

         “Sounds good,” Rick said.

         He made her stuffed chicken breasts in the style of his hometown. After thawing the chicken and preparing it, it was well past one in the morning when they finally sat down to eat, but Mollie didn’t seem to mind.

         They ate by candlelight, talking and chatting about politics, religion, sex, and every other taboo subject they could think of. They laughed, chatted, and giggled like schoolchildren.

         Days went by. Every one of them, Rick met with Mollie. Every one of them, he kept finding reasons not to go back to the bar and finish what he’d started.

         Toward the end of the second week, however, he noticed she stared a little too hard at his teeth, looked a little more suspicious when he wouldn’t meet her before nightfall.

         Two weeks after they met, Rick made Mollie another dinner at her house. Afterwards, they settled onto the couch, Mollie snuggled against his chest. Rick lay awake staring at the ceiling until he heard her deep, rhythmic sleep. Only then could he bring himself to look at her.

         In sleep, she was even more beautiful. Even more innocent.

         He almost couldn’t do it.

         But, knowing what awaited him if he didn’t, Rick gently brushed the curly auburn strands from her neck. He knew he could no longer put it off. Soon her subconscious would piece together the little bits she’d already noticed, and very soon her crystal blue eyes would mimic those of the woman in the theater lobby.

         She would fear him.

         As Mollie slept, Rick carefully levered himself so he could kiss the juncture of her jaw and throat, right under her ear.

         Mollie stirred, then went back to sleep.

         Forgive me, Rick whispered, But I’m so lonely.

         At midnight, as gently as he could, he made Mollie a vampire.

         She woke twenty-four hours later, pressing a palm to her face. “Man,” she said, groaning.

         “What?” Rick asked, watching her.

         Mollie glanced up at him. She wore no contacts, so her eyes dilated in the darkness like a cat’s. It was the most beautiful thing Rick had ever seen. Further, had not yet learned how to conceal her teeth behind her lips, so they both caught the light, glistening in ivory elegance.

         “What?” Rick asked again, anxious she was remembering his kiss.

         She glanced at the clock. “Is it really only twelve? Let’s go back to sleep. I’m dead tired.”

         No you’re not, Rick thought, curling beside her, cradling her body with his. And I’ll make sure you never are.


-Sara King
http://www.kingfiction.com