Blood Suckers

Chapter 1

“I’m not going to do it.” Jimmy shouted over to Ryan.

“You a whimp Finster?”

“Come on you guys he’s not cool enough anyways. He’ll never make it with us. He’s too much of a baby.” Chris proclaimed as he started to lead the group away from the well.

Something began to burn up inside of Jimmy. This anger was unknown to him, yet he knew the cause, he knew it well. “Jimmy can’t do a thing for himself. He’s not able.” They would say, mocking his special treatment. He was always treated like a baby. But he was damn well capable as anyone else to do things for himself. Sure he had a mental disability, but it wasn’t to the extreme and it sure as hell never kept him back before.

“Wait, wait, you guys. I…I’ll do it.”

“Well lookey here. It seems as if we’ve got ourselves a new player.”

They were talking about what was referred to as the Blood Suckers Initiation, most often referred to as BS and used through the phrase, bullshit. It was a group just like any other. It had rules and it was all about group participation. However, the consequences of participation were of much greater proportion than any other game could take credit for. The rules seemed to drag on deep into the victim’s veins, instructing its host to proceed as requested. It is talked about all around school, through whispers and chants, its legend roars for us who are kept hostage in Wilmer High. You are known as a God if you are in this group. The only catch is that you have to hand over your soul. Once this is done you are subjected to perform some of the most terrifying tasks. It takes someone with real guts to pass these constant tests of terror.

He really didn’t want to go through with this, but he just wanted to be one of them so bad. He’d been bullied around enough throughout his elementary years, now it was his moment to strike back, to show everyone that it wasn’t safe to mess with him. This seemed like the only place to turn too.

“Well what are you waiting for weasel? Get your ass down there.”

Being anchored down so slowly was no fun. It didn’t help one bit that everyone in the group was smirking down at him. Their look’s put together was of pure evil. Oh how afraid everyone would be to bully him when these guys were by his side. Just one look would send them running off to class.

A cold chill pierced his lower spine, reminding him of all the gruesome folktales told about the Wishington’s well. Yep it was told that each time you felt an unusual cold chill it was one of Wishington’s spirits passing through you. Of course that was silly.

It only got colder as he descended further into the lion’s layer, just looking up at them made his stomach do a few too many flips. Nausea was making its self-known. It took over his body. He pushed the feeling aside, clasping his hand over his mouth.

He couldn’t decide on what made him feel worse: the way that they all began to laugh when they saw him cringe or the smell that smothered his lungs with the stench of dead frogs, all that he knew was that this stink was the nastiest stink he ever did smell.

The water had maybe once been pure, but now it resembled that of a sewer, dingy, dirty, and quite simply disgusting. The brick enclosed in on him, narrowing its gap, with little leverage, just enough to make him believe he could stand on it and make his way up if he wished. This however was one of those mind tricks, caused by his own fears. If they left him down here he would need to summon the courage to break past his doubt and surpass the unthinkable. Being the small guy that he’d always been, he knew that his outstretched arms with little muscle and his puny misaligned legs would not help him ascend very far. Even if he stretched out to his tiptop toes and tiny weenie fingers he would not stand nearly half the chance of surfacing. Jimmy had heard stories around town of a man who had once climbed up a well in such a way. He wasn’t sure if he was to believe it, but he was forced to as the bucket ended its decent and touched the water making many circles transcend out with one touch. These ringlets were detected only by the circle of light that illuminated from the small panel from up above. The sun was taking its toll on him, causing little beads of sweat to perspire across his forehead, through to his armpits, and down to his toes. He noticed that it wasn’t the sweat that was loading up in his sneakers; it was the well water that had somehow fooled him into thinking it was only a dark space. The water let its frosty touch be known.

Worry struck hard when Jimmy started to think up all the pitfalls that this plan had in store. He didn’t trust these guys, not one bit. What if they leave me out here to die? Either that or I’d be cast up and down until I feel off to my fate. It would sure as hell be a fast death, unless by some miracle I learned to swim or float. Heaven knows I’m too much of a load of anxiety to float, especially with shit trying to jam its way up my nostrils. No sir, I wouldn’t last. God wouldn’t grant it, I swear, I’ve been dumped on a time too many, this ain’t nothing new.

I lifted my feet and held them there, feeling the burning sensation creep up to my calves.

Jimmy held on tighter to the rope, causing little splinters to pinch his skin.

“Hey Jimmy while your down there why don’t you grab us a souvenir.” Ryan yelled down, his voice echoing off of the moss-infested stones.

This was a command and it was to be obeyed, or else…

He squinted his eyes, hoping that the big blob below would become transparent, but it didn’t.

“I… I c…c…can’t s…c…ee.”

“Chris man shine the light down there.” Ryan said.

He fiddled with the switch. No light. He hit the plastic against the well. His face grew tight in aggravation. Like a mad man he managed to bring the light to life. Jimmy had to shun his eyes for a moment. When he opened his eyes he was surprised at what he saw. The darkness harbored a treasure of offerings. Was it a sin to steal from the dead? It couldn’t hurt to take something tainted with superstition after all it was only superstitious to think otherwise.

“You boys, get off of my property. I don’t need to warn you again. I’ll shot you. I will.” A man bellowed out, shotgun in hand. His scraggily hair poking out from his, “Luck of the Irish” hat.

Chris lost grasp with the flashlight, sending it to Jimmy’s on looking face, painted with pure terror. His body went limp.

Chris started running first. The others followed helplessly. They skipped across the battered stumps that marked there path and jumped the damaged wire fence, where the, “no trespassing, area under construction.” Sign hung. A shot went off.

For a second he believed the white illumination was that of the heavens welcoming him home. The next second he knew that this was not the case, his glasses had been knocked off and his eyes were now being invaded by the water murk.

His senses burst into action, full throttle, suddenly every pain was begging for his attention. First came the pain in his chest. He needed that breath that would release his lungs from the limits of their ribbed cage. Breath damn’t, he cursed upon himself. The water caved in, deeper, daring to consume his organs and turn him to mush.

Jimmy gasped for air, heaving in despite the pain that swamped his lungs. He emptied all that felt nasty on his insides, spitting it into the bucket. His eyelids fluttered spastically forcing the bacteria to flush out along with the tears that formed.

The light floated on by, within reach. Something was loosely wrapped around its handle. As it came closer he realized how shiny the mysterious object was. He anchored it in, without taking a second look at it he placed it in his pocket, which appeared to be filled with a mushy substance. He didn’t care to know what that mush was, instead he pulled the rope from up above, seeing if it had any support to it. As he guessed it was very loose, it dangled from side to side in a mocking fashion.

Jimmy panicked for a moment, as the horrible plays of imagination reeled in. The fact of the matter withstood. He needed a plan desperately.

There was this instinctive need to feel that stable ground, where he could take his life into his hands. He became desperate for a plan A and after that he would need to try a plan B and if that didn’t work then he would resort to a plan C. Now he had to weigh his options and weigh them well because as the night went on he would soon loose consciousness and in turn loose his life. Then he would be the legend.

Those jerks left him out to die, but he knew it was all in the contract somewhere, the unwritten one, under endurance.

“H-h–help.” Jimmy shouted out, hoping a soul, even that of the hunter would hear him.

No longer than a minute after his cries he heard a response. He felt the pouring rush of relief creep up his body, seeping through his cracks of desperation.

“Where are you?”

“Down here.” He proclaimed, as he repeated this phrase his tone turned to one of a pleading beggar. Soon the voice would come to form and he would see his savors gaze as that of a great heroic figure. The hope he had long lost now dangled above him.

He was afraid that he had lost his feeling in his body over the last hour or so. Whatever time it really was he knew that it was always an hour or so too long.

A figure as bright as light its self appeared above his scraggly body. Jimmy smothered his strength in bit by bit as this mystery woman gathered all her strength to carry him back to a place he felt even less safe. However it always felt good to stand on his own two feet.

He flung his shoulders up, hoping they would be his leverage so that he could anchor the rest of his burdening body over without the ad of this insanely cute women, only she wasn’t a women, she was young. She watched him fight for every bigger breath. This girl seemed to hold her own weight very well, with such a slender physic; it was hard not to find her superbly attractive.

She held down her lengthy arm. He thought that she wanted to help him up. It was more of a handshake then a helping hand, which caught him off guard, almost sending him to the ground. He regained his balance and acted as though he was all composed. She laughed at his clumsiness. He didn’t blame her for not wanting to hold his nasty hand for long, heck he wouldn’t have even shaken his hand if he was her.

“I’m Kristi. I guess I can call you Jimmy. As in Jimmy fell down the well.” She laughed out of awkwardness. Over many years of being a lady in training she had never found such a cute boy in such a big mess. She instantly regretted taking his hand.

He smelled more than most boys did, granted he had just soaked in sewer water.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” She said more demanding now, no longer feeling so giddy about her encounter.

The way her eyes narrowed in on him made him feel like he must obey her every command.

“Actually yeah my name is Jimmy. You can call me Jim though.”

As he was talking to her, he was noticing her silky milky skin that seemed to transcend against the background stars. He wished he wasn’t attracted to her; maybe it was only the feeling of complete relief that was making him feel so good.

He started to worry and began to fiddle with his thumbs, anticipating her to run off, to be completely repulsed by his very existence.

Kristi he liked that name. If it weren’t so great then he wouldn’t be tripping on his own words so often, making him sound like a stuttering fool. In that moment he resented her beauty.

“I’ve got to go.” They managed to say at the same time.

“Yeah, I got to cle-clean off all this cra, crap.”

Kristi seemed to resent this choosing of words, it showed in the way she scowled at him for an instant only to come back to her blank stare. He was losing her.

“We better get out of here anyways. Old man Brown might catch us. He is nothing but bitter these days.”

Something about the way she told him this made him feel like she had so much more to say.

She egged him on. Each phrase carried them to another tree branch, closer to the end of the seemingly never-ending woods. “Come on, it’s this way.” She said pointing her finger out in conviction. He had to smile at the way she knew one tree from another. The way the twines pulled at her cloth but did not hold her back was a wonder of its own. Occasionally she’d check behind her bare shoulder to make sure that the peasant boy was still intact. He’d fumble, then arise, tripping repeatedly over the tree trunks that had been hacked away and left to lay limb under the underbrush.

“Come on keep up the pace, will you?”

Jimmy scowled at the way the woods intruding in on his perception of Kristi. He had lost her once all ready, she had been running too fast for his tortured lungs. He sensed that she liked this, her shifty eyes said it all, she liked to look like a graceful dear that knew her way around better than the rest.

“Come on, we have to hurry.” She yelled back to him, more as an encouragement than a demand.

She had lost her sandals far back, but she didn’t seem to care. Heck this odd girl didn’t seem to even notice the pain that he was sure the prickling pins were placing on her.

They got out of the forest and across the stream that marked the line between the city and the country. Here things began to build up, soon enough they were walking by sky scrappers. The Lego landscape was enough to delude them into this different world.

Night had fallen and the lamps had been lit. Walking Clay Boulevard was a treacherous task; with the silence enveloping there was no room to think. Jimmy pulled up his cargos and trudged alongside Kristi. It had to be the way that her ash brown hair hung across her eyes, shielding her gaze that made him feel so intrigued. She eyed him down, sensing his impeccable curiosity.

“Why do you stare at me?” she asked feeling as though he was the one to be ashamed.

“I thought you wa-wa-were staring at m-me.” He said, now feeling cast down by the way she looked quizzically at him.

He knew what was to come.

“Why do you do that?”

He didn’t have to ask what, he knew what she was talking about. He was too pursue the same tedious response. His tongue had grown tired of sputtering this explanation, it was after all the only explanation he had, if you could even call it that.

“I sta-sta-stutter.”

He didn’t feel that there was much to say to her on this topic, not now; it was too relevant, too small.

“I know that, but why?”

He had never been asked such a question and he didn’t know how to respond. What was he to say? He had always figured that it was just natural for a boy like him.

She saw how confused he looked and maybe even a little bit hurt, so she instantly retreated her claws and looked down at her feet they were dirty and scratched up so unacceptable for a girl of her kind, what would her mother say?

“How am I supposed to know a thing like that?” He asked, slightly agitated. He had, had a long night and was looking for some rest. He began to walk faster. Kristi kept pace

Jimmy went the only way he knew to his house that trailed on by where he would be going this year, Wilmer High School. He didn’t know how he could miss such a white face among the cast of all the many dark phony faces that everyone wore.

“Do you go to Wilmer High?”

She laughed a giddy laugh, throwing her head back in the process so that her hair fluttered in the air, landing perfect placement. “I’m not in high school.”

“What?”

“My parents have a tutor teach me all I need to know. I bet I know more than you do, like for instance that going on Mr. Browns land is wrong.”

Jimmy was staring, thinking that she probably came from a rich background. From the looks of it Kristi was one of those kinds, unlike him he wore anything his mother could find at the thrift store, he didn’t resent this, rather it interested him. He wanted to know more about her.

By the looks of it, they were nearing the school. The perimeter was deserted, leaving the flag to hang low. The wind picked up and the windshield began to drop at a noticeable rate.

“Where is your home?”

She began to pace at a much slower rate as if hoping to slip away, throw an alley of something without him seeing. He slowed his pace to match hers, so that he could pry into her eyes for some kind of answer. These blue sapphire gems had to hold the key to her secrets, he knew this by how they sparkled, stealing his attention away from the centerpiece of darkness that swirled like dark chocolate in the center. They always did say that the center was the sweetest.

“Home, home is wherever I go. I don’t really feel like I have an actual home.”

“Ba…ba…but you do, right?”

“Yeah. I guess so, it’s just that a girl like me can’t be proud enough to call a place her home.”

“So…”

“So it doesn’t matter. I better get a going. It isn’t good to stay out too long.”

Just like that she was gone, running her way out of sight.

He was sure he would see her again, a girl like that is hard to pass off as just another one in the crowd.

Speaking of crowds a new crowd was gaining in around him.

They were leeching out their tentacles, pulling him in. He couldn’t imagine what they had been doing at school in the middle of night. Whatever it was he was sure it was no good, it would be better to avoid them rather than to get into more trouble.

I’ve got to avoid them, he told himself.

Too late, they had already spotted him.

“Jimmy,” Once they spoke his name, he was drawn in again.

Pure amazement pasted upon their faces.

“Jimbo, come here.” Ryan said, gesturing for the others to follow suite.

He was the front guy, the guy who always tried to act all composed, despite his obvious freak out earlier he’d been doing a good job at it. His face was taken over with the act that he knew he must portray; he was now a thug carrying out the burdening task of recruitment.

“Lookey here boys. It looks like Jimbo ain’t so weak.”

“Tell me, how did you escape?” Chris asked with genuine curiosity seeking into his tone.

“ Well l-lets start with why you left me down there to die.”

“Hold up” Ryan stepped up, siding with Jimmy.

Saving face was in need and Ryan was just the guy to come to the rescue. He draped his arm, like dead weight around Jimmy’s shoulders.

“We didn’t leave you down there. It was all part of the test and guess what, you passed.”

“So your ta-ta-telling me that you were g-g-going to come back after a few hours?”

“Man don’t look so surprised. This is tough shit. You either take it or you get out.”

“Ok.” This was all that he could seem to say. He got all choked up. This usually happened when he was confused. It didn’t help that they were all giving him mixed signals. Ryan looked very relieved that he wouldn’t have to testify in court on Jimmy’ where abouts anytime soon.



That night Jimmy couldn’t have been more relieved to rinse off so that he could enjoy the luxury of letting himself slip into the night’s coma. This peace would only last until the dawn decided to break; it was a cruel awakening that always his managed to break his peace.

The wind whistled through his slightly cracked window, it was wooing its way to his ears, louder than ever before. The noise only got louder and louder, to the point that he knew the sound was no longer that of the wind. The atmosphere got cool. Impossible, he thought, mom always keeps the thermostat at eighty. Fear took over him, wrapping him up in his sheets. Curiosity rolled in full steam head on- it was about to break through his wall of reason.

He pulled his quilt down. His gaze drawn to the front lawn.

This is what they talked about. He felt the chill. It had once only been an illusion used to scare children around the campfire. Things felt different now. The stories became real, like a scene of a movie it was all playing out in front of him in 3D.