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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Satire · #2306315
A satirical tale involving a classic horror villain.
Second Place in WDC What a Character October 2023

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Blood Sucker

By Damon Nomad



          Gavin Quinn stood at the window of his office on the thirtieth floor as the rosy light of the sunset painted the surface of the Pacific Ocean. He smiled with satisfaction as he gazed at his reflection. Not a crease or wrinkle at forty-five, thick wavy brown hair, and bright blue eyes that he was sure drove most women wild. He spun around as the door came open with a quiet knock.

          "I said I needed some quiet time before heading home." He waved at the buxom young receptionist.

          The young woman stayed quiet with a frightened expression. A tall thin man crept into the room. "I insisted Mr. Quinn. I'm R.M. Renfield and I have an urgent matter." He spoke formally with a peculiar accent. He sat in one of the leather wing-back chairs in front of Gavin's desk.

          Renfield wore small round spectacles that emphasized his intense gray eyes that were surrounded by dark circles as if he had not slept for days. His gray-black hair was combed back and parted on the side in an old-fashioned style. An expensive suit but a couture from long ago. Gavin waved for his receptionist to leave. "It's okay, go on home."

          He turned his attention to Renfield. "What's the urgent business?"

          "My client, Ambrose Bax, is in need of a criminal defense attorney. I represent him in other matters. You come highly recommended, as someone who will do anything within the law for a zealous defense. We will pay you handsomely."

          Gavin stroked his chin. "What's the charge?"

          "Assault on a young woman."

          "I need a lot more than that Renfield."

          Renfield stood up. "He's just been taken into custody. As I said, this is urgent. We will pay five times your hourly rate. Here is a cash retainer, fifty thousand dollars." He laid an envelope on the desk.

          Gavin grabbed the envelope full of money and put it in the safe; then put on his suit jacket. He patted Renfield on the shoulder. "Okay, let's go."

          ***

          Gavin shouted out as he pushed his way into the conference room at the police station. "Stop the interrogation. He's represented by counsel." He focused his attention on the police and the assistant district attorney as Renfield trailed behind him.

          Lovisa Lipsey squealed as she stood up. "Interrogation? We just finished reading him his rights. Don't barge in here barking orders, you arrogant shyster."

          Gavin glared at Lipsey. An attractive face with a porcelain complexion, piercing green eyes, and dark hair pulled into a tight bun on the back of her head. The petite lady was a tenacious prosecutor and one of the women who seemed impervious to his advances. He didn't like her; because she was good at her job but mostly because she saw right through him. There was also her squeaky voice; like fingernails on a chalkboard. "Lu Lu, you seem particularly uptight tonight."

          He leered with a hiss, "You really need a man in your life." He waved toward the door. "Get out and take your minions with you."

          "Don't call me Lu Lu." She turned at the door. "Perfect client for you Quinn; you bloodsucker. We will bring more charges tomorrow; a dozen more of these disgusting assaults."

          She saw Gavin's confused look. "You didn't know? He's the one who has been biting women and sucking their blood. Patrol officer caught him in the act." She slammed the door as she left with the two police detectives.

          Gavin sat down across the table from the older man and Renfield who had taken a seat next to the client. He studied his client for a few moments. His jet black hair was greased back like a prohibition-era gangster, ghastly white face like a corpse, and bluish lips. Same Victorian era styled clothes as Renfield. "This is California." He waved a hand at them. "You two need to catch some more rays." He quietly chuckled.

          He shrugged as they sat stone-faced. "Sorry, trying to lighten the mood a bit. Should I call you Mr. Bax or would you prefer Ambrose?"

          The older man glanced at Renfield. "I dislike that name; I prefer not to use it anymore." He spoke in a slow, deep baritone voice, with a strong accent. Every word had more syllables than was necessary.

          "Master, it's your legal name in this country. Better to use it."

          The man waved for Renfield to be quiet and he turned his gaze on Gavin. "I am the Count of Dracul; you will call me Dra - cu - la." His intense hazel eyes bore into Gavin.

          This dude is weird, even for LA. "Give me a little background; I'm picking up an accent. Eastern Europe?"

          Renfield answered, "Romania, the Transylvanian mountain region. We immigrated to California, about six months ago. New opportunities and . . ."

          Dracula interrupted, "Enough! Tell him the truth of why we came here. I'm tired of this charade."

          "Master, we need to be careful."

          Dracula growled, "Just tell him."

          Renfield sighed, "There are five villages at the foot of the mountain, where the castle sits in Transylvania."

          Gavin snorted a laugh as he looked up from his notepad. "Castle?" He saw Renfield's sober expression. "Sorry, keep going."

          "The villagers were planning to attack the castle." His eyes narrowed. "They were planning to kill the Count. We came to California and changed his name legally . . . to start over." He went quiet.

          "Why did they want to kill him?"

          Renfield stared at the floor. Gavin looked to Dracula. "Why were they coming after you?"

          For the first time, Dracula had some expression on his face. Maybe regret, frustration, or sadness. Gavin couldn't quite tell. "Why?"

          "Because of my appetite for human blood." He leaned back in his seat. "Listen carefully to what I tell you."

          Dracula finished explaining, "It is my nature. What I am. I've grown weary of being harassed and threatened because of what I must do to exist. That's why we came to America, especially California. Renfield said the law here could protect me."

          Gavin had stopped writing minutes earlier. He stared at Dracula for a moment, the guy was odd but he didn't seem to be crazy. He glanced at Renfield, but Renfield just nodded his endorsement. Gavin tapped his fingers slowly on the tabletop for a few moments. His lips curled into a grin. "That was good. Really good. Do it just like that in court."

          Gavin looked at Renfield. "Good strategy, insanity defense. I have a couple of psychiatrists we can use."

          Renfield shook his head. "Everything he told you is true; he's not insane."

          Gavin frowned. "An immortal creature that drinks human blood to survive. You're both whack jobs if this isn't a litigation strategy."

          Renfield pointed to the wall behind Gavin. "Look at the mirror behind you."

          Gavin glanced back. "Yeah, so?"

          "Look again; where is the Count?"

          Gavin turned around slowly; there were reflections of Renfield and himself but not Dracula. He turned back to face the two of them. "I can only defend people." He paused for a moment. "Not . . .well . . . other species."

          Renfield answered, "His DNA is human with some minor aberrations. Doctors will say there are chromosomal abnormalities that account for his physical need for human blood as nutrition."

          Gavin was quiet as he thought.

          Renfield leaned forward. "He is your client; you will lose your license to practice law if you disclose his secret. It was revealed under the attorney-client privilege." He cocked his head, "I was told that you will defend anyone, surely you can come up with a defense."

          After a few moments, Gavin's face lit up with a spark of an idea. "Yeah, okay. I have a defense in mind. We have some work to do."

          ***

          Weeks later, Gavin stood up in court to deliver his opening statement. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Take a look at my client Ambrose Bax, sitting here. He looks a little different than you or me, doesn't he? Pale, almost lifeless with a hollow look in his eyes." He waved a finger at them. "This is America. The great state of California. We don't convict people because they are different. Would you want to be put in prison because of some unique trait?"

          He moved a few steps so that the jurors focused their attention on him. "We are not going to dispute the essential facts of these charges. Ambrose bit those women on the neck and he drank their blood. He had no choice. No more choice than you or me when we drink water to survive."

          He continued, "The judge will instruct you later on the affirmative defense of necessity. We will provide evidence to prove all of the elements of that defense. Let me boil it down for you. Necessity means a normally illegal act is forgiven, similar to self-defense. Necessity requires that the crime was necessary to avoid greater harm. Either to himself or someone else. Ambrose assaulted those thirteen women, but with minimal duress and none of them died from their injuries. We will prove that Ambrose's body requires human blood to survive; fresh from a human. Ambrose would have died without their blood."

          Gavin gestured to Dracula again as he wrapped up, "You may think Ambrose is an evil monster. You need to listen carefully to all the evidence. When you understand Ambrose Bax, you will realize he is not evil and that he is not guilty."

          ***

          A few months later, Gavin admired the view from a massive multi-level stone veranda at a Malibu mansion. A full moon was reflecting off the surface of the ocean. The music of a live band and colorful lights made for a festive atmosphere. There were hundreds of LA celebrities, VIPs and other guests milling about and chattering.

          He turned his attention back to the party. He saw Dracula coming his way. "Quite a party, Count. You're getting into the swing of things."

          Dracula came closer, dressed in elegant new clothes and carrying a martini glass. He raised his glass. "Thank you for coming, counselor." He nodded at the crowd. "The publicity after the trial was surprising. I was confident you would get me off, but I never imagined I would become a celebrity."

          Gavin took a sip of his gin and tonic. "You gotta love LA." He gestured to Renfield nearby, an attractive young woman on each arm. "You say he's not the same as you. But he's more than two hundred years old."

          Dracula nodded. "He gets his life force by eating small creatures. Rats, snakes, and bugs. Lots of bugs. Gobbles them down while they are still alive."

          Gavin cringed, "He probably shouldn't share that bit of his lifestyle with the ladies." He spotted the attractive new female public defender and she seemed to be alone. He quickly finished his drink. "I'm gonna mingle some. If you have any friends with a similar predicament. Send them my way."

          "Of course, thanks again for representing me."

         He sipped his Martini as he scanned the gathering. An attractive woman made eye contact as she moved in his direction. She moved in close; "You're Ambrose Bax, right?"


          "Yes, but my friends call me Dracula."

          She pressed up against him. "Would you like a taste?"

          He gently squeezed her hand. Gotta love LA.



 

 



          Word Count 1895
          Prompt: A classic horror villain that is really just misunderstood.

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