The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

I can’t see. I can’t move. What’s going on? Gil tried to force his eyes open, but the lids refused to budge and his heart pounded in his chest. Like his eyelids, his arms and legs were unable to move, but his ears still worked. What’s that sound? Footsteps? Yes, a slight clicking, like high heels on concrete. It sounded like the secretaries as they walked to their cars in the underground garage every night.





“Are you awake?”





Gil startled at the sound of a female voice. “Yes, who are you and where am I?”





“All in time, Gilbert. I hope you’re not too uncomfortable. I tried to make you as comfortable as possible.”





“I can’t move. Am I paralyzed? Was I in an accident?”





“No, no, nothing like that. You look very handsome today. I’ve always liked that shirt, it makes you look like a movie star. You look good in cranberry red.”





Gil tried again to open his eyes, but the more he strained, the more they hurt, almost like his eyelids were tearing away from his skin. Who is this woman? “Look, can you please tell me where I am? Are you a nurse?”





“I’m disappointed that you don’t recognize my voice. We’ve known each other for almost five years. Five years, Gilbert.”





Five years? What the hell is she talking about? I don’t recognize her voice. He tried to put a face to the voice, but nothing popped into his head. She’s crazy. She must be crazy. “Why won’t you tell me where I am and what’s going on? Why can’t I open my eyes?”





“Let’s play a little game, shall we? I’ll give you a riddle and if you solve it, I’ll answer one question.”





Gil focused on his right arm, his stronger arm, and flexed his muscles. As they contracted, he felt something around his wrist and forearm restraining him. Jesus, I’m tied down! “What the goddamned hell’s going on here?”





“Gilbert, you shouldn’t use profanity. It’s not like you to swear. I’ve ever only heard you swear once before and that was when you’d had too many beers at your barbeque last summer.”





“Barbeque? Which barbeque?”





“Oh, come on, you remember. You invited the entire office to celebrate your new job.”





Gil knew exactly which barbeque she was talking about now. He’d been promoted to partner in his law firm and wanted to celebrate in a big way. He’d recently broken up with his girlfriend and didn’t feel like sitting home alone, so he invited everyone at the law firm. Which one is she? “So you were at my barbeque?”





“How do you spell lawyer without a ‘w’?”





“What? What are you talking about?”





“It’s a riddle. Get it right and you’ll get an answer.”





Oh, my God, is she some chick I dumped? Was she a one-night stand? Was I that drunk? Geez, I really have to stop screwing around so much. Gil thought hard about all his friends and co-workers, concocting images of them in his mind, but none of them matched this woman’s flat and unemotional tone. “I don’t know the answer,” he mumbled as he licked his dry lips.





“Attorney. See, it’s easy. You’re not trying, Gilbert. Since you didn’t even try, you get punished.”





He felt something cold on his foot. I’m not wearing any shoes. Where are my shoes? “What are you doing?” He was going to ask again, but was distracted by a brief crackling that sounded a moment before a surge of electricity pulsed through his entire body. When it stopped, he gasped for air and tingled all over. His fingers and toes felt numb.





“That didn’t look like it much fun. I’m sorry I had to hurt you, Gilbert. You really have to try. Now, here’s the second riddle. What kind of underwear do lawyers wear?”





Oh, for God’s sake, I’ve got to get out of here. “I don’t know, boxers?”





“Legal briefs. I thought you were smarter than that. It looks like it’s going to be another punishment. Arm or leg?”





“What? No, wait, why don’t we keep playing? I’ll try harder, I promise.” He knew he had to keep her talking. He had to find out who she was and why she was playing this twisted game.





“Too late. Arm or leg?”





“No, please, don’t shock me again. Why don’t we just talk? What’s your name? You already know my name, but I don’t know who you are. My mind’s a bit fuzzy, so if you tell me your name, I’m sure I’ll remember…”





“Oh, yes, you know me. Arm or leg?”





“This isn’t fair! You’ve got me tied up and you expect me to answer your stupid riddles!” The instant the words flew from his mouth, he knew he’d made a mistake.





He wanted to apologize, but before he could open his mouth again, a stinging pain in his left arm brought tears to his eyes. She’s cutting me! Jesus Christ, she’s cutting me with a knife. “Stop! Please stop!”





“Okay, punishment’s over. I don’t think we’ll do any more riddles. You don’t seem to be very good at them. It’s hard to tell where the shirt ends and the blood begins. I know, let’s play a guessing game.”





Gil felt blood dripping down his arm and wondered how badly he’d been cut. It hurt worse than the time he sliced his finger while cutting up lemons for one of his girlfriend’s ice tea. But this woman wasn’t an old girlfriend, he would have remembered her if she was. She was playing a sick game and he knew he had to outsmart her if he wanted to live.





He listened as she moved around the room with her heels clicking and echoing. There’s an echo. It sounds like a basement. The pain from the cut ebbed as the immediate area around the wound began to numb. Then, as he heard her clicking across the floor, his eyelids separated a bit. They only opened a fraction of an inch, but it was enough for him to see a shadowy figure off to the left, maybe ten feet away.





Her back was turned, so Gil couldn’t see what she was doing. With all the effort he could muster, he moved his wrists and ankles, but he was held tight. Through his slit of vision, he saw the woman coming back. What’s that in her hand? She was holding something dark, but there wasn’t enough light in the room to show it clearly.





“Gilbert, are you ready for the guessing game?”





“Please, just let me go. I haven’t done anything to you. Why are you doing this?”





“Come on, Gilbert, guess what I have in my hand.”





He didn’t want to guess and he was feeling sick to his stomach, which only made the situation worse, as if it really could be worse. The woman clicked her way to the other end of the table again and rubbed something soft over his bare feet. He couldn’t tell what it was, but at least it didn’t hurt.





“Guess, Gilbert. What is it? If you guess wrong, you know what’ll happen.”





Oh, shit, not again. “Um, it’s soft. It feels like rabbit fur. Sort of silky.”





“You don’t think it feels more like a small dog? Maybe a poodle?”





What’s she talking about? What dog? Gil’s breath froze in his throat. She wouldn’t! There’s no way she could have…Gil heard a jangle that sounded like the collar and tags of his present girlfriend’s purebred poodle.





“My name’s Maddie. If found, please call Gilbert Hanson. You should never have agreed to watch Lindsay’s dog.”





“You sick bitch!” Gil struggled, but still couldn’t pull free. His eyes burned as he forced the lids open a bit wider.





“I wouldn’t do that, Gilbert. Oh, your eyes are superglued shut. You don’t want to play, do you? You’ve never wanted to do anything with me, have you? Day after day you torture me.”





“For God’s sake, I don’t even know who you are!”





“I don’t like being ignored, Gilbert. I’m so much better than those women you date.”





“What other women? What the hell are you talking about?”





“Well, there’s Lindsay, of course, and Janey, Laura and Tabitha. Why not me, Gilbert? What do you see in them that you don’t in me? Why not me, Gilbert? I’ve always been ignored. But you seemed so nice. I never would have expected it from you.”





“But I don’t even know who you are. Do you work in my building? Do you live around here? Why don’t you untie me and we can talk?” There was a moment of silence.





“If I let you go, would you leave or would you really stay and talk? I hope you’re not toying with me. I read somewhere that a woman’s emotional state is a fragile thing and can be easily broken.”





“We could talk. I mean really sit down and talk. I told you that. Just untie me, please.” More silence.





“No, I don’t think so, but I will give you a clue. If you can figure it out, you’ll understand.”





Understand what, you lunatic? “All right, I’ll play along. If I’ve hurt you in any way, I’m sorry. If I guess the answer, will you let me go?” Then I’ll see that you rot in jail for the rest of your life.





“It all depends on how well you do. Red carnations.”





Gil searched his mind for anything relating to carnations, but came up empty. He didn’t even have flowers around his house because of his allergies and he never bought flowers for any of his girlfriends. This is insane. I’ve got to get out of here.





“You don’t remember, do you, Gilbert? Maybe I should hurt you some more, just like you hurt me. Physical pain and emotional pain are so much alike, don’t you agree? They both hurt. What do you think, should I remove your fingers, one by one, just like you took me apart with your cruelty, piece by piece?”





“Wait! No! Please, please don’t do that. Please just tell me what I’ve done to you. Why do you hate me so much?”





“I don’t hate you, I love you. We could be happy together, Gilbert.”





Oh, Christ, she really is insane. I’m going to die. She’s going to kill me. Who the hell is she? How did I get here? He worked his mind to think back to the last thing he remembered and found the memory hazy at best. Where was I? What time was it? He could remember driving home and pulling into the driveway. He got out of the car and went to the curb to bring in the trashcan and then…and then…oh, shit! Someone came up behind him and placed something over his nose and mouth.





“You drugged me!”





“You’d be amazed what you can get over the Internet, Gilbert. You’re a lot heavier than I expected, but I remembered that wheel chair in the garage. You remember, from the time when you broke your leg in that ski accident three years ago. It made it much easier.”





“Who are you? How do you know about that?” Gil trembled and tears again dripped from his eyes. The tears must have reduced the strength of the glue, because he was able to separate his eyelids almost fully, but the lashes were still stuck together. “Who the hell are you!”





“I’ve always wanted to be a part of your life, Gilbert. I just wanted to be a part of you. When I gave you those flowers, you should have kept them. They were for you, I spent an entire afternoon searching for the perfect ones. Why didn’t you keep them, Gilbert? Why couldn’t you have just kept them?”





Again with the flowers. He strained and searched into the depths of his brain until he vaguely remembered getting flowers on his birthday last year. They were red carnations.





“Oh, my God, I remember. I didn’t know who gave them to me. You didn’t leave a card. I’m allergic to pollen. Please, I didn’t know.”





“But you didn’t have to give them to your girlfriend. That hurt, Gilbert.”





“I’m sorry. I’m really very sorry. Please let me go.”





“I just wanted to be a part of your life.”





“Please.”





Gil blinked his eyes to clear his vision and saw her clearly as she bent down and gave him a kiss on the lips. She was plain, not the sort of girl who’d stand out in a crowd, but her eyes, her eyes were dark like they held some sort of secret hidden within. Her hair was short and curled inwards toward her chin. The style didn’t suit her, it was the style of a much prettier woman. It occurred to him that she was trying to make herself attractive, but had missed the mark.





“A part of you, Gilbert. That’s what I want.”





No! What’s she doing? What’s that in her hand? He squinted and tried to make out what she was carrying, but she was turned to the side and all he could see was something small enough to be carried in one hand. Come on, Gil, think. She worked in the office. A secretary? A paralegal? Who is she?





She was down near his feet again and pressing something hard and cold against the bottom of his foot. Not another electric shock. Gil prepared himself for the jolt, but it never came. Instead, he saw the woman lift her arm and in the next instant, he felt an excruciating agony as a sharp instrument sliced through his little toe. His screams echoed off the walls and he jerked around, but was still held fast to the table.





The woman approached, carrying a bloodied pair of pruning shears in one hand and his toe in the other. “Stop screaming, Gilbert. You might wake the neighbors.”





The pain was worse than anything he’d ever felt and threatened to make him faint, but he concentrated and forced himself to stay awake. Neighbors? He looked around, sure he was going to throw up from the sight of his blood dripping down the blades of the pruners, and recognized his own basement. She’d draped sheets over all of the walls except one. There was his water heater, distinct because of the smiley face printed neatly in black paint, an odd message left by the previous owners. Did she want him to know where he was? Being in his own basement didn’t give him any hope because several years ago he’d done a damn good job at sound proofing it so he could play rock star with his friends and jam into the night without bothering a soul. In fact, he’d bragged about it at the barbeque.





It was hopeless and he knew it. He felt cold. Was he bleeding to death while she stood by and watched? What sick pleasure did she get from watching him die? Just as his eyes began to droop, she walked over to a small table and lifted off a blanket. From his position, it was hard to see what she was doing.





“Oh, Gilbert, we can forever be together. I have a secret. We’re so close now, I think I can share it with you. I’ve been in therapy ever since you gave away my flowers. My therapist says I need to express myself more and learn how to face my fears and rejections. Well, Gilbert, I’m facing you now. Just you and me.” She walked to him and leaned in close. “I finally figured out how I can resolve my issues over rejection. You can be a part of me.” She held her hand over him, grasping the toe between her fingers, tilted her head back and popped it into her mouth. She swallowed hard to get the object down her throat and Gilbert gagged at the sight.





He could feel the bile rising. “What…why…please…”





“And now, I’ll be a part of you.” She walked back to the small table and wheeled it closer. It was a butcher’s block with a cleaver poking out of the wood. “I was suicidal last year, Gilbert, but I found a way to keep going.”





There was something else on the table, beside the cleaver, but Gil couldn’t quite make it out, his tears made his vision too blurry. He blinked away the tears and saw her glance at him and smile, then she freed the cleaver from the block. She placed her left arm down and in one fast motion, cut through her own flesh and bone. She made a strangled squeal and dropped the cleaver. She picked up her severed hand and stared at Gil. Blood was splattered everywhere. Over her. Over the table. Everywhere. She looked weak, but she kept a smile on her face regardless.





Now Gil recognized what else was on the table. It was a blender. Oh, Jesus, oh, Jesus…





It seemed to happen in slow motion, but it must have only been a matter of seconds. She deposited her hand into the blender and switched it on. The grinding and gurgling made him sick and he vomited.





The woman stopped the blender and fiddled with something before coming back to him, but when he saw what she was holding, he screamed until he couldn’t scream any more.





“Together forever, Gilbert. I’ve dreamed of this moment every day for a year.” Her voice was faint, but her grip was tight on the biggest gauge syringe he’d ever seen. It was filled with blood and tissue and what looked like minute fragments of bone that hadn’t ground up properly. “I’ll be with you forever, Gilbert.” The needle was huge and a drop of red liquid clung to the tip, ready to fall at any time.





She threw her bleeding stump of a wrist over his body and plunged the syringe into his chest. As his heart fluttered, he remembered who she was. He must have walked by her everyday, but never truly noticed her. Each time he retrieved a book from the office law library, she was there, like a fixture. He’d joked to his friends about her, the bookish librarian, and now wished he’d shown a little compassion. Just a word, a simple ‘hello’ once in a while. Yes, just a word, that’s all it would have taken.





The pressure in his chest felt like someone was squeezing his heart in their fist and he knew all the regret in the world wouldn’t save him now. But she’d won. He now knew her and he’d know her for the rest of his life.