Saturday, July 31, 2004
I hurried back to Kristin’s apartment. I don’t feel comfortable leaving Kristin alone with John Maguire on the prowl in Chicago, especially in her weakened state. I arrived home early this morning, Kristin was still in bed. She hasn’t moved since the John Maguire attack. I am not a doctor, and even if I was, I still wouldn’t know how to treat a vampire for a wound caused by an enchanted sword. The cut on my own arm from John’s sword still hasn’t healed. In the back of my mind, I keep thinking John Maguire will appear any second… but he hasn’t. Why? Did I hurt him in the fight?
If anyone has seen John Maguire, or knows any handy dandy tricks on how to treat an ailing vampire, feel free to offer suggestions. I am at a loss, and fear John Maguire’s quest for revenge will be successful.
Sometimes, just to get through the days, I devour any little bit of good news. Today, a four team trade was announced… bringing Nomar Garciaparra to my Chicago Cubs. Just when I was about to give up on the Cubs season, they do this! Now I guess I’ll need to pay attention for a few more weeks. Go Cubbies!
Thursday, July 29, 2004
Today I cried
Every second I wait in Kristin’s apartment, thinking John Maguire will come busting through the door to kill me. Part of me wonders if death would be so bad. I have lived longer than humans are supposed to live. I have lived at least four lifetimes.
When life gets tough, they say take it one day at a time to get through it. For me, these past few days, a day seems like an eternity. I am doing my best to take it hour by hour… but even an hour seems like an awfully long time.
Kristin and I waited until sunset before leaving her apartment to find and kill John Maguire. But I knew I needed to feed first before facing the vampire hunter. Apparently, John knew the same thing. As we were leaving the apartment, John Maguire was waiting by my car in the parking lot.
“Hello ladies,” John said. “Are you ready to die?”
“Where’s Dawn!?” I yelled.
“In a safe location,” John said.
Two men and a woman stepped from behind a parked van. But they weren’t human. I could smell the death ten feet away. Vampires, working with a vampire hunter. It made me sick. One man was a tall blond, the other man was a fat man, and he wore a Ryan Sandberg baseball jersey. I wondered how long he’d been a vampire. The woman was a red head wearing black lipstick, black eyeliner and black fingernail polish. I called them Blondie, Sandberg and Red.
Blondie charged first, followed by Sandberg and Red. I sidestepped Blondie, grabbed his arm and turned him face first into the driver’s side window of a BMW. The window shattered. He pulled back from the window with pieces of glass stuck in his bloody face. I did not stop to admire my work. Sandberg tackled me, shoved me against a truck. I turned, kneed him in the balls. Sandberg let go. I dropkicked him in the chest. Sandberg stumbled backward into Red.
Kristin stalked behind Red, grabbed her neck, twisted. Red’s head twisted off in Kristin’s hands, and the woman burst into ash and flames.
I hoped onto the hood of the BMW, Sandberg chased after me. Blondie climbed onto the BMW behind me. Blondie swung, I caught his fist, twisted, snapped his wrist. I heel kicked Sandberg in the face. Sandberg flopped off the car, hit the cement. I tore the antennae off the BMW, swung it with superhuman strength. The antennae sliced through Blondie’s neck. Blondie opened his mouth to scream just before his head rolled off his shoulders.
Sandberg, lying on the ground, crawled to his feet and fled into the night. I hopped off the hood of the BMW. Kristin stood next to me.
John Maguire grinned, waved us forward. Two vampires against one man. He’d watched us kick the hell out of three vampires. And he still wasn’t afraid. He drew his sword.
“Be careful of the blade,” I whispered to Kristin.
“Ya think?” Kristin snipped.
John Maguire charged toward us. Kristin sprang into the air, I dove forward. I kicked John in the stomach, Kristin simultaneously kicked him in the face. The impact of our combined strength hurled John Maguire into a black Ford F-150, collapsing the passenger door. A normal man would be dead. John stepped from the truck as if he wasn’t even hurt.
“Casey…” Kristin said.
“Stay calm,” I said.
“Yes… stay calm,” John said. “Your death is near… but stay calm.”
“Where is Dawn?” I shouted. “Is she still alive?”
“Isn’t that an odd question for a vampire to ask?” John asked.
“The answer will keep you alive longer,” I said. “Is she alive? Yes or no.”
“She lives… for now,” he said.
Kristin moved to John’s left. I moved to his right. He chuckled, unafraid.
“You seem in a good mood considering I butchered your granddaughter,” Kristin said.
“I’m in a good mood because I plan to do the same to you,” he said.
John swung the sword at Kristin. She ducked. I kicked at him. He blocked my kick with his forearm, then kicked me in the face. I staggered back, dizzy. The sword flashed. I couldn’t move.
Kristin shoved me out of the way. Kristin rolled, hopped to her feet. I sprang to my feet. John Maguire took one step, then leaped onto the roof of a minivan.
“Casey…” Kristin said nervously.
“Stay calm,” I said again, but this time it felt more to myself than to Kristin.
John cart wheeled off the minivan, landed between Kristin and I. He elbowed Kristin in the face, backhanded me, kicked Kristin. I narrowly ducked his sword, and then he kneed me in the face while I ducked. The back of my head slammed into the minivan. The sword hummed as he slashed at me again.
I ducked, and the sword cut a large groove in the side of the minivan, shooting sparks as it sliced through the metal. I punched him in the face, kicked him in the knee.
“You’ll need to do better!” he laughed.
Kristin lunged with her fingernails and sliced four long cuts into John’s neck. He bellowed, stumbled back. He raised his hand to his neck, felt the blood, his eyes widened.
“You’ll never see your friend again!” he shouted. John ran off, too fast for Kristin and I to follow.
“Did you see that?” Kristin asked. “I hurt him!”
“We can’t keep up with him,” I said. “But we can follow his trail of blood.”
A boot scuffed behind me.
It was John Maguire. I didn’t have time to scream. Kristin didn’t have time to turn around, and his sword plunged deep into her back.
“Nooooooooo!” I screamed, throwing myself at him. I tackled him, knocking him away from Kristin. His sword remained embedded in Kristin’s back. I jerked him to his feet, tossed him into a parked Chevette, then backhanded him. Blood spit from his mouth, and he slumped to his knees.
He fell flat on his chest, his body trembled as he tried to push himself back up.
“Your sword…” I said. “You get your strength from your sword.”
Kristin pulled the sword from her back, and then collapsed on her side, not moving. I walked over to her, grabbed the sword. It felt very heavy, despite my vampire strength.
“You don’t know what you’re holding,” John laughed.
I walked toward him, pressed the tip of the sword against his throat. And I said, “Why don’t you explain it to me.”
“My pleasure,” he grinned.
Lightning erupted from the sword, hitting me in the chest. I was thrown backward, into the street, crashing into the side of a moving truck. I fell onto the sidewalk, rolled, shuddered. My clothes were smoldering from the lightning attack. My hands were blackened from holding the sword.
Shit! I dropped the sword. I ran back to the Chevette, where John Maguire had been moments ago. He was gone. Kristin groaned, writhing in pain on the sidewalk. The wound in her back was hissing and bubbling with white foam, just like the cut I’d had on my arm last week. But this wound was much more serious than mine. I don’t know if she will make it through the night.
Why didn’t John Maguire finish the job? He could have killed both of us.
Wednesday, July 28, 2004
The Vampire Twist
Kristin and I arrived back in Chicago early this morning. We will go hunting for John Maguire and Dawn at sunset. I do not believe John Maguire will be hard to find. He wants to be found.
That will be his mistake. No one threatens my friends and lives. I spent most of the night thinking of a way to kill John Maguire, while Kristin was playing internet poker at ultimate bet. She lost a lot of money, unable to concentrate because one friend is being held hostage, another is dying. I have not fed in the last 48 hours, I am feeling weak, and tired. But there are other concerns.
I found drops of vampire blood inside Kristin’s apartment, obviously from a struggle with John Maguire. Some of it is Dawn’s blood. But not all of it. Some of it is from at least one other vampire, maybe more.
John Maguire, the vampire hunter, has vampires working for him. When I find him, and these vampires, I will kill them all. Tonight.
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
Hunter and Prey
Finding the correct match for Michael is much easier for me than a mortal. I can simply put my nose to work, walking down the streets of Indianapolis at night, smelling passersby… whether they be on foot, bike, car or bus. It is an art form, which I have spent many years developing. Kristin was with me, sniffing, searching.
But my cell phone rang. I glanced at it, saw the caller id. It was Dawn. She was still in Chicago. I answered the phone.
“Dawn, kinda busy,” I said.
“I have your friend,” said a man’s voice.
It was John Maguire.
“IF YOU HURT HER—” I began… but then he hung up. “SHIT!”
Sometimes you have to take control
So I’m back in Indianapolis. I left Chicago to find my bitch friend Kristin, who I knew was planning to steal Michael from me… even though Michael and I were never officially dating. I confronted her, in of all places, Michael’s apartment.
I opened the door, stormed in.
“WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?” I yelled.
Kristin sat on the couch, next to Michael, crying. I rolled my eyes. Michael was too smart to fall for the scared girl routine. She was using her sad sob story life to win his affection. I’ve never used that trick before, but other girls have. It is a useful one, but normally guys use it on girls. For all I knew, she could have led John Maguire back to Michael… got Michael killed… and then I would never forgive her.
“I’m sorry I left the way I did,” Kristin said. “Michael called looking for you… but I answered the phone. I’m sorry. I freaked. Everything in my world just feels like it’s falling apart.”
“Tell me another one,” I snapped.
“Michael’s dying,” Kristin said. “That’s why he called. I sensed something was wrong, and I forced him to tell me over the phone… even though he wanted to talk to you.”
“What?” I gasped.
Michael nodded his head, and he said, “I knew before you left.”
“Is that why your girlfriend broke up with you?” I asked.
“No,” Michael said. “But her timing couldn’t have been worse.”
I wasn’t ready for this. I closed the door behind me, and quietly sat on the couch next to Michael and Kristin. I didn’t know what to say. Michael is my best friend. He can’t die. He just can’t!
“I wanted to tell you… but I knew you had to help Kristin,” Michael said. “I was waiting for the right time.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“He needs a kidney,” Kristin said.
“No problem,” I said. “What blood type?”
“I don’t want that kind of help,” Michael said. “I’ll stay on the list… like everyone else.”
“But you’re not like everyone else,” I said. “You’re actually a good person. Kristin and I will take care of this tonight.”
“What are you going to do? Kill someone and give me their kidney?” Michael shook his head. “Even if you found a proper donor, you’re not doctors.”
“We can be very convincing,” Kristin said. “But this is not a low profile job.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I will not let Michael die.”
“You don’t have time to help me,” Michael said. “What about John Maguire?”
“Michael… I always have time for you,” I said.
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
My friend, the b*tch
Our conversation ended like this:
“Thank you for listening,” I said.
“No problem,” Michael said. “I’m always here when you need someone to listen.”
“I wish Kristin would have told me where she was going,” I said.
Michael paused, then said, “You don’t know?”
“She’s here, in Indy. She’s staying at your apartment. We went out and had drinks last night.”
“She’s in Indy?”
Kristin has always had a crush on Michael. She probably thought she could kill two birds with one stone. Avoid John Maguire in Chicago, and pick up Michael on the rebound from his broken relationship.
I’m in Chicago, putting myself in danger, and she’s in Indianapolis picking up my man. Well, Michael isn’t my man, officially. He’s a friend. A good friend.
Kristin has bitch tendencies, but she has never used them against me… until now. I am very hurt… and very angry. When she returns, she’s in trouble. I will not employ mind games. I will employ the tactic of shoving my pump straight up her ass.
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
My friend is gone
“You stupid bitch!” I yelled. “Dawn and I are here trying to save your ass, and you don’t have the decency to apologize!”
“Apologize!?” Kristin yelled. “It was a mistake. I didn’t know the girl was John Maguire’s daughter.”
“You put my life and Dawn’s life in danger! Are you sorry!?”
Kristin stood up and walked out of the apartment. That was last night. She hasn’t been back since. I wonder if she is okay, even though I’m still pissed off. I just want her to be okay, and hopefully John Maguire didn’t find her.
Monday, July 19, 2004
There are a lot of things I believe in...
- She let her temper get the best of her when a girl “intentionally” spilled a drink on Kristin’s new dress at a club. So Kristin set out to kill the girl. She figured she could feed and get revenge at the same time.
- But Kristin had been drinking a lot that night.
- Not only did she kill the girl, she made an example of her… cutting off her fingers and toes… and carved her name into the girl’s back.
- But because Kristin was drunk, when she stalked the girl, she followed the wrong one… and killed the wrong girl.
- The girl she killed, is the granddaughter of John Maguire… Vampire Hunter
- To sum up… lost her temper, got drunk, killed the wrong girl, carved her name in the girl’s back… and the girl she killed is the granddaughter of John Maguire.
One would think the police would be all over Kristin, because her name is written on the girl’s back. But the police never found the body. John Maguire did. He doesn’t want police interference. This is personal.
A simple apology is not going to make this problem disappear. John Maguire is going to keep coming until Kristin is dead… and he is going to take sadistic pleasure in killing her… and her friends. I’m watching The Princess Bride before the sun completely goes down… and then I will go hunting for food. I’ve had an entire day to think about it, and I still have no idea what to do about John Maguire. Kristin has saved my life before. I owe her the same, even if this is completely her fault.
Sunday, July 18, 2004
Dinner and Movies
Kristin left us, returning nearly two hours later with four DVDs, and a 19-year-old boy. The boy had green dyed dreadlocks, wore a tattered Chicago Bears Jersey, and smelled terrible. I wondered if this was the poor guy working the counter at the video store, or if Kristin had simply snagged him on the way home.
Either way, tonight was going to be dinner and movies… until I had enough time to think about what Kristin had told us.
As wonderful as Dawn is, I know she won’t not be able to find an answer. It’s up to Kristin and I to find a way out of this problem. For now, we will feed on this poor kid… watch movies, and drink wine. Hopefully an answer will come to me tomorrow.
Kristin’s problem makes my brain hurt thinking about it. Worse, I know in the morning we will have a corpse to dispose of… because this boy is not enough to feed three vampires. He will most certainly die tonight while we drink from him.
Dawn has the first movie ready, so I must leave. I think she has chosen American Beauty to be the first movie of the night. I am looking forward to seeing The Lord of the Rings - The Return of the King, but I don’t know if Kristin’s entertainment system is enough to do the movie justice.
Kristin hasn't said anything to me about John Maguire, and it's pissing me off. I can barely feel the fingers and wrist of my right arm where John's sword cut me last night. I don't like not knowing what's going on. Kristin is one of my best friends... but if she doesn't talk to me before sunset, there will be hell to pay...
John Maguire, the vampire hunter, came out of nowhere.
“RUN!” I shouted. “I can handle this!”
“We’re not leaving you!” Dawn said.
“DO WHAT I SAY!” I snapped. The two of them hesitated, but finally did as I had told them. They ran, leaving me alone with the vampire hunter.
“Casey Coleman,” he said. It unnerved me that he knew my name. He is not a big man, maybe 5-8… 165 pounds. He’s bald, with a goatee, and black goggles that I believe allow him to see better at night. He wore a long black trench coat.
“Hey John… what’s up,” I said. The skateboarders stopped their tricks when John drew the samurai sword from the folds of his trench coat.
“I’m not here for you,” John said. “I only want Kristin. Take me to her, and I’ll let you live.”
“I can’t do that,” I said.
John smiled. I could tell he didn’t really want me to take him to Kristin. He wanted to fight. He stepped toward me, swinging the sword at my head. I ducked, rolled, kicked him in the side. John coughed and fell on the sidewalk. The skateboarder punks watching clapped and cheered.
John sprang forward, he moved fast for a mortal. The sword flashed, and the tip grazed my arm. The cut began to hiss, and white foam bubbled on my arm where the sword had touched me.
The sword has been blessed, maybe soaked in Holy Water. I don’t know a lot about these things. I only know a normal sword can’t hurt like this. Maybe it’s made of silver. I staggered back, suddenly feeling very weak. It was only a small cut on my arm.
John laughed and watched as I cradled my arm against my body.
“Oh…” I said dumbly, and I fell to my knees. My vision blurred. Something about the sword, like a tranquilizer. To my left, I saw car headlights getting closer. They were bright, headed straight toward me.
John raised the sword, and chuckled in front of Wrigley Stadium. He stood inches away from me, and held the sword like a baseball bat. He rocked back and forth like a nervous batter in the batter’s box. He even spit, just like a batter spitting tobacco spit. It could have been quite funny, except I knew he wanted to cut my head off with one clean swing of the sword.
The car headlights were getting closer. I turned my head, the car was almost on top of me. I rolled, the front of the bumper clipped my shoulder as the car narrowly missed me… but smashed into John Maguire.
The tires smoked as the car stopped, shifted into reverse, and came back toward me. It stopped next to me. The passenger door of the car opened. Dawn stepped out, grabbed me… shoved me into the back seat. Kristin was driving. My vision was bad, I couldn’t even tell what kind of car I was in…
Something about the sword… whatever it was made of… and then, as Kristin drove off, I looked back. I saw John Maguire stand. We ran over him with a car, but he was standing. And then I lost consciousness.
I woke up this morning with a massive headache. I was in Kristin’s bed. Dawn was asleep in a chair next to me. She didn’t look comfortable. I rolled over, rubbed my head… tried to remember everything that had happened. My forearm, where the blade had cut me, was wrapped in white gauze.
The bedroom door opened. Kristin stepped in, wearing a red silk robe with gold trim. Her hair was held up in a bun with gold chopsticks.
“How do you feel?” Kristin asked.
“Dead,” I said. “Do you want to tell me why John Maguire wants to kill you?”
She stood in the doorway for a few seconds, and then her gaze shifted to the floor, and then she left the room… closing the door behind her. Dawn didn’t even move in the chair when the door clicked shut. He’s a real vampire hunter. Kristin better tell me real damn soon what the hell is going on.
Saturday, July 17, 2004
Friends help their friends, no matter what. I just wish I knew what I was putting my neck on the line for…
We deserve to know what is going on. I don’t think that is asking too much.
The Vampire Hunter
Normally those are the only words needed to describe a great time. But Kristin and Dawn were not happy when I arrived. Thankfully they understood why I was delayed. They both know Michael too.
Kristin is tall with beautiful long red hair. She is the most fashion conscious of the three of us, and she always seems to be wearing something fabulously outrageous every time I see her. For a vampire, she does not believe in going unnoticed. She even designs most of her own clothes. Her major downside is her temper… she has a vindictive side. It is no secret that she has had a crush on Michael for a long time. The fact that he had his heart broken might be enough for Kristin to track down his ex and do a little vengeance.
Dawn is an inch shorter than me, making her 5-1. She has short blond hair. I have always found Dawn curious, because she fits into the molds of ditz and leader at the same time. Before she became a vampire, she did brief stints as a reporter in Miami and the Chicago Tribune. Before that, she was a writer and editor at her college paper. Her personality is so magnetic that I was drawn to her almost immediately.
I created Kristin in1840 (she was 20 at the time). She was my first vampire sired. I created Dawn in 1985 (she was 26 at the time), she was my ninth vampire. These two girls are my best friends.
Normally we would have partied all night long, but there is a new problem in Chicago. His name is John Maguire. He is a vampire hunter. A real one. I do not know all the details about this man, but he is a threat to anyone not of “the light.” He is rumored to be over 150-years-old… blessed by monks… he drinks Holy Water like it’s Gatorade… so if a vampire bites him, the vampire dies.
Dawn, Kristin and I have never faced a “real” vampire hunter before. I am still waiting on the details about why he is after Kristin. But Kristin hasn’t even told Dawn why…
Vampire hunters of this caliber do not waste time with younger vampires like us… unless Kristin did something really stupid. I’m still waiting to hear what happened… and now that it is daylight in Chicago, I will sleep on the couch… and/or veg infront of the television until Kristin feels comfortable talking to us about what is going on. With nothing else to do, I flip through yesterday’s USA Today, which has an interesting story about work place violence. I myself have never had a job, so I don’t know how stressful it is… being a vampire is enough work all by itself… especially when one of your friends is being hunted by a professional.
I wish Michael was here with me…
Friday, July 16, 2004
Martha Stewart and I
I am finally getting ready to leave Michael’s apartment. The sun sets later during the summer, so I have been stuck watching the news of Martha Stewart’s sentencing. A tad lenient, five months. Celebrities always get off easy. I wonder if I was a celebrity, if all the murders I’ve committed would only be considered misdemeanors. Not that it matters. Vampires have other benefits. If I was imprisoned, five months would go by in the blink of an eye… considering I’m already over 200-years-old. That only sounds old. For a vampire, getting old is if I reach 1000-years-old.
There are 1000-year-old vampires who are so powerful they can walk in the sunlight. But walking in the sunlight is not my goal today. I only want to be with Michael for a little while longer. Indiana is such a strange state, because they don’t change their clocks for daylight savings… which always throws me off considering the amount of travel I do. But I am more awake now, more aware of what is going on around me. It should be dark soon… and this time, I am certain of it. My hangover is in full swing, and I have a long drive ahead of me, and I am already a day behind schedule, and my friend is depressed.
This is not a promising beginning for this weekend.
So I stayed in Indy, and let Michael cry… and I drank with him. Because of my enhanced immune system, alcohol has little effect on me unless I drink a lot. Michael is one of my best friends, and I hate seeing him hurting. So I drank a lot.
And we kissed. He is an excellent kisser. I don’t remember much more from last night, but I know there was no sex. Sex would be a weird ingredient to our relationship. I want Michael to be my friend. And he wants to be my friend. But we were drunk, and sad… so we kissed.
Or, actually I kissed him.
We made sure the drapes to his apartment were tightly closed to hide from the morning sun, and we fell asleep in his bed. I woke up only a few minutes ago, and must now wait for sundown to get back in my Porsche and drive to Chicago. But I really don’t want to leave… and in all honesty, I’m not upset Michael is single again.
Maybe we can be more than friends… But I don’t have time to explore this. I am already a day late, and I don’t know how pissed Kristin and Dawn will be with me. They have big plans for something, and I haven’t received any voice messages from them. But I haven’t tried to call them either. Instead, I want to spend a few more peaceful minutes with Michael… even if he is depressed because of his idiot ex-girlfriend... and his hangover...
Atkins versus Nicotine
The fat man fought me, but I was too strong. It took only minutes for me to drain the blood from him. He didn’t die, but he did lose consciousness while I bit into his neck. There was no way I could drink enough blood to kill a man of his size. If I tried, I would have too much blood in my system… and get a feeling of being drunk.
Being a petite brunette girl allows me to seduce large men. But the taste of nicotine in his blood irks me, as does his foul odor. He hadn’t bathed today, or perhaps in the last week. He was probably one of those poor slobs who wondered why no woman wanted to date him. I wondered why he believed a beautiful woman like me would ever be interested in a man like him.
I found his wallet tucked inside his jacket pocket. His driver’s license read: David Tresser.
I ignored the credit cards and took the cash from his wallet. He had a lot of cash. With the bad comb over, I imagined him to be a computer programmer.
I left David’s body in the parking lot. He would wake up in a few hours with a bad headache. There were security cameras, but I didn’t care. I sprinted from the parking lot, licking my teeth repeatedly. His blood was terrible. Almost as bad as someone on the Atkin’s diet. If one can be called a professional taste tester for blood, I most certainly qualify. Smoker, no. Atkins, no. Professional athlete… depends on my mood, but no. Too many steroids or muscle enhancers. I have a friend who prefers crackheads, but my friend can be an idiot. I suppose I don’t have a preference for any type of blood. I just know what I don’t like. Is that strange? I don’t like smokers, I don’t like people on the Atkins Diet. To me it just seems like a coin flip as to which is healthiest. Smoking helps people lose weight, so does Atkins. Whatever. Both taste bad.
The headlights flashed on as I climb behind the wheel of my black Porsche. The windows are tinted black incase I don’t make it to Chicago before sunrise. Chicago is not a far drive from Indianapolis, but my gas tank is on empty. Can I make it to the gas station before the prices change again.
Oh… and my name is Meghan Casey Coleman. Yes, I hate my name. My friends call me Casey.