The Hundred Questions (part 3)

 

Dressed up, I gathered my dirty clothes and headed down the stairs for the dining room. “Andie?” He sat leaned back in his chair with one foot kept firmly on the floor for balance. When I said his name, he turned to look and raise a brow at me, probably confused about the clothes I held, but I was about to clear that up for the both of us. “Where do I put the dirty clothes?”

He gave me a nod and laughed. “Just leave them and they’ll pick it up.” They?

“Who will?” I guess that meant there were more than just us in this house?

“Ghouls. I told you I had some.” I didn’t think they lived here.

“Where are they?” He shrugged.

“Living a life. Some have a family, others are busy with work or a hobby. Don’t worry, I pick which ones are allowed in your room. No felons or anything like that.” That was still not very reassuring and kept me confused about the matter. Did he imply they came from their own homes just to do our laundry?

“None of them live here?” He gave me a funny look, grinned, shook his head, and restrained a laugh.

“No. Like I said, they have their own lives.” The way he said that made me wonder what it meant to be a Ghoul.

“What are Ghouls?” Before he answered, he offered me a seat at the table. I sat down my dirty clothes on the table and leaned my arms across them lazily.

“Let me be frank first.” He sat upright, which made the front legs of his chair click down on the dining room floor. It looked like he was about to go for his cigarettes, but held back. One sigh later, he spoke calmly. “You were supposed to be added to them. A Ghoul.”

“What would that have meant for me?” When I pictured ghouls, I envisioned them as zombies or half-dead cannibals. From what I recalled, I thought they were grave-robbers that ate the flesh off of the deceased. That was probably false, like everything else I’d come to learn about being a vampire.

“You’d follow my orders. That would have been it. Being a Ghoul is like -- You know what a Thrall is?” I nodded, since I played a game that had a main character with that name. “Good. It is like that.”

“What is the difference right now? I’m pretty sure--”

“You would be considered a Thrall, but not a Ghoul. Ghouls are still--” He pauses a moment, I guess to consider how best to compare the differences between a Ghoul and whatever I was. “Since you went vampire, which I guess that’s what we are, that would make you a Vampire Thrall. See, Ghouls can’t make other Ghouls. You can.”

“Because of what you said I did? I took to your blood fully?” He gave a shaky nod, like that was half-right.

“Kind of. You did take to me fully, but I don’t give Ghouls my blood. They become Ghouls when I bite them.” Now I was more confused than before I asked about this.

“I’m not sure if I understand. Did you give me your blood because of that?”

“When I bite someone, I guess there’s a venom or something like that? I don’t know. Never went to turn and cough for a Doc, leave out asking about my gnashers. Anyways, it causes lots of pain. Enough that the mind can’t handle it and knocks you the fuck out.” He points at me. “You didn’t go down without a very big fucking fight. I’m talking about some serious high quality Iron Will shit there.”

I softly replied with, “I remember.”

“Yeah, well, you stayed awake long enough to feel that first Thirst. Ghouls need blood for that, kind of like a trigger, but it could have been any blood. Fucking Hell, they could have taken a piece of raw steak and enjoyed the saucy juice. That trace of blood in it would have sealed the deal.” He flips his hand up in the air, like I was presented before an invisible audience. “And here we have a surprise of the lifetime! Changing into something marvelous! That wine? Remember?” I nodded. “That should have taken care of it.” A loud clap! His hands held together as he looked at me over them, like he was in prayer. “I couldn’t believe you were already thirsty for more.” He shook his head and laughed. “So, I experimented. My blood, that thick crap in me right now, did the trick and knocked you out.”

This conversation produced more questions with every answer I received. “You didn’t know -- Wait, you’re saying I was changing after being bitten? Into what? I thought Ghouls looked like normal people? Unchanged.”

He held a hand up to stall for time. After a minute, he spoke. “This is not really easy for me to explain. Reason why is because I don’t understand half of what took place between us. I mean, between the bite and feeding you my blood.” He leaned in towards me, squinted, and asked in an ambivalent tone, “Do you really want to hear my half-baked idea on what could have happened?” He shook his head and gave an ambiguous statement, “I don’t want you to be misled.”

“But what you told me, so far, has been accurate?” He nodded rapidly and gave a little laugh. “Ah, okay. I’ll--” What should I say? Just give it to me straight and I’d figure this out?

“We’ll figure this out. If not, I can try finding out who might.” That made me wonder if he was referring to another vampire or just someone he could trust well enough to investigate what had happened. “Good to go on, then?” He held a thumbs-up for me to give him the ‘Okay’ or not. I nodded and he relaxed back into his chair, rocked back, and held a foot out in front of himself for balance again. “To be blunt, I imagined it.”

I glanced away a second, processed what he said, and looked back at him confused. “You imagined what?”

He covered his eyes and shook his head. “That’s the hard part of this explanation. It would be easy to say I imagined you.” His hand pulled away from his face enough to peek over his fingers at me. “No, that’s not right. Fuck... You reminded me of someone. Before the bite, but after, the longer I held you in my arms, the more you resembled -- Yeah.” He shrugged and kept quiet.

I didn’t know what to say after that. From what he’d said, I looked like someone he knew.

“Did I resemble her in any other way?” His grin told me I did before he nodded.

“Your voice, not really, but the way you talk. You also have a knack for cleaning up after yourself. Even when I scared the shit out of you, packing that wagon back up with those boxed cookies.” Mr. Corso lifted his head up, dropped his hand down over his heart, and stared up at the ceiling. “She took control over the simplest matter. Like the garden, cooking, Hell, even my dress. She was someone for appearances, but not because she wanted to impress someone. It was order. It would be our destruction if we didn’t maintain our state, for appearances.”

“That sounds normal. Like making the bed, taking a shower, brushing your teeth, and having breakfast in the morning. That’s initial structure for a daily life.” He pulled his attention away from the ceiling and stared at me. For a moment, I thought he was going to laugh. He kinda did, but it was a quiet laugh, like this was no matter to laugh at. “What?”

“Nothing. Ah, tell me, could you--” He closed his mouth and took in a big breath, let it out slowly, and looked me over for a few seconds before he resumed. “Remind me, what’s your name?”

“My name? Did you forget?” He waved and rolled his hand at me to gesture I go on.

“Humor me.”

“Ar--” I stopped before I said it. I left my mouth gaped, looked away from him to wonder what name I had been about to say. It was a familiar name, but didn’t feel right, then it left me.

“May I see you look at me?” The way he phrased that made me think he wanted to order me to look at him, but he asked. I closed my mouth and turned to look back at him. “Could you tell me your last name, at least?”

I tested it silently, just to feel if that felt wrong as well. It didn’t. “Audeline.”

“Let’s call you by that name from now on. You don’t appear disturbed by it.” He remained silent, sighed, and nodded. I overheard him whisper, “Not so half-baked after all.” More questions branched out from every answer. I understood what he meant by ‘Hundred Questions’ now.

“These changes. They happened after you gave me your blood?” I watched him nod in confirmation and then looked away from him to think about that. In another twisted way, I understood him once again. He imagined me as someone else and his blood manifested those changes.

For now, I wanted to get through the initial questions I had. This would derail our discussion, but I wanted to know about this subject. “What is with all the jeans?”

It took a moment for him to register what I said and then nodded. “Yeah, I hope that will be enough?”

“Enough?” This time I was confused.

“I asked and they told me--”

“They. Ghouls?” He nodded. “Could you give them names?”

“Ah, how about when you meet them? Some, I’m never letting them set eyes on you. It would cause problems.” I didn’t ask because I wanted to get back to the main subject of all of these jeans.

“Jeans? What did they say about them?” He held up two fingers.

“First, you would be going through clothes crazy fast. Second, since girls fluctuate with their weight, have a variety.” The image of a chubby, bouncing and rolling vampire popped in my head. I laughed. “Lemme guess, tubby blood-sucker on your mind?” I nodded and quietly calmed down.

“Heh, sorry.” Took me a moment to put down the giddy picture in my head. “Do vampires gain weight?”

“Yes and no. From my experience, only women.” I raised a puzzled brow at that answer. “Ah, let me correct that. Mothers.” I shook my head a little before he waved a half circle over himself to imitate a round belly.

“Uhhh… I thought vampires couldn’t get--”

“They can, if you feed a lot. I mean, A LOT. We are talking about an epidemic sweeping through the countryside. Both beast and men would keel over.” That made me wonder how many outbreaks throughout history were caused by these vampires. Again, this would derail from the subject I wanted to figure out first, but this sounded far more important than why I had only jeans to pick with my outfits.

“How often does this happen?” He shook his head at me.

“Doesn’t. Not anymore. Society has put aside folklore for a good reason. They don’t believe in it, that’s fine with me. Keeps us all under the radar.” I guess that meant it only happened while paganism and such were still a thing?

“Does that mean it stopped after Christianity dominated?” That would totally make sense.

“Yep. They swept out the old fogies that still believed in us and we kept to the ‘Shadows.’” With a shrug, he pointed at me. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have to worry about you -- Oh shit.” He started to laugh and I looked away. “Ha! Made ya blush.”

No way, ever, would I end up like that. I knew for a fact that I’d never had an interest in relationships with anyone. Especially guys. That was a curious thought. Was I interested in girls?

“Hey, look this way, will ya?” I faced him and hoped that my face was cleared up by then. “Sorry about that.” A laugh tried to break free from his smile, but he shook it off. A breather later, he resumed. “Yes, Christianity came in, but we, or I should say they, stopped. It was before I was born. I mean, really born into this world.”

“Back to the jeans. Why would my weight fluctuate if it only happens under very special conditions?” He threw his hands up.

“I took their advice and went with it. Women know their own kind, after all.” This still didn’t explain the jeans.

“Why jeans?”

“Why not? You want more pants? I can put an order in, but the jeans weren’t being used and I had a use for them. They gave them up for free.” Okay, they’re free, that explained the jeans.

“Thank you.” How long did it take for me to finally get the riddle of the jeans answered? I sighed and contemplated if I wanted to ask him the next question on my mind or not. “Next thing I wanted to talk about is about my hair. I want it short, but I didn’t find any scissors.”

“Would ya mind keeping it long for a bit?” How long was a ‘bit’ for an immortal?

“How long?”

“Until I can get a hold of someone. My regular barber is out on vacation.” I wondered how long that would be. A few days, a week? Month?

I repeated, “How long?”

“Until I get a call.” He got up out of his chair and walked out to the kitchen. “Drink?” Within the doorway, he paused and watched me until I responded.

I shook my head, but I said, “Yes.” My attention wasn’t fully on him at the moment. It was probable that my thoughts had still been on my hair and these eyes. When he came back, I would have a question ready about these eyes.

Did I want to ask him if the woman I resembled had eyes like these? Would he confirm that or say that I was better off not knowing? I could bring it up as a rhetorical question. That might work out in my favor. It could reveal a little more about this vampire business in the middle of it.

He held a couple of black bottles. It didn’t occur to me that, when he asked if I wanted a drink, he meant that kind of ‘drink.’ I guess I’d find out what he meant about the differences in taste.

He sat down in his seat with both bottles. I gave the drinks a glance, then looked across at him, and back at them again. “I did say yes.”

“I heard ya. These are for me.” Why was I always so confused around him? “Gimme a moment?” One of the bottles was what he’d been at before and he was about to finish it off in one guzzle. Finished with a quick sleeve-wipe across his lips, he popped and waved the other bottle towards me in a salute. I waited until he finished the second one. Here I thought I was the one called a glutton.

Back to the questions. “Andie? My eyes were brown. Are they like this now because I’m a vampire?” He shook his head a little while he rattled the second bottle for any drops left in there.

“Nah, how we are before, we remain after our life-changing episode.” He had his eyes on the empty bottle. For some reason, he returned the bottle to his lips and stared at me over the black-glassed container.

“Does that mean these eyes are -- Wait, no one has ever changed like I did?” He shook his head at me. “Why am I unique?” I had expected a laugh, shrug, maybe an eye-roll, something to tell me he didn’t know. Instead, he stared at me in silence.

Then he handed the bottle to me.

I didn’t know why until I took it from him. There was still weight in it. A look at the bottom showed me there was liquid in there. After a shake, it didn’t really move all that much. It was thick.

My eyes widened as at the same time my whole body felt a shock, like static that pricked all over my skin, and some of the strength in me faltered. I nearly dropped the bottle, but managed to set it down on my thigh. I shook my head.

“Drink up.” His open palm raised, as did my hand to my lips. I tilted my head to the side and stared in disbelief at him. The fucking liar. I felt the tight rim of the bottle push against my lower lip, but I didn’t open my mouth. “I told you, when it is needed. Only when that happens. Now drink.”

With my other hand, I smacked the bottle out and away from me. If that bottle didn’t contain such a thick substance it would have splashed and spilled out. “You -- What the FUCK! How could you -- NO!” He held his hand up to calm me again. “You fucking listen to me! You said I wouldn’t be controlled anymore. Tell me, is the reason really that important?” He picked up the bottle after he got out of his seat. He stood over me and observed how pissed I was. Then he smiled.

“Not afraid of me anymore? Glad that worked.” He sat the bottle back down on the table in front of me. “Hey, I’m sorry for dropping the bomb on you like that.”

“What are you talking about?” I kept my eyes on him and waited for his explanation.

“Last night, your speech improved, thanks to a little midnight snack.” His once injured hand waved at me. “From what I’ve seen, you’re becoming better. Not just looks, but you don’t stammer anymore. That’s just one thing I’ve noticed.” A bit of laughter and he added, “And you swear.” Stammer?

“What if those were a part of who I am. Who I was.”

“Let me make myself clear. Did you enjoy testing everyone’s patience? How long do you think it would’ve taken stuttering every question?” If he was implying I used to stutter regularly, then that still would have been a part of who I was. It would have frustrated me, but it would have been something I could have overcome.

“So? What else? Is there something that you think could be better? I’m not good enough?” He held up his hand again to keep me cool. “What is it?”

“Are you comfortable with who you are now?” What should I have said? Yes or no? I felt fine as I was, but there were a lot of things about myself I wanted answered! If I said yes, he’d drop the subject or I’d keep fighting. If no, then what? Would he change me back to what I was?

“What if I said no? Wait! I’m being literal. What if?” I might not be afraid of him, not as much anymore, but that was only the unreasonable fear I harbored. There was every reason to be afraid of what he could do to me if I wasn’t happy with who I was now. He was a vampire. How hard could it be for him to simply kill me?

“Then drink. It’ll build confidence. When I ask for your name, no more hesitation. Everything that feels wrong, won’t. Gone. All better.” The way that sounded disturbed me. Was he saying I’d kill what little of my old self remained in me?

“Will I pass out when I drink this?”

“Remember walking with me through the neighborhood?” I gave him a nod. “It’ll be like that.”

“I guess there won’t be as many questions after I drink this, will there?” Figured he’d laugh and he did. “Thought so.” If I drank this, I’ll be tamed like a good little Vampire Thrall.

“I’ll make a deal. You drink that, I’ll see about letting you go back to school.” He got my attention. “Do we have a deal?”

I nodded and grabbed the bottle. Willingly, I brought the bottle up to my lips and gave the container a shake to get it going. It was like trying to get ketchup out. That was a disgusting way to think about it. Gradually, it made its way down and into my mouth. I swallowed it as quickly as I could, mustering what I could to keep it down, and waited until it had drooled its last drop.

“Okay. If you have more questions, you good asking me about it in the morning?” We both were standing now. I handed him the empty bottle and he added it to the other on the table. Those two empty bottles made me wonder if he recycled or not. That was probably a question I’d forget about tomorrow.

I just gave him a look, grabbed up the dirty clothes I had sitting on the table and turned away to go upstairs.

“Hey! Trust me, okay? I really am trying to look out for you.” I stopped and gave him one more silent nod before retreating.

Once I had the door shut behind me, I immediately went to the bed and sat down for a few seconds. I sucked in my stomach and tensed. Then I roughly jammed my fingers down my throat. Those dirty clothes sat in my lap for only a moment before I sunk my face down to vomit into the bundle. Gasping, I did this a few more times, muffling myself in the clothes, until I knew that vampiric blood was purged. I’d have to hide this somehow. Going to the bathroom would give me away, before or after I had acted, but I might find someway to cover this up.

There were plenty of cobwebs for me to conceal the bundle. Down on my knees, I began to snowball the webbing around the messy bundle. It took a little while until I was satisfied with the disguise. I tossed the sticky ball off into the corner furthest from the door, and began to undress for bed.

Maybe it was true that he was doing all of this to help me, but I wasn’t going to let him kill whoever I was.