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Jeff Thomson woke with a start. He thought he awoke from a nightmare, but couldn’t manage to remember a disturbing dream, or for that matter any dream at all. All he had was a particular sense of impending doom. An odd way for the day to begin, true, but not odd enough for Jeff to take any real notice of it. At least not yet, but it hung about him with great tenacity.
It was a Saturday and most people had long since abandoned the idea that it was morning, Jeff was not among them. He showered and the feeling only grew he tried every trick he could think of trying to redirect his mind to other things. Jeff tried to think about work. He directed his mind towards building the ultimate network, for that is what he called work. But each new problem, each technical detail he threw at himself always led him back to doom. He just couldn’t make things work the way they should. It all led to the collapse of the network for political, technical, or management problems. With passing time his feeling grew more intense and he began to worry. Jeff soon gave up on his virtual network and looked for some breakfast.
After suitably dressing Jeff began the process of scavenging through his mostly bare kitchen. Minutes passed as he searched and he was momentarily distracted from his dread, but then he found his month old milk and it returned. He continued searching, finally managing to locate Lipton noodles alfredo and a frozen eggroll. Jeff tossed them both in the microwave and zapped them, bringing them to the right temperature if not texture. Then again, what exactly is the right texture for Lipton noodles alfredo?
Jeff dropped down on his beat up couch and began playing with remotes. He flipped the TV on and did a quick channel surf which reinforced his feeling of societal doom. He quickly gave up on bad Chevy Chase flicks and rewound his tape of the few remaining good cartoons from this mornings selections. He ate and watched The Mighty Tick, Anamanics, The X-men, and Gargoyles. Never quite managing to break free of his particular feeling. He realized he was in trouble when he found himself drawing parallels between himself and the guy at the receiving end of the Mighty Tick’s pummelling. Yes he realized he was in a sorry shape so he abandoned the TV as it wasn’t providing it’s promised oblivion and sought out a book, the one he was reading in fact. Jeff continued reading and several hours later finished Robert Hienlien’s The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. He poignantly felt the death of Mike. He was left heartbroken and deeply grieved. The doom clung to him like a cloud to a rain god, so he was reduced to his most desperate measure. He would have to emerse himself in people.
Jeff called up Abigail, one of the few people who enjoyed people watching in just the same way he did and arranged for a watch. He was supposed to meet her at around eight at Jekyll and Hyde’s a bar that catered to the macabre. After he briefly considered whether he ought to be going to Discovery Zone instead, given his current mood. Then he remembered that killing children was still illegal so Jekyll and Hyde’s was a much better option. Even these light hearted thoughts were tinged with a certain gloom which he still couldn’t place.
After dressing again, this time appropriate to his destination he went over to J&Hs. He travelled by bus, because if the antics of people alone would not exercise his feeling, Jeff was fairly certain that a few shots of tequila would cure most feeling. He got off the bus a block and half from J&H’s. The bus ride was slow and torturous affair, he felt fear and hatred emanating from his travelling companions. He was glad to be off the bus and he quickly began walking towards the bar. He looked for Abigail, any sign of familiar comfort. His gaze did slow sweeps of the scene in front of him looking for the thongs of people and scenes of chaos that he was depending on to distract him from the futility of it all.
As he was walking, his eyes caught upon the eyes of another. They were beautiful brown eyes. There was something about them that called to Jeff. The rest of her was hidden by shadow as she clung to wall of an alley across the street. Without a second thought he crossed the street slowly and steadily approaching her. Some part of his mind was vaguely aware of the form of Abigail in front of the Bar, but he paid no attention to her moving towards the eyes.
The closer he got the more of her he saw. She was young, not a child but young enough that she probably couldn’t get into the bar. A few years younger the Jeff. She had shoulder length brown hair that absolutely shown, her skin was the color of a fine ivory. She didn’t wear a fancy dress designed to allure, all she had was jeans and a simple shirt. None the less, Jeff felt an incredible attraction towards her. They were separated by no more than an arms length now. She smiled shyly, he returned the expression. When she smiled all the fear and dread of the day melted away he exalted in her glow. To Jeff she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes upon. Her very essence and aura left him speechless.
He reached out and took her hand. He tried to speak, to introduce himself, to speak of her beauty, to say all the things he felt he was required to say. She quieted him with a gesture. She stood on her toes and their lips met, then they kissed, and then they really kissed. The kind kiss that is filled with passion, they kind that occupies TV and fantasies in roughly equal proportions.
She broke off the kiss and whispered in his ear, “I’m sorry, love.” With those words retractable fangs silently dropped into place. She kissed his neck for one last time. Two sharp fangs punctured his jugular and blood was slowly drained from his body. Jeff was in ecstasy. He had never felt such intense pleasure he never knew such sexual release.
She drained him falling to the ground with him slowly sucking all of the life from his veins. He died contented in his method of doom. She could not share his joy. Yet again the guilt passed through her and she shuddered. She cried. The poor man before her had died so she could live and she knew there was no way to avoid it. She would have cried over him until dawn, but someone was approaching. She disappeared into the shadows.
Watching from the roof tops she saw a woman approached. The woman called out a name, Jeff. The Vampire assumed that was his name. She fought with herself to leave but couldn’t. The more she knew about him the more it would hurt, but still she could not leave. She saw the woman cry over the corpse as she had done moments before. She was screaming incoherently for help. A crowd began to gather, the vampire managed to stagger away tears pouring from her eyes.
She was heart broken tonight as she was every night. Doing what she must to confine the berserker hunger just below the surface.