Sad Story
I didn't know I'd fallen asleep until I was dreaming. And just what I was dreaming was enough to make me wish I'd stayed awake.
I was running, running even though my lungs were on fire, about to burst with pain. My legs felt raw and stretched to the brink of ripping open, and my heart galloped like an errant horse chased by death. Of course, I didn't know why I was running, but I had the sense that I was in terrible danger….and not just that I was in danger, but someone else was, too. If I didn't run fast enough, they would die, but if I did then something bad would happen to me. My mind shied away from that, but I kept on running. Apparently this person I was running for was more important than my life.
And then suddenly, something hit me from behind with a blow so powerful it knocked the legs out from under me and sent me flying. I landed, tumbled, and then lay on the ground of wherever I was and watched as a dark form approached me. As it emerged from the shadows, I felt terror race through my veins and make my brain go numb. My heart skipped a beat and it took it a moment to restart.
A hideous-looking man approached me, his face wrinkled into a snarl, two rows of razor-sharp teeth bared, red eyes gleaming. His flaming inferno eyes held me where I sat, and then, hypnotized, I watched in a daze as he crouched down next to me, grinning. He took my face in his hands as terror raced through my body; but there was nothing I could do. My limbs felt weak and watery from staring into his blazing orbs and as his teeth bit into the flesh of my neck, all I could do was scream… And of course I had to wake up screaming, which meant the Frog brothers racing into my room and asking if I was alright a million times while they searched for any hiding vampires.
"Guys, will you calm down already? It was just a nightmare!" I insisted irritably. "Well, you scared the shit out of us screaming like that!" Allan retorted and I rolled my eyes. "I'm so sorry," I drawled sarcastically. "I'll try to control what I dream from now on!"
"All I'm saying is that-'' Allan started to yell something, but Edgar cut him off. "Guys! Stop arguing! Allan, it was just a nightmare, you can't blame her for that," he reasoned and Allan rolled his eyes at his brother. "Whatever," he growled and headed back out into the main part of the store.
"Sorry about him, he was just worried about you," Edgar apologized, sitting down next to me on the bed. "It's okay…I'm sorry I scared you guys," I replied quietly. "Don't be. I understand about nightmares…I get them a lot." Edgar's voice became low, almost inaudible.
"Why?" I murmured and Edgar looked down at the floor, his face becoming the picture of remorse. "Two years ago, I killed my parents," he muttered and the blood in my veins turned to ice, my heart skipping a beat just like in my nightmare. Edgar was a murderer? I knew he was a vampire hunter, but a killer?
I sat there in silence, dumbfounded, until Edgar looked up at me and smiled wryly. "Aren't you gonna ask me why?" I blinked at him as my mind frantically screamed at me to get away from him. If he killed his parents he must be dangerous! But…he didn't feel dangerous…
"Why?" I finally croaked. Edgar sighed and looked down, tracing a scar on his hand before he began. "My parents and my brother and I were all very close. I guess it came from living in poverty for so long. You see, my mother was a maid who jumped around from job to job, while my dad worked in a lumber yard. We never had much money but we were happy.
"But then one night, when Dad was coming home for work, someone attacked him. There was a lot of blood and some people witnessed it. They told us they saw two people drag him away, so there was no body. We learned later that it was a vampire, but at the time, all we could think about was 'who could have done this?' and 'why?' My dad didn't have any enemies. About a week later, Dad came home." Edgar's eyes grew dark as I listened, riveted.
"Mom was so happy, but she was also really scared and confused because we'd all heard that Dad was supposed to be dead. She told me and Allan to get in our room and lock the door, so we headed to our room but we opened the door a crack and watched as Mom let Dad into the house.
'Honey, where have you been? What's wrong?' she asked him and Dad smiled at her. 'Nothing's wrong, honey. I just returned for my family,' he answered in a detached voice. It was if the voice didn't belong to him at all, but to some ghost controlling his body. A moment later, Dad leaped at her. She screamed and we heard sounds, like they were fighting." Edgar closed his eyes and clenched his fists, but kept talking.
"Allan and I went out into the living room and found Mom crouched under the table, holding a bloodied knife in her hands. I should've known better, but I reached out to her, meaning to help her. She cut my hand." I glanced down at the scar on Edgar's hand and then looked up to stare at him, appalled. Suddenly what my mom had done to me wasn't so bad after all…
"Afterward, Allan and I stayed away from her. We locked ourselves in our room for about a day, waiting as Mom pounded on the door, calling my name frantically. When night fell and she stopped trying to get in our room, we snuck out cautiously. She was waiting for us in the living room, just sitting there, calm, on the couch.
'Edgar, Allan, are you alright?' she asked in the same detached voice that Dad had talked in. Both of us tried to run back to our room, but Dad was there, blocking the way. His red eyes gleamed at us, and he looked hungry. No, thirsty. We were trapped."
Edgar glanced at me. He must have seen my horrified expression. "I'm sorry, I'm scaring you. You should get some more sleep-'' he began but I shook my head quickly. "No, no! Go on; I'm fine," I insisted. "If you're sure…" he trailed off uncertainly, but at my nod he went on.
"Mom grabbed me and Dad made a lunge for Allan, but Allan was able to dodge out of the way. Mom held me by the throat as I struggled to get away; I was losing air fast, and I felt like I was going to die. Her claws dug into my throat." Edgar pointed to five tiny puncture holes in his neck and my heart ached for him.
"I don't know how Allan got away from Dad, but just as I was about to lose consciousness- and probably my life- he hit Mom over the head with a frying pan. She dropped me and it took me a minute to get up after that. I gasped for breathe like a fish out of sea, but when Dad started walking toward us I snapped back into action.
'Keep him busy,' I hissed to Allan and then darted away. I heard a snarl and the ping! as Allan hit Dad with the frying pan, but I ignored it and raced into our tiny backyard where Dad kept all his wood from the lumber yard that he used as firewood. I grabbed a sharp-looking stick and raced back inside, just in time, too. Dad had cornered Allan and was swiping at him with those long claws…"
Edgar closed his eyes and pain flitted across his face. "I staked him without even thinking twice about it," he murmured and I could hear the tremor in his voice. "And then…then I staked my mom, too. There was nothing else I could do."
I could hear the tears threatening to overwhelm him but with a shaky sigh, he composed himself. "A few days after, our aunt and uncle came to get us and we started working here."
There was a long silence after that, and then I hugged him. "I'm sorry," I whispered into his ear. I could feel his sobs racking his body and I felt tears sting my eyes, too. It wasn't my story, but it sure felt like it was. We stayed like that for a long time.
R+R please! No flames.
