Synopsis: Willie runs afoul of the other members of the Old House. Let the games begin, and may the best hellhound win.
Willie woke up lying on one of the examination tables, unable to move. He had been tightly strapped into a straightjacket that was fastened to loops on the sides of the slab. Why the hell did Dr. Hoffman have a straightjacket here? Did she pull it out of that black medical bag of hers like some sort of demented Mary Poppins?
His vision, so finely tuned of late, was now blurred, and his head felt fuzzy. Julia had undoubtedly administered a sedative, which she was known to do at the slightest inducement. The young man struggled to recall how he got in this situation, but the details became diluted as he drifted in a dreamlike state.
Turning his head to the window, Willie saw a faint glimmer of light peek though the drapes, indicating daylight hours. He turned away, hoping the light would not travel across the room to him as the day progressed. He saw strange hallucinogenic shadows dancing on the wall as he drifted back to sleep.
Willie next awoke to see the back of Dr. Hoffman. She was across the room, bent over someone he assumed was Barnabas, but he couldn't see what they were doing. The young man raised his legs and brought his feet down on the table with a bang, thus commanding the attention of the others in the room.
"And how is our patient today?" Julia crossed to him and smiled pleasantly. "You had us worried for a while. I'm sorry I had to subdue you, Willie, but you were presenting a danger to Barnabas and yourself." Out came another tube of her damn ointment, which she applied to the burn on his cheek. It was already beginning to fade.
"Lemme outta here."
"I'm afraid I can't do that. You're very sick." She brushed the hair away from his eyes with apparent affection.
"Whadda ya talkin' about?"
"Oh, dear boy, don't you remember? You came home claiming that you had died and come back to life as a vampire. You must admit that sounds a little crazy."
"But I did. Ya know I did." Willie stared in disbelief.
The doctor adopted a warning tone. "If you continue to talk that way, we will have no choice but to commit you to Wyndcliffe as a mental patient."
Willie was speechless. He strained his neck to see his boss sitting by the window. "Barnabas. Help me."
"We're trying to help you, Willie," the older man replied, looking rather uncomfortable. "We want you to get well."
"There's nothin' wrong with me—except that I'm dead! You two are tryin' to gaslight me!" The young vampire tugged and pulled against the cloth restraints but was unable to gain any leverage.
Julia returned to his side with the medallion dangling from her hand.
"Oh no, I'm not doin' that again." He kicked the doctor away with a well aimed thrust to the abdomen and proceeded to bang his feet noisily on the stainless steel slab. "Liar . . . slanderer . . . traitor!"
"Restrain him!" Julia snarled, her bedside manner gone as she clutched her solar plexus. Barnabas rose and bellowed out the door for Harry, who entered the room a few minutes later with a length of sisal 3-strand rope.
He happily followed orders to bind the patient's ankles each to a table leg, rendering him, from the neck down, completely immobile. Willie knew it was pointless to continue yelling and struggling, but did it anyway just to piss off everybody by the only means available to him. When Willie had sufficiently exhausted himself (and that took a lot longer than the others would have wished), Julia tucked down his jeans and injected another, stronger sedative in his hip.
When next Willie awoke, Barnabas was standing behind him, holding the sides of his head. There was a sharp pain in his neck.
"Be still," the older man said softly. "It is imperative that you do not move."
"Whas goin' on?" Willie whispered drowsily.
"Young Johnson has volunteered to give you a blood transfusion. The doctor had to run the intravenous insert into your neck. You mustn't dislodge the needle."
"It hurts. Why can't I just drink it?"
"It's part of the experiment, remember?"
"I thought ya said that was all in my magic nation…im—ag—ination." He corrected himself with slurring syllables.
"Just lie quietly now."
"Barn'bas?"
"Yes?"
"I'm scared. I don't wanna die. Not again."
"You will be fine. Everything is for the best."
"In this best of all possible worlds."
Willie was alone in the dark, awake and lucid. He heard the door open, the generator crank up and the overhead lights flip on with blinding intensity. Harry stood over him with a tray in his hands and a sadistic grin on his face.
"Nobody wants to eat alone. I thought you could keep me company."
"That's why I'm here, to keep you entertained," Willie replied.
Harry set the tray on a rolling table and pulled that, along with a high stool, to the patient's tableside.
"Actually this may be for you, but I can't figure out what you want now, people food—" he indicated a Styrofoam container, "—or vampire food."
Willie could smell chicken and French fries. He could also smell human blood, which was stored in a plastic pouch with hospital markings.
"Well, if you're not hungry, I am," Harry concluded from the other man's lack of response. He picked up a chicken leg. "Sure you won't try some? It's yummy." The new servant stuck it in Willie's face, leaving a smear of grease on his cheek, before devouring it himself.
"Tell you what, we'll share the fries. One for you—" Harry flicked one at Willie's head. "—One for me." He popped it in his mouth. "One for you—one for me—one for you—"
Willie lay on the table in miserable silence. Harry, who looked like he was hoping for more of a response from the young man, picked up the blood container.
"Maybe this is what you want, huh? Little vampire? I could pour it in your mouth." Willie tried to conceal the emotion on his face. "But that wouldn't help you get human, would it? And that's what we're tryin' to do here. Ya know what? Why should you have all the fun? I better drink this too." He downed the contents. Willie found the sight of a human drinking blood oddly disturbing, but suppressed any reaction.
"Didn't ya hear?" He remarked casually. "It's all in my mind. There are no vampires."
"Bullshit," Harry laughed rudely. "You loony. Barnabas sure was lucky I came along to replace ya."
"I bet ya make him a fine bitch." Willie smiled back.
Harry climbed up on the table and cuffed him across the face until his hand got too sore. "You don't talk disrespectful, not when I'm here and you're there, or you'll end up bein' my bitch, understand?" When Willie didn't respond, he grabbed the young man's hair and bobbed his head up and down. "Good."
The new servant walked away, looking about the laboratory. "It's so dreary in here, don't you think? We need more light." He drew back the drapes, letting sunshine spill in through the window and across the floor. Willie hollered and whipped his head to the other side. The direct light did not hit the examination table, but it was very close.
"I'm just tryin' to help you out here, buddy, and you are not cooperatin'." Harry tsked. "You're never gonna get better till you stop doin' these vampire things."
"Close 'em! You're gonna kill me!" Willie continued to yell frantically.
"Oh my, I thought this would happen, so I came prepared." Harry pulled a piece of duct tape off the roll on his tray and put it over Willie's mouth. "That's better." He walked around to the back of the table. "Ya know, I was thinkin', drinkin' that regular blood's not gonna do any good; if I want some of them special powers, it's gotta be vampire blood…like yours." The servant smiled crookedly. "So, do ya mind helpin' me out?" He leaned in to the prisoner's face. "Sorry, I didn't hear ya…Oh, you will?" He roughly pinched Willie's cheek. "You're a pal."
Harry pushed the vampire's head to one side, made a small incision on the patient's neck with one of the doctor's scalpels and sucked blood from the wound. The younger man squeezed his eyes shut in disgust. Willie felt helpless and ashamed, but vampires had no tears to shed, so he imagined himself somewhere else, somewhere pleasant, like on Widow's Hill, tossing this guy off the cliff.
When he had had his fill, Harry took his tray, flipped off the lights and abandoned the vampire to face the approaching sunlight. Willie realized that his heart must have repaired itself because he could feel it pounding in his chest.