Lost Wolf
Chapter 7
"What about Star and Laddie?"
"Star thought she wanted to be one of us." Marko waved his hand dismissively, "But she didn't, not really. She couldn't handle the lifestyle, it was literally driving her crazy. Her leaving was one of the best things to happen to us in a while. And Laddie... Dwayne was really protective of Laddie, he's good with kids. But he agreed with the rest of us that the way we live is not something a kid should be involved in. So when Star left to go live with Michael's family and took Laddie, we were relieved. He wasn't a member or anything, Dwayne found him sleeping in an alley behind a dumpster and couldn't just leave him there. And we figured being with us would be better than the CPS, so we kept him until he found something better."
"You should have informed Child Protect-"
"I should be at home with my family right now. They should have been alive to see me grow up." For the first time, the Detective saw a true spark of anger in Alex's eyes, "All of those kids living and dying on the streets who should be home with loving families to take care of them. What should be is a far cry from what is. Had I died eight years ago, no one would have known who I was. No one would have mourned me. No one would have cared. I get that CPS have good people and good intentions, but where were they when I needed help and protection? In fact, it may be better that they didn't find me. If we gave Laddie to the CPS, do you know what they would have done? They would have pushed him from foster home to foster home until he aged out of the system and was kicked back into the streets. Laddie is 10, the same age I was, do you know how much can happen before he turns 18? How many of those homes would be abusive? How many would just take the check and neglect the kid? The Boys, especially Dwayne and Star, cared for Laddie, protected him, made sure he was fed and clothed and felt like a member of the family. He is family, even now. They did the same for me, they gave me food, shelter, friendship, Pack. We protect each other, they may look like thugs and criminals, and maybe they are, but they took better care of me, cared for me, more than anyone else since my parents died." He wrapped an arm around Marko's shoulder, "This is my brother. I have four more. They saved me when society left me to starve. This is my family."
There was silence for a moment. The Detective didn't know what to say as Marko gave a proud grin and pulled his 'brother' closer.
"One big happy family."
The Detective finally regained his bearings, "Alright. Can you tell me about Star, what your relationship was like?"
Marko just shrugged, "She hated me. Not as much as she hated David, though. As you can imagine, we didn't have much of a relationship."
"Alex?"
"We we're... Acquaintances. We know each other, we would talk about all sorts of things, and sometimes I'd help with Laddie, teaching him about old machines I'd found and was working on. I like fixing things, I just finished that clock." He pointed to an antique clock sitting on the mantle over a large fireplace. "It actually works, but the ticking upsets Paul, so I don't run it. As for Star, she thinks I'm brainwashed, but I think we get along pretty well, otherwise. She's a good person who would never intentionally hurt someone, except maybe David"
"Miss. Martinez said that David 'took' Michael Emerson, and that she hated him for it. She said she hated all of you for it. Except you, Alex."
Both boys looked at him in confusion, but it was Marko who spoke, "Miss. Martinez?"
"Star." The Detective clarified.
"She never told us her full name..." Alex seemed almost ashamed not to have known the girl's name. She'd been with them for some time, but he'd never asked. Among the boys, though, last names were rarely, if ever, mentioned. Even some first names were mysteries, for instance 'Marko' was an alias, he wouldn't give his birth name to anyone, not even his brothers.
The Detective broke his reverie, "How did David 'take' Michael?"
"He brought him into the group," Marko replied smoothly, "Michael was nervous at first, he'd never done anything really rebellious in his life, but he warmed up to us real quickly. And," He tapped his hairless chin with his forefinger, "Michael and Star were lovers. When Star and Laddie left, Michael chose the boys over her. It's only natural that she'd think David and the rest of us stole him from her."
"Why did he choose The Lost Boys over his lover?"
Alex was brushing back his hair again. He really needed to control his tells better.
Again it was Marko who replied, "He liked the lifestyle, the freedom. She couldn't stand it. It would never have worked between them. They wanted different things in life."
"It was sad." Alex picked up where Marko left off, "But inevitable. They were pulled in different directions. Something had to give."
"Alright," The Detective moved on to the next question, "Where is Maxwell Ward?"
They both spoke at the same time.
Alex, "I have no idea."
Marco, "Hell."
"What?" The Detective couldn't believe his ears, was Marko saying that Max was dead?
"Well, I figure that's where he's going. I figure I'll go there too, one day." Marko said casually, "Like they say, Heaven for the Climate, Hell for the Company."
"Let me get this straight, are you saying that Maxwell Ward is dead?"
"People who disappear in this town tend to turn up dead, if they turn up at all." Marko grinned, and the Detective was beginning to dislike that grin more and more, "But, sadly, he just went on vacation. Brazil, I think. Wanted to see the Mayan ruins, he's a big history buff. Dwayne would have loved to go, but he had to stay and take care of the bills and stuff."
"And if I go to the airport, and check-"
"You'll see that he cashed... Is it cashed in? Whatever, used his ticket, and took off for South America."
Indeed he had, the tall man wearing Maxwell Ward's clothes and thick eyeglasses (his spares), and carrying his passport (he'd been a bit sick since that picture was taken, lost some weight) had gotten a one way ticket to Brazil. Of course, he was actually a homeless guy who looked a bit like Max and was convinced that a trip to Rio would do wonders for his health.
"When will he be coming back?" It was clear that the boys, Marko and the unseen Paul, at least, had no qualms about dirtying the pristine rug, or switching out furniture, so they obviously didn't fear him coming home to the mess.
"He's not." Marko shrugged, "Mid-life crisis. And he was all set to marry that nice Emerson lady. Don't worry about Max, though, he had quite a bit of money transferred to new accounts. But that's Dwayne's department. He's handling the money."
"So you said before." The Detective didn't like how chipper, how casual Marko was about being a murder suspect, "And how do I get into contact with Dwayne?"
"Just leave a number. We don't have phones at our hideou-Where we stay, but there are plenty of payphones on the Boardwalk. When Paul's at the Boardwalk next time, he'll give Dwayne your number. That will probably be tomorrow night."
"And when is Paul coming back?"
"Hopefully soon. He doesn't like dealing with cops."
"Why not?"
"Most people don't. It's just a thing, you know? People just don't hang around with cops unless they have to." He gave a condescending smirk. The Detective really didn't like this kid.
"Why not just have Dwayne come here, or to another location if he doesn't feel it's safe, and I can talk to him in person?" The Detective suggested, "After all, I'm sure most of Mr. Ward's financial documents are here."
"I hadn't thought about it. You can talk to Dwayne about it when he calls you."
He turned to Alex, who had been quiet in this discussion, "Earlier you stated that Max didn't like you. Do you know why?"
"He saw me as a flea-ridden street mutt, not fit to socialize with his boys. Just some grubby, good for nothing kid." The boy pushed strands of his brown hair away from his eyes, which were soft again, if a bit pained, "As far as I know, that's it. Unless he just hated people with Nordic last names."
This time it was Marko whose eyes flashed with anger, "You protect us while we sleep, give up so much time for us, hell, you saved my life, maybe all of our lives. Max is an idiot for not seeing how important you are to us. You've been with us for eight years, dude. If we didn't think you were worth it, would we have kept you around?"
The Detective watched this exchange with interest. Marko, despite, or, perhaps, because of, his angelic face, terrified him. He'd faced hardened criminals, murderers, and none of them set off his alarms like this seemingly harmless boy. His smiles were malicious, his smirks cruel. He looked like he knew a secret that could save or destroy the world, and he wasn't going to tell anyone. His brown eyes were alight with something that unnerved the Detective, though he couldn't say exactly what. He moved like a predator, and had very clearly defined muscles beneath his crop-top. An Angel's face on a little Devil. But at this moment the darkness around him faded, leaving him just a boy consoling a friend.
He decided not to interrupt the moment.
A few moments later both were ready to answer questions again, but Alex looked tired. It was probably hard getting to sleep with the knowledge that a possible serial killer wanted you and your friend dead, and the police suspected that you might have been involved in the disappearance of said serial killer.
"When was the last time you saw Mr. Ward, Alex?"
"Four nights ago. I was taking care of Sam Emerson after his friends stranded him at one of our places. All the boys were there. Max came in, told us he was going to propose to Miss. Emerson, totally ignored the fact that Marko had almost been murdered a few hours before by the Frog brothers, and told the boys to show up at 10:00 sharp. Then he walked away."
"Did you go?"
"I had to, I was the only one able to carry Sam home. He rode in my sidecar. We, Sam and I, pulled up onto his street and saw his Grampa's truck buried halfway in his house. Since his entire family was in there, he rushed in."
"Did you go in?"
"No. I should have, to see if I could help, but I didn't think I'd be welcome. You see, the friends who abandoned Sam with us were the Frog brothers. He was with them when they tried to kill Marko. He tried to stop them, but they wouldn't listen. When Thorn and I startled them, they ran off and left Sam behind. So he was stuck at our place, having been with the people who tried to kill my best friend. I had to watch him, since the boys were busy blocking up any ways the Frogs could get back in. it was too far to walk home and we figured someone would be back for him. Nobody came." He frowned, "Not even Michael came to 'save' his little brother. We talked and joked around and had fun, and I was going to drop him off and leave, because Max didn't want me there. But with the accident, I knew the police would come, and I was afraid that the Frogs might have convinced Miss. Emerson that I'd kidnapped her son. I was scared, and I ran before the police got there."
"Well, if it puts your mind at ease, they didn't accuse you of kidnapping. In fact, they were worried that something might have happened to you."
Alex gave a bright smile, apparently not used to having other people care about him.
"You should call them, let them know you're okay."
"Of course. I will! Just as soon as I can!"
"Now, back to that night, where were The Lost Boys when you arrived at the Emerson house?"
" They arrived right after Sam and me. They had the same idea I had, but they hung back out of sight. They were still there when I left." He looked at Marko, who nodded in agreement.
"We hung back until the cops and ambulances and everything left, we knew Max was supposed to be there, and we didn't see him get loaded into any of the ambulances. So went to see where he was. If you talked to Star, then you know that we didn't receive a warm welcome, and the Frog brothers were there too." He snickered a bit, "They attacked us with crosses and holy water spray guns, Michael punched David a few times for 'kidnapping' Sam... It was ridiculous. We left to avoid a bigger fight. It wouldn't look good to get arrested for fighting kids... The next night Michael came in and told us Max had beat it. His mom had wanted more time, then the truck came in, I guess he figured it was some kind of Divine Message that it wasn't meant to be. He came by, told us he was leaving for Brazil, told Dwayne to get with the lawyers and run things and then he was gone with the wind."
"Why did Michael come back?"
"He couldn't stay away. The lifestyle just... Called to him. He was still angry at David, though. Haven't been around him much since then, being in hiding and all, but I hear they made up and he's now fully a Lost Boy." Another grin.
The Detective had the unnerving image of the Joker pop into his head. And the Cheshire Cat. All melded together like The Thing at the end of the movie. We're all mad here certainly seemed to fit the situation. He still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong about this boy, something evil... And there was something else as well, "Alex, you said The Lost Boys took you in eight years ago?"
"Yes."
"How old were they then? Marko couldn't have been more than 14 himself, David and Paul seem even younger. Dwayne might have been around 16 or 17..."
Marko began chewing his thumbnail, "We're just a bit older than that. Paul is the youngest, he was around, what, 13, 14?"
"People in town say that you boys have been around since at least the 1960's, and haven't aged a day."
Marko laughed, "Did they tell you that some of the old timers say that David and Dwayne were around when the Great Earthquake hit in 1908? Or that I came to town around the same time as the Spanish Influenza? That was what, 1918? Or that Paul was in his early 20's in the 1960's? And that none of us have aged since? You know, some of the really old geezers call us 'The Four Horsemen'... I wonder which one I am?"
"War. With your temper, you're definitely The Horseman of War." Alex seemed to play along, "Or maybe Famine, since you eat so much..."
"What, I'm a growing boy! I need to eat a lot!"
"Well, it's Five Horsemen now." The Detective was getting a bit annoyed, "And if you rode into town during the 1918 Spanish Influenza, you'd be The Horseman of Pestilence."
"Pestilence was not a Horseman, but a weapon of Death." Alex corrected him.
"I don't care. We have serious matters to discuss. Do you have any idea why people seem to think that You, David, Dwayne and Paul have always been here?"
"We're a local legend. Before us there was another group of four, and they did go by The Four Horseman. They were around from around the end of World War II to the early '60's. Vets who couldn't really adjust to civilian life after all the terrible things they'd been through. So they started a Biker Club. Alex's bike was made from parts scavenged from a couple of their old choppers that had been dumped in the scrap yard. Of course, some of it had to be custom made. But, anyway, a lot of older people get us confused with them, and tell their kids that we are them... And Voila, immortal Vampire bikers from hell. We don't bother to correct them, makes us more mysterious, more frightening."
You're already terrifying, Marko. The Detective thought to himself, I could almost believe you were a Vampire myself...
Alex was easier to deal with, but he seemed a little too... Submissive. the Renfield to Marko's Dracula, or Nock to Count Orlok. Vampire metaphors aren't helping the situation. But it's not just to Marko, but to The Detective as well. He wagered the boy acted like this with everyone. It was as if he were missing something inside of himself. He lacked the evident cruelty Marko radiated, but his eyes told tales of horrors witnessed, and his aspect was one of a man who had given up. As if life had defeated him, and he was tired of trying to hold back the darkness. His candle had gone out, and he hadn't even the will to curse the darkness. Yet he clung on to anyone who showed him kindness or gave him a sense of self-worth, even if that someone was an awful person. He wanted his life to be better, but believed that it was pointless to try, as he'd only be beaten down again. His mechanical skills and personable manner could get him a good job, but he chose to stay with his dangerous 'family'.
Could this be less of a gang, and more of a cult? Is that why it was so hard for people to leave? They had mentioned Divine Messages, Heaven, hell and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, even pointing out that Pestilence was not a Horseman... Could Maxwell Ward have been leading a cult?
Marko started snickering again, and Alex turned to him in confusion.
"It's nothing, I just had a funny thought. I'll tell you about it later."
Eventually, with more questions, and more roundabout answers, about the Not-So-Good Doctor, Max, Star, Dwayne, and a few other items the Detective made his exit. Marko felt a cold shiver run through him, not knowing that the man had made the Sign of The Cross as he left the house, feeling compelled to cleanse himself of evil.
"Let's hope this all holds up."
Marko favored his friend with a sly grin, "You realize what will happen when they put you in the system."
"Yay, Taxes." Alex deadpanned.
"I thought that guy would never leave," Paul came in from the back, naked and soaking wet, "I like the pool, but I don't want to stay there all night."
"Why are you naked?"
"I jumped into the pool to get the blood off my clothes, and I didn't want to walk around in wet clothes." He grabbed a blanket from a nearby armchair and began drying himself off. "It's not comfortable."
Marko laughed, "How long were you out there?"
"Time is an artificial construct designed to force us to conform to social norms regarding sleep/waking cycles and keep us slaves to the system." Paul smiled broadly and fell back into the cushy armchair, "Somewhere around Alex telling you that you eat like a pig."
Marko's cheerful façade vanished in an instant. "I'd beat you up right now, but you're naked and it would look wrong."
"I said he eats a lot, not that he eats like a pig."
Marko growled, "I almost starved to death several times as a human, and I don't want to go hungry again. I eat when I can, because I don't know when the next meal will be. None of us do, really."
Neither Paul nor Alex had been aware of that fact, but it made perfect sense. Some people who have gone hungry like that tend to hoard food, out of fear that they might not be able to get more. And a predator never knows whether the hunt will be successful or they'll go to sleep hungry.
"So," Alex tried to lighten the mood, "What was so funny that you couldn't tell me?"
The smiling mask slipped back on as if it had never fallen, "He thought Max was running a cult! We're all brainwashed cultists."
All three began to laugh at the idea.
Paul suddenly snapped his fingers, an idea in his head, "Hey, we really could do that! Vampires are getting pretty popular, and there are all those crazies-"
"No." Marko shook his head, he outranked Paul, barely, "I don't want to spend all my time around weird girls with names like Chastity Serenity Prudence Morticia August Venus' Fly-Trap."
Alex shuddered slightly, "Or Wolfsbane."
"Definitely nobody named Wolfsbane." Marko agreed.
"Aw, but it could work. And we wouldn't have to be around them, we could be the mysterious Masters of Vampirism and have an Inner Sanctum, a Sanctum Sanctorum where no one but us could go." Paul argued. "We could even claim to be in touch with the dead, since, we're, ya' know, dead. I don't know where Alex would fit in, maybe our prophet or high priest-"
"No." This time it was Alex speaking, disgust mixing with anger, "I'm willing to lie for you, even to kill for you. if I have to, but I'm not going to deceive desperate people by pretending to be Divinely, or Infernally, inspired. Playing with people's emotions is bad enough, playing with their souls is something I cannot do."
Alex rarely outright refused to even consider something the boys proposed, but when he did he wouldn't budge an inch.
It sounded good, in theory. Good being relative, of course. Vampires set themselves up as mysterious and powerful beings in touch with their Inner Darkness and The Great Beyond and draw all the wannabe-be Vampires, New Age yuppies and bored housewives who're tired of playing with their Ouija Boards. An all-you-can-eat buffet delivered right to their doorstep. Easy, right? In reality they'd do just as well staking themselves. People talk, and people talking is both a good (relatively speaking) and a bad (Ditto) thing for a cult. They would need to get word of their cult out to prospective 'recruits' without their existence coming to the ears of law enforcement, angry parents, jealous husbands or, worst of all, rival religious groups. Plus, killing members of their own flock would have to be handled delicately, maybe under the guise of some transcendent ascension or unholy sacrament. Eventually they'd run out of people willing to sacrifice themselves. It would be, at best, a short term con, and an incredibly risky one at that. They could use the cultists to draw in victims, however, sacrificing unbelievers...
"Still, it could work." Paul huffed, crossing his arms like a pouting child. "And it's not like we're not going to hell anyway."
XXXX
They were casually strolling down the beach when Michael asked The Question, "What happens if you pick someone and they have AIDS?"
David and Dwayne both looked up at The Question. AIDS seemed to be everywhere, and, despite popular belief, it wasn't just gay men who were dying. People were terrified, it was like the new version of nuclear radiation, everywhere, unseen but lethal.
"We can smell sickness. You'll understand the first time you come across someone who's sick with just about anything. AIDS, Cancer, Diabetes, hell, I've even smelled poison on occasion... It's all in the scent." Dwayne explained, "When you get bad blood, really bad blood, that even our digestive systems can't handle your body will purge it. And it's just as disgusting as it sounds. Happened to Paul once... None of us want to see that again."
"It's really, really rare for a disease, even a blood disease, to affect a Vampire. The worst thing I can imagine happening is getting irradiated blood. You can't just purge that. I don't know if radiation would affect us or not, but I'd rather not be glowing in the dark for thirty thousand years." David stopped and looked out over the water, "You'll recognize the scents of disease as soon as you encounter them, each disease is different, but you can tell that something's wrong."
"That's good... That's something I've worried about, y'know. I think everyone has." Michael shifted uncomfortably, scuffing his boots in the sand, "Can you smell if someone's had Chemo?"
"Yeah, it's pretty distinct. You can usually just tell by looking at them, though... But, like I said, don't worry about it. The only reason Paul got sick was because he was so wasted he didn't notice the scent. He doesn't get high before a hunt anymore, I can tell you that." David reassured him. It was odd to think of David of all people being comforting, but they were brothers now. It wasn't like what he'd had with Sam, he could actually feel them, their joy, pain or hunger, he could see into their minds, if they allowed it. he still felt something for Sam, and his mother, but it wasn't like it had been before. The love wasn't as strong, the sense of family had shifted to the Pack. It was like a dream. He wasn't Michael Emerson anymore, even if he carried his memories.
He remembered Michael Emerson's thoughts about Marko, about the real Marko, whoever he was before, being long dead and how that fate would befall himself soon enough. He'd been right, of course. His mortal life was now the equivalent of an old, discarded pair of jeans, just as the mortal had feared. He was lucky, though. Marko and Paul were trapped with memories of terrible cruelty and abuse they'd suffered, but Michael Emerson had led a relatively charmed life, a popular jock, getting all the girls and having lots of friends. His dad had been a bastard, but not abusive. He'd thought it was the end of the world when he'd been forced away from everything he knew and thrown into small town hell, but he hadn't really suffered. He could easily guess what had happened to Marko, small, pretty and lacking the strength to defend himself as a mortal, he'd have been easy prey for human predators. Likely including his father, if Sam's description of his breakdown had been correct. He certainly wasn't going to ask. You don't ask a Vampire about their past, especially what kind of abuse they suffered. They'll either tell you things about their life, or they won't. Paul... Paul was hard to figure out, being blitzed so much of the time, but whatever it was was bad enough to drive him to pharmaceutical relief to ease the pain. Dwayne's hatred of prejudice, and generally dim view of society in general, pretty much spoke for itself regarding his former existence. He'd suffered because of his race, and had never forgotten, or forgiven, that fact. He didn't dare even think of what David's life was like, you don't go prying into the affairs of your Sire, especially when you are a Neonate and the lowest member in the Pack hierarchy. He was smart, manipulative and utterly ruthless, like Marko, but without the playful façade. He could picture him in The Old West, maybe a gunfighter, a cowboy, or even a soldier. He could see him atop a charging horse in full uniform, leading men into battle, sabre bared and raised to strike. Like a young John Wayne, but the real deal. He couldn't imagine, and didn't care, about Max's past.
It wasn't any of his business, anyway. Michael Emerson was dead, whoever Marko, Paul, Dwayne and David had been were dead. Hopefully they were at peace. Still it would be interesting to hear stories about The Old West from someone who had actually been there. Maybe David had been in The Civil War? Or even The Revolutionary War. How many famous historical people had the four of them seen? It was funny, Michael Emerson had never had the desire to sit down and listen to what Grampa had lived through, or his dad's parents, or any other old people. But the boys were young, while still being old. Able to hold his attention while also telling him about the past. And David and Dwayne were older than any human alive, Marko was probably pretty close. Paul was about his mother's age, a little older. He'd heard a lot about protests, sit-ins, Woodstock and all that hippie stuff. He couldn't help laughing at the idea of Paul in a tie-dye shirt and bellbottoms, handing out beads and flowers and talking about peace and love.
"What's so funny?"
"I was thinking of Paul."
"Yeah, he's a funny one."
"No, I mean I was trying to picture Paul in the '60's... Was he a hippie? All peace and love and flowers?"
Both older Vampires laughed at the picture, but, sadly, the truth was much darker.
"No. No he wasn't a hippie, though he was into the whole 'expanding your consciousness through psychedelics' thing." Dwayne frowned, "I can't tell you his life story, only he can do that, if he wants. But I can tell you that he ran into Marko in Haight-Ashbury, and they got along like a house on fire... Actually, they've left a number of houses on fire, but that's beside the point. We all took to him quickly, except Max, of course, but he let us keep him."
David grinned, "Even Max started to like him, after a while. He's a real charmer, Paul. He's also a lot smarter than he acts. People tend to underestimate him, just like with Marko, and that's exactly how he likes it."
Dwayne shook his head sadly, "God, Alex must be going insane between the police and those two..."
"Alex is already insane, just in a different way... But, yeah, I wouldn't want to be trapped in a house with one of those Gremlins, let alone two." They were at the cave/hotel now, and Thorn was rushing out to meet them. "Let's enjoy the peace and quiet while we can, Dwayne and I have a bet as to which of them you'll try to kill first. My money's on Marko."
"Marko is a nuisance, but Paul has no respect for boundaries and doesn't know when to shut up, among other things. You'll definitely try to kill Paul."
"Maybe I'll kill them both?"
"In that case, first death wins. I say Paul goes down first, Marko is a monster when he fights."
"I don't usually bet against something so obvious, but someone has to or there's no bet..."
Michael smiled, "Maybe I'll kill Marko first just to prove you both wrong."
"More likely Marko will kill you. You've seen him fight, you've seen him feed. Do you really want to fight that?"
"Stop trying to influence his decision, Dwayne."
"What if I go crazy on Paul first, but then kill Marko before finishing off Paul?"
"Easy, Dwayne wins the first bet, I win the second. That sound okay to you?"
"Works for me."
To be continued...
XXXX
Notes:
The Detective didn't notice Alex reference to The Lost Boys as Pack. He was too surprised by the whole speech. Had he not been, he would have questioned it.
If there was a Horseman of Pestilence, among The Lost Boys It would be David. He's the one spreading Vampirism even when he's using Max's blood. I'm not counting Max as a Lost Boy, but out of all the Vampires in the film, he would be Pestilence. He's the Master and the Source of all of the Vampires we see in the movie.
Marko's real name is [Redacted]. I'm working on a one-shot about Marko being found/turned/Embraced in 1918, I just don't know how much I want to write about his awful father in the story. In this story, Marko is 99 years old, he was born in 1888, and turned in 1918. Yes, that is 100 years, not 99, but he was born in a later month of the year than the time this story is set.
Renfield is, of course, Dracula's ghoul, his mental slave, R.M. Renfield. He eventually defies Dracula to save Mina and is killed by him. In the book, anyway.
Herr Nock was a Nock-Off of Renfield in the 1922 movie Nosferatu. He seem to be far more of a loyal servant to Graf Orlok, the Nosferatu. When Orlok dies he collapses in grief, or dies, I'm not sure which, but I think it's just grief.
Both are completely insane.
Quoth the Nogitsune - Every Dracula needs his Renfield.
Should I be afraid that I can lay out the pros and cons of a starting a Vampire Cult in a matter of minutes?
My grandparents were foster parents, they loved the children who were sent to them, but they could never stay, either being sent to another home or back to their unfit parents. I have nothing against the good people who open their homes to foster children, but those who abuse that trust, they aren't worth a bullet. CPS is well-intentioned, but it can't work, because we're all imperfect, and even the best of us make mistakes. One misplaced file, one missed visit from the people supposed to make sure the children are okay, one judge sending a child back to an abusive parent, bouncing children like ping-pong balls from foster home to foster home... And not enough adults who actually care. I'm not against CPS, I'm just realistic.
AIDS - Auto Immune Deficiency Syndrome. In the 1980's, when I was growing up, it was the most terrifying thing out there, and there was no way to treat it. It was an automatic death sentence, and a very slow death at that. And many good, upright people, in their infinite wisdom, thought that it only affected gay men, so anyone with AIDS was automatically shunned as both contagious and gay. Even children who were infected by blood transfusions or rape were treated horribly. Gay rights as we know them today were pretty much non-existent, and tolerance was almost unheard of. People with AIDS were shunned, driven from their homes, a few were even murdered. I've heard it said that there is nothing more dangerous than a frightened human being, and it's true. Now there are drugs that can keep the symptoms at bay and shore up your immune system, allowing people to live fairly normal lives but it can't actually cure it.
CPS - Child Protective Services