Chapter 7
Wednesday, December 19th, 1985
Hill Valley, California
4: 53 P. M.
Doc carefully searched the house. There was no sign of Biff anywhere. Yet he still had the sensation of being watched. "The idiot never intended to tell me anything," he grumbled to himself. "I should have listened to Marty and Mysteria." He sighed and shrugged. "Might as well leave."
He walked back to the living room, trying to spot a glimpse of whoever was watching him. But the watcher remained maddeningly out of sight. Doc took one final look around the living room and headed for the door.
Just before he reached it, he felt a hand close on his shoulder. Sharp nails dug into the flesh, causing Doc to wince slightly. "Biff? Is that you?" he asked, turning his head.
It wasn't Biff. Doc would have said it was a human being, if not for certain details. Like the fact its green eyes burned with inner fire. Or the fact it wore nothing on its pale, grimy body except a pair of tattered boxers. Or, especially, the fact that a human's canines weren't an inch long.
The thing grinned at him evilly and squeezed Doc's shoulder extremely hard. Doc let out a cry of pain as the nails bit deeper into his flesh. The thing did something that had the human equivalent of laughter. Terrified, Doc pulled free of its foul grip. The nails gouged his shoulder pretty badly, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to get away from this monster!
The thing stopped laughing and snarled. It grabbed Doc by the waist with an iron grip and slammed him to the floor. Doc lay there, completely stunned for a moment. He quickly regained his senses when the nails bit into his arm. Adrenaline kicked in, and Doc angrily bit his attacker. The thing yowled in pain, letting him go. Doc scrambled to his feet, thanking God no bones were broken. He flung himself against the door, only to find it locked.
He ran for the kitchen, hoping to find the key or a weapon. Suddenly his attacker was in front of him again, hissing like an angry cat. Doc barely had time to wonder how it had gotten ahead of him before it grabbed his arm and twisted it hard. In agony, Doc kicked his attacker. It briefly let go, allowing Doc to throw a punch at its face. It hissed again, showing off its fangs to full effect, and lunged. Doc managed to dodge and made it into the kitchen.
As it got up from its fall far too fast for a normal person, Doc yanked open a drawer and grabbed a kitchen knife. As his attacker attempted to strike at him again, Doc plunged the knife into its midsection, terror giving him the strength to kill.
The thing looked down at the knife, buried up to the handle in its stomach. It simply pulled it out and tossed it aside. There was no wound.
Doc's mind locked up. How could such a creature be? But as he wondered, the thing attacked him again, tearing his cheek with its claws. It then picked him up like he was a rag doll and threw him against the stove.
Doc yelled as the edge of the stove met the small of his back. The thing 'laughed' again as Doc slumped to the ground, his body aching horribly from its abuse. The thing causally kicked him in the solar plexus, winding him.
Struggling for breath, Doc noticed the knife within reach. Even though it had proven ineffective against his attacker, he decided it was better than nothing. He grabbed it and slashed at his attacker when it reached for him again.
He had more luck this time, cutting its palm. The thing roared and slammed its hands onto Doc's shoulders. It suddenly smiled again. Its hands slid up to Doc's throat and squeezed.
Doc tried to pull the hands off, but he wasn't strong enough. He needed air desperately, his eyes beginning to bulge out of his head. He gasped weakly, "No, please...."
Suddenly the thing let go. Doc took a deep gulp of air, wondering why his attacker had shown him some mercy. "Maybe he's tiring of playing with me," he hoped against hope.
It wasn't. It lifted him up again and threw him back into the living room. Doc landed with a sickening thud on the rug. Slowly, painfully, he lifted himself up on one arm. The thing leapt over the counter, then sprang towards the wall. Doc followed its path with his eyes, praying, "Let it die....It'll kill me if it doesn't die first....Please, let it smash its head on the wall and die...."
It didn't crash. Instead, it landed on the wall and clung to it like an evil Spider-Man. It looked down at Doc in so much pain and 'giggled'.
Doc's mind locked up again. "This isn't happening....This cannot be happening...." "Who-What are you?" he croaked.
The thing hissed again. "Sucker," it said in a cold voice.
"I was talking about you, not me."
"Sucker," it repeated in that same icy hiss. "Fresh blood for Sucker...."
"Oh, that's your name," Doc whispered, shivering. "I'm-I'm-I'm screwed." He tried to get up, to reach the door again.
Sucker pounced on him, fangs ready for the kill. Desperate to save his life, Doc wrestled his opponent for a moment. Then Sucker clamped him to the floor. It raked Doc's chest with its nails, then tore into Doc's neck.
As it sucked his blood, Doc felt an agony unmatched by any he'd felt before. Not even the fight he'd just had compared with it. It flooded his nervous system with the most excruciating pain ever known to man. And he couldn't fight it-he was mysteriously paralyzed. There was just one thing he could do.
"AAAAAAUUUUUGGGHHH!"
Doc sat up as stiff as a board, his body drenched in sweat. He looked around wildly, his breath shaky.
Marty and Lorraine rushed into the room. "Doc! Doc, are you okay? What happened?" Marty asked worriedly, sitting on the bed next to his best friend.
Doc put a hand to his forehead, still breathing heavily and shakily. He was slowly calming down, though. "I had a nightmare," he explained. "A terrible nightmare...."
'Well, you're safe and sound now," Lorraine said, patting him on the shoulder. "It was only a dream, you know."
"Yes, I know. It was just so horrible, so frightening...." Doc took a few deep breaths. "I'm-I'm better now. Damn brain waves."
"Is there anything I can get you?" Lorraine asked in a motherly way. "You haven't eaten a thing since you came here, let me remind you. Maybe that nightmare was caused by hunger."
"I've been eating, Lorraine, don't worry," Doc assured her, winking at Marty. "I don't want anything at the moment, thank you. I just want to get my thoughts together."
Lorraine looked suspicious, but nodded. "Okay. Call me or send Marty down if you need anything." She left, going back down the hall.
"You'll need to start eating larger after-school snacks," Doc sighed. "I'm not making enough of a dent in the refrigerator."
"My stomach can only hold so much, Doc," Marty warned. "Why don't you feed some lunchmeat things to Einy? He likes 'em a lot more than I do."
"Good thinking, Marty," Doc praised, making Marty grin. "Einstein would certainly appreciate the treats." He looked out the window to see his dog happily chasing squirrels while clouds gathered overhead. "He'll have to increase his speed by 3 miles per hour to catch one of those critters, though."
Marty observed Doc's damp pajamas. "How bad was that nightmare, Doc?"
"Awful," Doc shuddered. "Simply awful. I dreamt I was being attacked by-"
Suddenly, Doc went as white as his sheets. Marty felt repentant. "Geez, Doc, I'm sorry. I wouldn't want to remember a nightmare either."
"That's just it, Marty," Doc whispered. "Remembering. That nightmare wasn't a dream at all. It was a memory."
"A memory? If that's a memory, I'd wanna have amnesia."
"Precisely! Remember how I told you I couldn't recall what happened at Biff's house the night I went? Now I can. I arrived at his residence at 5: 45 P. M. exactly. There was no one to greet me, but I could feel a hidden presence observing me. I searched the house, but I couldn't find anyone. I was about to leave, when...."
Doc broke off with a shiver as images from his nightmare flashed through his mind. Marty gently prompted, "When...?"
"When this-this thing attacked me. A soulless vampire, like the ones Mysteria told us about on Monday. Sucker-that was his name. Sucker. He beat me, tried to strangle me, and then sucked my blood in the most agonizing way possible. I fainted while he was draining me and woke up around 10:00. It's a miracle I survived that long, as I was suffering from multiple lacerations to the face, shoulder, forearm, and chest, had numerous bruises, a twisted arm, trouble breathing from the strangulation and being kicked in the solar plexus, and possible spinal damage."
"Spinal damage?" Marty said, puzzled. "And lacerations are cuts, right."
"Right. I suspected damage to my spine because Sucker had thrown me against the stove, and the edge caught me in the small of the back. But, despite my injuries, I got to my feet and made it out. Mysteria found me later, hallucinating."
"And 2 hours later, you conked out," Marty finished, pale. "Jesus Christ, Doc, I told you not to go there!"
"Even I have moments of pure idiocy, Marty," Doc told him, giving him a brief squeeze. "And since my death was only temporary, things did...work...."
Doc paused once again as two scenes from his nightmare repeated themselves in his mind. "I slashed his palm...then he grabbed me by the shoulders...." "Marty, I've just realized how I became a vampire!"
"Really? How?"
"When I was defending myself against Sucker with a knife, I succeeded in cutting its palm. Moments later, it grabbed me by the shoulders, one of which had been badly gouged by its nails. Its blood must have mixed with mine, transferring the vampire virus or bacteria into my system!"
"Don't you know yet?" Marty asked in disbelief. "You've been sneaking off to that future lab every chance you get! And why weren't you scratched up when I saw you 'dead'?"
"The vampire disease is extremely hard to categorize. It shares characteristics of both bacteria and viruses. What I really need to study is a complete vampire body. In regards to your second question, beats me."
"You want to autopsy a vampire?" Marty made a face.
"Exactly. And there's no one I'd like to do it more on than Sucker." Doc's eyes glowed with rage.
"Aren't you squeamish?" Marty asked, trying to get Doc to lighten up a bit. His friend scared him when he got mad, especially with those glowing eyes.
Doc calmed down, his eyes darkening. "I'll have a bucket handy if I ever get the chance to do one. What I would like to know at this particular moment is what was a soulless vampire doing in Biff's house?"
"Maybe he snuck in," Marty suggested.
"No, he knew the layout too well. He followed me from room to room. And why didn't he attack me right away? Why did he wait until the last minute to try and kill me? Being insane and hungry, he should have tried to kill me much sooner. It was like he was under orders not to hurt me until the last second."
Marty shuddered. "That gives me the chills," he said. "I don't want them to get organized. Jenny and I heard enough horror stories of them working alone from Mystie."
"Me neither, but it might be a possibility we'll have to prepare for. Mysteria mentioned that they rare pack together, though. They enjoy killing each other as much as they enjoying killing innocent humans. Why would they suddenly form an organized group? It would take a strong but extremely dumb leader to try that."
At that exact moment, Doc had a revelation. "Great Scott!" he gasped. "Is it possible Biff Tannen perceived me as a threat to his self-organized society and asked a subordinate to terminate me on that day when I attempted to leave?"
"What's that in English, Doc?"
"I think Biff ordered a hit on me!" Doc looked at Marty with wide, frightened eyes. "I think he's the one behind the soulless vampires!"
Marty grabbed Doc's arm tightly. "Stop right there, Doc. I still want to sleep at night."
"Ignorance may be bliss, Marty, but it could also be murder."
"But why would Biff want you dead?! I know you two aren't blood brothers or anything, but why would he want to kill you?"
"I have a theory about that. His diary."
"I didn't know Biff was smart enough to write."
"Well, he can. I told you before that he left it at my place after we fought and I shut it in a drawer. Biff must have thought I read it and panicked. So he got Sucker to try and kill me. He certainly didn't seem happy to see me alive yesterday."
Marty put his head against Doc's shoulder. "Do you think he'll try again?"
Doc slid his arm around Marty's shoulders, sensing the teen needed some reassurance. "I don't know. I'll be on my guard for the next few days. You should be too, as Biff hates your father. But I promise I'll try to protect you from him."
"Thanks, Doc."
Thursday, December 19th
8: 45 P. M.
Biff angrily slapped the pale, filthy thing called Sucker. "You butt-head. The bastard's alive. What's worse, he's a vampire. Now we can't kill him."
Sucker glared back. Only a deep respect for this none too bright but violent master kept him from clawing Biff to death. That, and the fact Biff's lackeys Match, Skinhead, and 3-D were ready to haul him off to his death at the local crematorium if he so much as laid a finger on Biff. "Someone was coming. It looked dead," he hissed.
"Do you think I'm making a mountain out of an anthill?!" Biff raved, mangling metaphors as usual. "Dr. Brown knows. He knows I want to rule the world and make the rest of the humans my slaves." He smiled briefly as he had a vision of George McFly being whipped. Then he became angry again. "The guy had to be killed, and you screwed up."
"Sucker'll make it up to you," Sucker promised, still glaring.
"You'd better. Otherwise it's ashes for you." He jerked his thumb towards the door. "Now make like a tree, and get outa here."
Sucker left, taking to the sky as he did. Biff glared at his 3 gang members, who had been watching the whole thing. "Well? What are you standing around for?" he demanded. They scattered. Biff sat down in a chair, snarling. "I'll get you, Brown," he vowed.