Leroy Jethro Gibbs: Vampire Hunter

Written for the NFA Supernatural Challenge and Death Fic Challenge

Chapter 2 of 6

Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing, yadda, yadda; see previous chapter.

Part I - Boy

This is the journal of Leroy Jethro Gibbs

I was 10 years old the first time I came face to face with a vampire, and only dumb luck allowed me to survive to write this. It was late summer and I was with my best friend, Joe. We had been out at the lake with Joe's older brother, Brian, and we stayed too long, so in order to make it home before curfew we all decided to take a short cut through the old Parker place. Stupid thing to do, we knew, but we were more worried about the tanning we'd get if we got home after dark. Stupid, because the place had a really bad reputation; over the years quite a few people who went missing in town were last seen there. There were rumors that it was haunted, or some monster lived there, crap like that. Most thought it was just a coincidence. I don't believe in coincidences, but then again, most people don't believe in vampires.

The Parker place had been abandoned for years and looked it: overgrown grass, fallen trees, broken fences, and the windows of the house were either broken or boarded up. Scary place for a couple of ten-year olds, and Brian made fun of us for most of the trip. We had just made it to the last stretch of woods before the road to town when we all heard a scream coming from the house. We ran. Joe was fastest and soon left Brian (who had never been much of a runner) and me behind. I was a few yards ahead of Brian when I heard another scream, this time a lot closer. I figured he was just trying to scare me so I kept running and I was about 100 yards from the road when something hit me. I hit the ground and rolled over, just in time to be grabbed and pulled to my feet. I expected it to be Brian. It wasn't.

Even now, almost 8 years later, I can still remember everything I saw. This thing, for it definitely wasn't human, was staring at me with eyes that looked like big black marbles. Its skin was white with thin blue lines under the surface, and worst of all, it had fangs. They must have been two inches long and they were dripping red…blood. I had a pretty good idea what had happened to Brian.

I stared back and reached for the knife I had in a sheath clipped to my belt. It was a small Bowie knife that my grandfather had given me the year before, a few weeks before he died. He had carried it through two wars and told me to make sure I always had it with me. Good advice.

As the thing (which I later learned was, in fact, a vampire) reached up to touch my face, I pulled out the knife and stuck it in the creature's chest as hard as I could and then pulled back, taking my knife with me. It howled and swiped at me with its claws, missing me by a hair. I slashed at it with the knife which caused it to fall back and as I turned to run I registered that this thing wasn't very big. In fact, it was my size, a kid. I didn't take time to think about that and ran as fast as I could. I reached the road and turned back to look, feeling a bit like Lot's wife. Nothing had followed me and when I turned back I was face to face with Joe. He was damn lucky I didn't stab him, too.

"Where's Brian?" he asked, almost as terrified as me. I couldn't answer and he tried to ask again as I started to run towards town as fast as I could. He eventually caught up with me.

"L.J., what happened?"

I just ran.

We reached the town and went straight to the Sheriff's office. The Sheriff was a no-nonsense guy, a friend of my Dad's, and he was the first person we saw. Joe started to tell him about the screams, and I don't think it hit him until that moment that something bad had happened to his brother. He just stopped talking and stared at me until I could finally continue the story. I told the Sheriff that something had happened to Brian when we were cutting through the old Parker place. He just shook his head.

"You know you boys are supposed to stay away from there. Place isn't safe." He had no idea.

"We were trying to get home before curfew," Joe said. "You know how my dad gets when we're late."

The Sheriff just nodded. Everyone in town knew about Joe's dad.

"OK, fine. But what happened? Did Brian hurt himself? Is he still out there?"

I told him I hadn't seen what happened to Brian. Well, it was the truth. Then I told him that something had tried to get me, too.

"Something? What do you mean, Leroy?"

Somehow I knew right then that he'd never believe me. I had to think up a story quick, and say enough so it sounded like it really happened. People are more likely to believe a lie that's specific.

"It was a man. He had dark eyes and long messy hair, and he looked really crazy. I think he was on drugs. He tried to grab me and knocked me down, but I pulled out my knife and cut him and he ran off." I showed the Sheriff my knife, which still had a little blood on it. "I think he got Brian instead. I don't think Brian had a knife."

"Was this a big guy?" the Sheriff asked, and I could tell my lie had worked.

"Big enough." I said.

The Sheriff got all the men in town together and they went out to the Parker place. They found some blood, but no other sign of Brian or the 'man' that had taken him.

Joe's family put out fliers, the Sheriff called in the state police to expand the search, and they had me look at mug shots to see if I recognized the man, but of course I never did. Everyone kept hoping that they would find Brian, alive and safe. Everyone except me. I knew the truth.

After a month, the case was declared cold. Joe's family eventually moved away, but he hadn't spoken to me since that day anyway. Joe had lost his brother and I had lost my best friend. It was just the start of the things I would lose because of what I saw in the woods. The only good part was that I never saw that particular thing again.

After that day, I tried to figure out what I had seen and I learned about vampires. I read how to protect myself from them by reading books but I didn't know then that most of the time, the books are wrong. Now I know better.

XXX

Tim sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. The stress of the day was starting to catch up with him, but he knew he couldn't stop reading the journal long enough to sleep, even if he could sleep. There was information in these books that Gibbs had wanted him to know (well, besides the origins of a couple of Gibbs' rules), and he had to press on. What he had read so far was both horrifying and enlightening. He could not imagine, as a kid, experiencing what Gibbs had. On the other hand, it did explain a lot about what had shaped the man he had known.

He picked up the book again and started to read, and the sentence at the top of the next page caused his heart to sink in his chest.

Oh, God…

XXX

I was twelve years old when my mother was murdered.

I didn't know she was being murdered at first. We all just thought she was sick, maybe the flu, but she kept getting weaker. "Just a bad case," she said, "and it's taking me longer to get over it." Somehow I knew there was more too it. She went to her doctor in town several times and he said he couldn't find anything wrong. He finally recommended a specialist at a nearby hospital, where they did a bunch of tests and finally came up with a diagnosis: anemia, cause unknown.

I had no idea what anemia was, and I was worried about Mom, so I went to the library as soon as we got home and looked it up: low red blood cell count, sometimes related to iron deficiency; possibly caused by disease, parasites, or extended blood loss.

Blood loss. As soon as I read that, I knew: it was a vampire.

I tried to figure out how one could have gotten to my mother. I knew (which turned out to be wrong) that they couldn't enter the house uninvited. Something like that thing I had seen two years before couldn't go around unnoticed, especially in a place like Stillwater. Turns out I was wrong about that, too.

The doctors tried everything but every time they thought she was doing better her blood cell count would go down again. Finally I decided that I needed to watch her, to see for myself how this was happening. She had gotten too weak to go upstairs, so she slept in the guest room, and I spent several nights watching her sleep. Nothing. I was almost ready to think I was crazy, that the whole vampire idea was nonsense, until the night my Mom died.

I was lying on the sofa, pretending to sleep, when I heard a faint noise from my mother's room. I got there as quickly and quietly as I could, pulled out my knife, and when I opened the door, I froze.

A man was leaning over her and I could see the large syringe in his hand. It was full of something dark and right away I knew what it was. I took a step into the room and raised my knife, ready to stab the thing that was killing my mother. The floor creaked and it turned around, showing me a face I knew: Dr. Benton, my mother's doctor, a man my family had known for years.

He just smiled at me and jumped out the window. I ran after him and after a few blocks he stopped and waited. I tried to stab him but he batted me away and laughed.

"Nice try, Leroy, but I'm afraid you're lacking quite a few things to get the job done."

I told him I would find a way to kill him. I would tell my father, the Sheriff, everyone, and they would hunt him down. That only made him laugh harder. Suddenly, his face shifted: his eyes turned black, his skin turned white, and he let his fangs down. I stared into the face of a monster, and I couldn't move.

"They won't believe you, you know. They never do. A poor, grief stricken boy, one who saw something tragic and couldn't deal with it, blaming something from his imagination. They'll send you to the insane asylum if you persist, and believe me, there are plenty of things I could do there to get you out of the picture. I could take care of you now, but really, it's time I moved on." He changed back into his normal form and grinned. "Now you better get home and comfort your grieving father." He turned and disappeared as I realized what he had said and ran home.

When I got there, I saw my father kneeling next to Mom's bed. He had called for an ambulance, but I think he already knew it was too late. My mother was gone. It was the first time I saw my Dad cry.

I didn't tell anyone what I had seen, because Benton was right. No one would have believed me. It was my secret, and I kept it to myself, but at the same time I made a promise: I would kill every single vampire on Earth, or die trying, but one in particular would be the first to go. Benton's days were numbered.

I read everything I could about vampires, but I had a new focus: how to kill them. It turns out there really aren't that many ways to do it. Fire works. So does the old horror movie stand-by, a wooden stake to the heart. Decapitation works, as well as major damage to the head or torso, but that's easier said than done. I decided that the stake would be the easiest, so I made some that I could conceal in my jacket or book bag.

I also read the newspapers to try and track down Benton. I looked for mysterious deaths or deaths that were due to anemia or blood loss. Finally, nearly three years after I had last seen Benton, I saw an article about an increase in the number of anemia cases in a town about 50 miles from Stillwater. The article blamed toxic discharge from a local mine, but I suspected otherwise. I scanned the papers, looking for a hint of Benton's presence, and I finally found him. He was using a new name, but the picture that accompanied the article left no doubt in my mind. Even though he had also changed his appearance some, I knew it was him. Now I had to figure out how to get to him, or to get him to come to me. I decided on the first option. I could take the bus to the town and wait until the right opportunity to put one of my stakes to use. Looking back, I was incredibly stupid, and very lucky.

I raised enough for bus fare by doing odd jobs around town. The problem was getting enough time away from my Dad to make the trip. I had only one friend, a guy named Matt Henderson, who lived outside of town but went to high school with me. Matt's family didn't have a phone, and I figured Dad wouldn't want to leave his store to check on me, so I told Dad I had been invited over for Memorial Day Weekend. It worked, and I headed out that Friday night in search of Benton.

I had a map of the town and found Benton's house with almost no trouble. I decided to wait until daylight, as I thought vampires would be a little easier to handle then. I knew at this point that they could walk around during the day, since I had seen Benton out in the daylight myself, but I also suspected they didn't like it much, since he had always worn dark glasses and stayed in the shade as much as possible.

Benton's door was unlocked (really, what would a vampire think he had to fear?) and I snuck inside just as the sun rose. I wore gloves so I wouldn't leave fingerprints. I had practiced moving without noise, and it paid off that morning. I found Benton in his study, dozing at his desk. He must have busy that night, because he was slow waking up, slow enough that I was right in front of him before he opened his eyes and I drove the stake into his heart before he could react. He stood and knocked me back before he tried to pull out the stake, but he couldn't. As I watched, blood started to pour out of his eyes, his nose, his mouth, and around the stake. He fell to the ground and crumbled before my eyes, until there was nothing left but a twisted, blackened corpse. I ran from the room, both horrified and relieved. I had finally got justice for Mom.

I checked to see if anyone was around before I left the house and started towards the next town. I'd buy a ticket back, and be home before the weekend was over. Everything had gone down according to plan. What I didn't know was that I had been noticed. I didn't find out until several months later.

I had just turned sixteen, and I was out on another hunt, when a vampire saved my life.

I had read in the paper about a bunch of disappearances two towns over: kids, some as young as four years old, had gone missing from their homes at night. The police suspected it was a kidnapping at first, but no ransom demand was ever received, and the bodies of the kids had not been found. It reminded me of Brian, how he had disappeared with almost no trace, and I suspected it was another vampire. I needed proof, though, so I went to the library and found a local map of the town. I looked up all the addresses and discovered that in the center of the circle that connected all of the addresses there was an abandoned farm, just like the old Parker place. I decided to go check it out.

I got there about an hour before dawn. The place was quiet, with no hint of anything alive, and I settled down to wait. The sun was almost up when I saw someone walking up the driveway towards the house. I realized it was a woman, and she was carrying something. I moved closer and saw that it was a little kid, probably about 3 years old. I hesitated. Big mistake. She looked up, saw me, and dropped the child as she shot towards me, faster than I would have believed possible. Before I could raise my stake, she knocked me to the ground and wrapped her hands, with claws extended, around my throat. I managed to fight her off, but she drew back and punched me in the chest. It felt like it had caved in and I couldn't breathe. I knew I was done, and my last thought as her claws wrapped around my throat again was that maybe I shouldn't have done this alone.

When I woke up, I was laying on a bed. The room was mostly dark, but I could see a man seated a few feet away, looking at me. The conversation that followed is one I'll never forget.

"Welcome back," he said.

"What happened?"

"You made the mistake of taking on a vampire single-handed. She didn't take kindly to it."

"Am I…?"

"You're alive. She's not. Good riddance."

"How did you-?"

"Lots of practice."

"You're a…vampire hunter?"

"Not exactly." He stood, walked to the bed, and looked down at me with those horrible black eyes. Suddenly, I knew why I was here: he wanted me for himself. I tried to get up but I was tied down, and my chest hurt so bad I couldn't move. I yelled and cussed, because I didn't want to die without a fight, but he just looked at me until I couldn't yell anymore. Then, he just smiled.

"Now that you've gotten that out of your system, we need to talk."

"Why didn't you kill me?"

"You're an unusual person, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Not many your age know about us, much less are willing to risk their own sad lives to hunt us. I'd like to know more about you."

"So, what, I'm too interesting to kill?"

He chuckled. "Good a reason as any."

"But what do you want with me?"

"Not so as what I want, but what you want, and what I can do for you."

"No. I don't want to be like you. Not ever."

"That wasn't what I was offering, kid. Tell me, was she the first vampire you've hunted?"

"No. I killed one a few months ago."

"Why?"

"He killed my Mom."

"Revenge. Good motivator. By why are you still hunting?"

"Because I want them all dead." I didn't care if he thought he was included. He was.

"We're not all alike, you know. Yes, we all have to kill to stay alive, but some of us are more selective. We kill the people who deserve it. But there are others of us, like the woman you were after, who don't care who they kill; women, children, the innocents, it doesn't matter to them. It's not right. You know it, and believe it or not, some of us do, too."

"So, what, you're going to kill them all for me?"

"No. A vampire that willingly kills his own kind too often gets noticed and becomes a target. As a human, you won't, mainly because they think you don't matter. To them, you're a temporary nuisance, which in reality makes you much more effective, especially if you have my help."

"You want me to be your assassin? Is that it? What makes you think I'd do it?"

"Because you want them gone as badly as I do, and I can give you something you don't have: knowledge."

"About what?"

"Where they are, how to better protect yourself, and more importantly, how to kill them."

"And what makes you think I won't kill you, too?"

"Because, Leroy, you are a man of honor. I can tell."

"Don't call me Leroy. It's Jethro."

"Fine, Jethro. Are you willing to work with me?"

I gave him my best glare, and he chuckled again.

"I expected that. I'll give you some time to think. You need to rest a bit, anyway. Those ribs must hurt like Hell."

I couldn't argue with that. He started to leave, but there was something I needed to know.

"What do I call you? Am I allowed to know your name?"

"You're allowed, kid. No reason why you wouldn't be."

"OK, so what is it?"

"You can call me Mike."

XXX

"Well, that's another question answered," muttered Tim. He had wondered how Gibbs had first met the vampire that had knocked his own world upside down.

He turned back to the book and continued to read. He learned about Gibbs' agreement to work with Mike and what it had entailed. Mike had explained the vampires' few weaknesses, the best time to catch them with their guard down, and the most efficient ways to kill them. In return, Gibbs had spent months in his father's old shed, working on better tools for the hunt. To hide what he was doing, Gibbs had obtained an old Dodge Charger, which was quite a junker, at least according to Gibbs' colorful descriptions. He pretended to work on it while developing new weapons, some of which amazed and horrified Tim as he read the descriptions of their effects. Gibbs had gone out a number of times after that disastrous second hunt, and by the time he was ready to graduate high school he had amassed quite a body count.

In between the lines, Tim had seen something else: loneliness. Gibbs made no other mentions of friends, but quite a few of enemies. The jocks obviously hated him because hid hadn't participated in sports. The blue-collar families didn't like him because he didn't work in the local mines. He didn't appear to fit in with the "nerds", although Tim was certain Gibbs was not lacking in the brains department: his innovations in weaponry and attention to detail laid that matter to rest (as well as his command of written language). He didn't even really write about girls, other than a few passing comments about a "pretty girl in the department store window".

When Tim reached the last page of the first book he saw a stark reminder that Gibbs himself knew what he was missing.

XXX

There's a race of men that don't fit in,
A race that can't stay still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
And they roam the world at will.
They range the field and they rove the flood,
And they climb the mountain's crest;
Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood,
And they don't know how to rest.

Not something I would usually put in here, I know. The only reason I even know it is because of Mom. She loved poetry. She used to read it to me, and to be honest I never thought much about it, but these few lines I've included here speak the truth: I'm one of the 'men who don't fit in', in more ways than one, and I guess I need to face that. Mike says I need to get out of this town, that it's killing me just as sure as any vampire would, and I guess he's right. I don't have any money for college, and I don't have many job skills (other than vampire hunting, but the pay is lousy). My Dad was in the Navy and I thought about joining up, but I don't think I'd have many chances to hunt on a ship. I want to learn to shoot. I want to learn to fight better. I want to be trained by the toughest, and everything I've read says there's one place for that. I'm going to join the Marines.

Graduation is tomorrow, and by the next morning I'll be on my way to boot camp. Dad doesn't know yet, and I don't think he'll be too happy, but it's something I need to do.

I wrote this journal so, if anything happens to me and I never make it home, my Dad will know the truth. I hope he doesn't think I'm crazy, because I'm not. Vampires exist and I've been hunting them since I was twelve years old, starting with the one who murdered Mom.

I'm still planning to hunt, and I'm still going to write about it, but I'm at the end of this notebook. I'll buy another on my way to Paris Island and start the next book as I start the next stage of my life.

As they say in the Marines, Semper Fi.

XXX

Tim closed the book and silently placed it on the desk next to the others. He had learned quite a bit, but there was still something missing. He doubted that Gibbs expected him to become a hunter, so what information did these books contain that he needed to 'use wisely'?

He looked at his watch and sighed. It was well after midnight, but he still had two more to finish.

Better get back to it.

He picked up the next volume, opened it, and started to read.

A/N: The poem quoted in Gibbs' journal is "The Men Who Don't Fit In" (first stanza), by Robert Service.

There will be two more "journal" chapters, an additional chapter, and an epilogue.

We all hear about Gibbs' "rules", but not too much on how he came up with them. I've included possible reasons for them within the context of this story. Can you spot them? ;)

Signed reviews/constructive criticisms are always appreciated.