Dried Blood (Day 6 - Day 10)

January Sixth

  Wilson was finding it difficult breathe, he was claustrophobic. His eyes opened slowly, his vision was a blur. Finally, he was focused again. He was in a small hospital room, similar to the one he was in before, but this one was completely different. It contained a window.

  Wilson turned his head to the other direction of the room. So many faces, doctors and nurses were staring at him in wonder. There was only one familiar face, Ms. Alatorre. “He’s awake!” She shouted.

  It was like the entire hospital was in his room, but he knew it was impossible. Wilson was able to sit up on his hard bed.

  “Mr. Wilson, I’m Dr. Tyson.” An older man in a white doctor’s coat walked up to Wilson and shook his hand.

  “What’s happening, why are all these people here?” Wilson asked, much panicked.

  “Mr. Wilson, what it last thing you remember from yesterday. Anything will help us.” Dr. Tyson said, ignoring his question.

  Wilson was horrified after remembering yesterday’s event. I was shot…. Wilson thought. “I was shot several times in the chest.”

  “Please examine your chest, sir.” Wilson lifted up his shirt and found not even a scratch where the bullet had hit him.

  “What the fuck?! What’s happening to me?” Wilson begged the doctor for an answer.

  “We took you here along with two other co-workers who were shot down. Their names were Dylan and Charlene, I believe. They did not survive. We were about to perform surgery on you, but we watched as your body pushed out the bullets on its own, and then sealed the holes in your chest.” Dr. Tyson said, sounding very amazed.

    “I need to go.” Wilson left the bed and began to try to walk out the room’s small door, not caring who he might push.

  “Get him, don’t let him leave!” Ms. Alatorre shouted, pointing an old wrinkly finger at Wilson.

  “You know that’s against the law, nurse.” Dr. Tyson said, not calling her by Ms. Alatorre as disrespect.

  Once Wilson left the room, and walked the long hallway. He whispered to himself. “It’s like I’m not even human anymore.”

 

January Seventh

  It was Thursday morning and Wilson was watching television, the cooking channel to be specific. In only two weeks he had been in a highly fatal car accident, shot several times in the chest, and lost the one person in life he still loved and trusted. His world was crumbling on top of him, and then mystically repairing itself. It didn’t work that way, it couldn’t.

  His door bell rang the exact second the chef cut the tomato in half. Wilson left his big red chair and opened the door.

  “Morning, Mr. Wilson.”  It was the only woman he knew that always greeted him based on the time of day, Ms. Alatorre. But she was accompanied with the doctor he had met yesterday, Dr. Tyson.

  “Hello, may I help you?” Wilson asked as Dr. Tyson reached out his hand for a handshake. Wilson shook the man’s hand, but the second their flesh touched, Dr. Tyson pulled his hand away as hard as he could from Wilson’s grip. Wilson let go and took several steps back.

  “Your hand, it’s so cold, are you feeling alright?” Dr. Tyson asked. The doctor had a tendency for avoiding questions.

  “I’m going to ask you again, may I help you both?” Wilson touched the doorknob, readying himself to slam the door on their faces.

  “Mr. Wilson, we are asking you to come back to the hospital with us. You are like something we have never seen before. Many intelligent scientists will be arriving in town later this week, they could examine you and what might be causing your body to heal like this, maybe it could be something in your blood, it could save lives. Please, consid-

  Wilson slammed the door on his face. There was no damned cure in his blood, it was more like a mutation, and with that, he locked his door and continued watching his cooking show.

 

January Eighth

  Wilson ate the last piece of bacon on his plate. This morning had been quite strange. His memory had returned to him. Well at least half of it. He could remember about half of December 31^st. He thought about it again.

  It was New Year’s Eve morning, and Wilson was eating his breakfast. Suddenly, Melinda appeared and jumped onto his back. He tumbled out of his chair and regained his balance. His house was filled with light, laughter, and love, but that so long ago, or so it seemed. Now his home was a wasteland of darkness, sorrow, and confusion.

  He remembered driving to bank, for a very important reason. He took 700$ out of his account. He was going to buy a ring, he was going to ask Melinda to marry him at the exact second the clock began the New Year. Wilson had this completely planned out. Wilson and Melinda would be going to small party at Melinda’s parent’s house. But there was a change of plans.

 At about 3:00 P.M., Melinda wanted to go to a club. Wilson would just have to pick a different night, it was upset, but he would still try to have fun. That’s all he could remember.

  This is useless. Wilson thought as he hit his fist against the table. This information couldn’t help him; it didn’t explain how he ended up nearly in pieces. He sighed and left the table, leaving his half-eaten eggs unattended.

 

January Ninth

  Wilson closed his cell phone and ended his call. It was Mr. Noyes who he had been talking to, his boss. Noyes informed Wilson that the company would be shut down for a month at least, due to the shooting, many walls, windows, and cars were also damaged.

  Mr. Noyes was an alright man, he didn’t pay Wilson enough, but he wasn’t that bad. Wilson had always looked up to Noyes, like an uncle. They had known each other for years, but Noyes had always seen Wilson as a child.

  Wilson was going to meet Noyes for coffee. He threw on his gray suit that he always would wear to work; he thought maybe Noyes would see himself in more of a mature way if he wore it.

  He was ready to leave his home; Wilson took his keys off the dining table and opened his front door.

  “Argh!” Wilson screamed as his vision went white, bright white, the white engulfed everything, white everywhere. It began to burn, burn like the day he had touched boiling water as a child, but hotter. Wilson hadn’t noticed he was still screaming in pain.

  He fell to his knees and caught himself with his two arms. He had never felt such pain, wait yes he had, the car accident, no this was worse, far worse. It increased in pain every second.

  Move, He thought. MOVE! Wilson leaped out of the straight path of sunlight that led into his home and onto a dark shadow that covered the rest of his house. His vision came back, it was the sunlight, it burned him, and it felt like it had incinerated him into nothingness.

  Wilson got onto his feet and slammed his door shut; he would not be meeting Noyes for coffee today, not any day.

 

  January Tenth

  Wilson was so tired, his eyes were bright red. He hadn’t fallen asleep at all. It was almost 2:00 P.M. and he was hiding in the dark corners of his home. The light, it burned him. This wasn’t normal, this didn’t happen to anyone.

  He remembered everything of December 31^st, he knew why this was all happening, and he knew what he was.

  It was 10:00 P.M. and Wilson and Melinda had just arrived at the club. In about 30 minutes, Melinda was jumping off the walls drunk. Wilson would be the designated driver; he hadn’t taken a sip of alcohol.

  He kept a close eye on Melinda, he went with her everywhere. “I’m going to call Bobby! I’ll be right back!” Melinda shouted and ran away from Wilson. He ran after her, who the hell was Bobby? There were so many people, he couldn’t see her anymore.

  At 11:30 P.M., Wilson was still searching desperately. He was asking everyone in the club if they had seen her, but none of them had. He was close to calling the cops in for a search party.

  Finally, there she was. Melinda was laughing hysterically, and sitting on a man’s lap. Apparently, he had found Bobby also.

  Wilson ran up to Melinda. “Come on, were leaving.” He said, in a firm tone.

  “Oh! Hi Travis!” Melinda said, giggling and then kissing Bobby.

  Bobby pulled his lips away from hers and got up off the stool he was sitting on. “Back off,” Bobby shouted and punched Wilson across the jaw, causing him to fall onto the cold floor.

  He heard laughing, people were laughing, somebody was laughing so much louder, and it was Melinda. She was the only person who he trusted, the only person who had motivated him to do better things. He wanted to call Melinda on his cell phone and tell her what just happened.

  Wilson got up and ran, ran toward the exit. Suddenly, a hand grabbed his arm with force, pulling him through the crowd.

  The hand was so cold, so very cold. Wilson tried to see the person who had been dragging him through the club was, he was wearing a hat, and he had bright yellow eyes, and pale skin. That wasn’t normal, not all.

  Wilson was pulled into a storage closet; the man locked the door shut. Wilson focused on the man’s eyes, his strange eyes.

  “I am James Langton,” He whispered in a cold voice.

  “I’m Travis Wilson, what the fuck do you want from me?”

  “Nice to meet you Mr. Wilson, I saw what happened. I know how you gaze into my eyes; it’s one of the great things you gain in this gift I carry. Look what you’re standing on.”

  Wilson looked onto the red tile floor, it wasn’t red, it was blood. Wilson could see 5 bodies, 5 gutted, ripped open, unrecognizable corpses. “You disgusting monster!” Wilson screamed, looking for an exit. He was going to be murdered, he thought.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, I want to help you Mr. Wilson, do you know what I am?” Langton asked.

  “You’re a crazy serial killer, I don’t want any trouble, just let me leave, I won’t tell anyone, I swear.” Wilson begged.

  “I’m a vampire. I have a gift, a wonderful gift Mr. Wilson, a gift I want to pass onto you. You can get back at everyone who ever hurt you.”

  Wilson was enraged, at the time; he even considered this man wasn’t a psychopath. “Prove it to me; prove to me that you’re a vampire.”

  “Keep gazing into my eyes, I can pass the curse onto you through eye contact. You will feel it, you can choose to accept or deny the gift. I am a three week old vampire Mr. Wilson. The first week you will not remember any of this day, your body will begin to lose all blood, and you will heal any damages that you have ever had. The second week you will begin to remember this day, and the transformation will begin. You will become more and more like a vampire each day. The third week, you will finally have the strength to get back at those disgusting people.” Langton whispered, in a calm and cool voice.

  Langton almost sounded like he was speaking the truth to Wilson. Wilson felt something in him now, he felt something good or evil that was flowing through him. He couldn’t decide.

  “I have passed the curse onto you, you can become a vampire, exactly like myself, only if you kill yourself tonight. The curse will ware off once a new day begins if you do not accept it in time. You have 20 minutes Mr. Wilson, be wise.” Langton said as he unlocked the door.

  Wilson ran out the door and toward the exit. He believed Langton, he didn’t want to, but he did. Wilson got into his car and began to drive. He drove as fast as he could. That last thought he had was, even if Langton was lying, he would have done this either way.

  His car skid off the road and crashed into some trees. Mr. Wilson was dead.

  This isn’t fair! Wilson thought. “This isn’t fucking fair!” He shouted through his home, as tears began to flow from his eyes. He didn’t want to kill Melinda anymore, but it was too late.