Vampire Part One: Carrie

Part One: Carrie

By

Vincent T. Deabler, Ph.D.

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Vincent T. Deabler, Ph.D. on Smashwords

Vampire Part One: Carrie

Copyright © 2010 by Vincent T. Deabler, Ph.D.

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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To my Muse and love Sandy and to Sean & Barb. And many thanks to the original AOL journal bloggers for their encouragement and support.

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VAMPIRE

PART ONE: CARRIE

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CHAPTER 1

James was in the barn, final chores of the evening. It was past dusk and he was laying a last bale of hay in the cow’s stalls when he heard the sound. A low growling sound, faint but unmistakable. Roffie? he whispered, but he was quite sure that the dog was in the house with his wife and two daughters. Roffie stayed with his kids each night until bedtime, when James put him in the barn to stay with the cows, to sound an alarm in case of any threat to the animals. Jasper from two farms up had reported seeing something like a large dog, bigger than a coyote, at the tree line behind his property, and all of the locals were taking extra precautions.

He heard the sound again, coming from behind him. As James turned to the growl, he felt something, like a heavy weight, strike him in the back. James was thrown forward, landing hard on his left side. As he attempted to scramble to his feet, the growl repeated itself, and he felt a tearing at his throat, behind his left ear. James fell again and the weight was on him, tearing, thrashing, pulling at the neck of his sweatshirt. He felt the warm sticky liquid staining his shirt and felt the strength leeching from his body.

With a last effort, James found the pitchfork he was using to strew the hay and as the animal bounded toward him, he held the pitch fork tines up and the monster impaled itself and lay still.

With his blood freely flowing, James knew he must get to the house for help. He would soon be unconscious if the blood flow could not be slowed and he could not reason how to accomplish this. Carrie will know what to do, he told himself, and began to crawl to the door on the back porch of the house. James was unable to stand and as he snaked his way to the back porch, he could see a marred line of blood following him from the barn.

James finally arrived at the back porch and with a final effort banged on the door as hard as he could, then collapsed.

Carrie, his wife, was cleaning up after supper and was just on the other side of the door. She heard a scraping, then a bang, and rushed to the back window. As she peered into the dark, the full moon illuminated the back yard and she frighted upon seeing a large grey animal stalking to her back porch. It was keening and walking unsteadily but was steadily, assuredly coming! Carrie screamed, locked the back door, and ran into the living room to be with her children. Grabbing the phone, she called 911.

Help!! There’s a wild animal trying to get in the house and my husband’s in the barn! Please, Help!! The police said they would be there in 10 minutes, hang on, and she gathered her children to her breast.

James never woke up in time to see the animal reach his destination...reach his final meal.

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CHAPTER 2

Blinding light! All white!

Where am I? James said to himself. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw a man standing at the foot of his bed. Hi James said the man. He recognized the man, Sheriff Sean Taylor.

Hello, Sheriff, Where am I? How did I get here?

Now calm down James, everything is going to be OK, said Sheriff Taylor.  Your wife called us, said a wild animal was coming to get in the house, and you were in the barn. When we got there, we found you lying on the back porch, your throat cut open. Luckily, the EMTs were there, saved your life.

James looked at the man, everything slowly coming back to him. Did you find the animal? Did it get away? he pleaded.

The Sheriff looked down at James, shaking his head. Well, you see James, that’s what I was hoping to talk to you about. We didn’t see any animal. But, lying next to you on the porch was a man, impaled on a pitchfork, dead! What do you know about that?

James looked away from the Sheriff, looked at the ceiling, looked at his hands. Sheriff, are you saying that you think I killed this man?

Taylor responded, shaking his head, Well, James, your wife said she heard a bang on the back door, then saw something crawling towards the house. Must`ve been this guy.

James felt very strange, like his blood was racing through his body, like something was impelling his body to race. He pushed himself up to protest, then blackness again. When he awoke, James felt strangely refreshed, strangely resilient. He opened his eyes and saw his wife sitting next to him. Oh baby, I was so worried! How are you feeling?

James looked at his wife and felt a warmth pervading his body. How could he explain, make her understand; he felt better, maybe better than he had in years! (How can he understand it himself?) Oh, I’m doing fine Carrie, really fine!

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CHAPTER 3

The next few days were full of questions from the Sheriff, questions he had no answer for. Are you sure it was an animal that attacked you?

It was big and strong and growled, Sheriff, what else could it have been?

Well James, here’s a picture of the dead man. Have you ever seen him before?' James stared at the picture, dumbfounded. Sheriff I never saw this man in my life!"

Are you sure James? Maybe at Church?

 What the hell are you accusing me of Taylor? I never saw this man before, in or out of church!

Sheriff Taylor sat down on the little chair next to the bed. Now James, I`m not accusing you of anything, but we do know that you might have seen this man before, like all of us might have. Up until a few weeks ago, he was a patient at the Psychiatric Hospital up the road, in the Forensics Unit. Must have been doing pretty well, ‘cause he was with the group from there that used to come to church services on Sundays.

No, Sheriff, I don’t remember seeing him, just the group that sat in the back, with the guards. I’ll bet you don’t remember him either!

Well, you’re right there, James, I don’t rightly remember any of them, `cept the Doc. Sheriff Taylor leaned back in the chair and felt his hand venture to his shirt pocket.

Boy, I sure could use a cigarette, damn hospitals. Well anyway James, this man named Larry Dean was convicted of a killing spree upstate, couple of months ago. Tore up 3 men, 2 women and a child in 3 separate attacks. Got found not guilty by reason of insanity and was sent to the Hospital here right after. Crazy! Tried to plead that he was a werewolf, asked the judge to put him to death! Doc says he’s settled down with Meds, `cept about once a month they put him in isolation for his own safety. Anyhow, he seemed quiet enough that they took him to church service a couple of times. The last time, `bout 2 weeks ago, he slipped out a side door while pretending to go to Communion! We’ve been looking for him ever since. Anyhow, James, looks like you did us a service, taking him out. Just a shame he had to rip your throat like that.

James recovered rapidly and, against Doctor’s advice, went home three days later. He felt quite well physically, but his thinking was muddled. He couldn’t understand what the Sheriff had told him; that a man’s body was found next to his on his back porch! With a pitchfork in his chest! What happened to the animal that attacked him? Who killed the other man?

With no answers, James went back to his chores. Carrie seemed overly solicitous, always telling him to sit, relax... He was getting tired of it. And the kids were getting on his nerves. Every night he took it as long as he could, then he had to get out, out into the open. He felt strangely calm outside, gazing at the moon. He was enjoying watching the moon grow. Every eve` it seemed a little larger, a little brighter!

One evening the moon seemed full, and James found himself pacing in the yard. His mind was racing with images, blood and gore, wolves; He heard sounds of baying, screams of pain, and then nothing. He seemed to fall asleep, and then he dreamt.

James dreamt of himself racing to the trees, the moon glowing his path. He came to a flock of sheep and suddenly felt parched, arid. He must have something to drink! James fell upon a ewe, and dreamt of what it must be like to bite at its throat, gnashing, gnawing. He dreamt of the blood gushing, and his sating, and he awoke from his dream.

James, James, You’re bleeding! Wake up, Jimmie, please! As James awoke he found himself shaking, sobbing. Carrie was crying over him and she bent down and gathered him to her bosom

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CHAPTER 4

James spent the night in turmoil. Every part of his body ached and there was this infernal itchy feeling through his body, as if his insides had been infected by sumac or ivy. Carrie had cleaned him up last night and she seemed very confused.

Jimmie, your neck stitches have held, looks clean and your wound is completely closed. And I don’t see any other cuts on your body! I can’t figure out where all that blood came from that was all over you!

Leave me alone, will you Dammit , shouted James as he got out of the bed. Carrie began to cry and this seemed to affect James. I’m sorry, Hon, I don`t know what’s wrong with me. Just leave me for a bit so I can think.

As Carrie left the bedroom and started making breakfast for the kids, James heard a car pull into their front. He ran to the living room and looked outside. The Sheriff! What was he doing here at this hour of the morning? Farming families got up very early, it was still only 5.00 a.m.; the sun would not fully rise for another hour at least.

James sped to the kitchen and spoke to Carrie. The Sheriff’s come visiting. Stay here in the kitchen with the kids and for God’s sake, don`t say anything about last night. He leaned closely to his wife, and don`t say nothin’ ‘bout the blood, he whispered.

As Sheriff Taylor reached the front porch, James opened the front door and met him. Morning Sheriff, what can I do for you?

Mornin’ James, just thought I’d stop by and see how’re you’re doing. How’s the neck, asked the Sheriff.

Doin’ pretty well, Sheriff, thanks for asking. Anything else I can help you with?

The Sheriff lit a cigarette, then said, Well, James I’ve been stopping at all the farms up this way. You know the sheepherder that has property up the tree line? Well, looks like something attacked one of his ewes last night. Tore up its throat, blood all over!

That’s terrible, Sheriff! I wonder if it has anything to do with that animal that attacked me.

Taylor finished his cigarette, lit another, and then shook his head. That’s what I’ve been wondering. See, the sheep wasn’t the only thing tore up last night. Jack, the herder, must have tried to protect his sheep from whatever it was. Got him, too, neck cut open, chewed up a bit. I was wondering if you saw anything, knew anything about it?

James looked at the Sheriff and shook his head. Are you accusing me of something, Sheriff?

Nah, James, just wonderin` if you heard or saw anything, Taylor replied.

James and Taylor stared at each other, then the Sheriff turned away and lit a cigarette. Well, gotta be movin`, if you hear anything, please let me know. Okay, Sheriff, I’ll let you know.

As Sheriff Taylor drove away, James pondered the situation; the dead man on his porch, the dead sheepherder. Could I have had anything to do with this? He remembered little from these nights, and felt himself shivering. Rather than hurt anyone else, if I did these things, I’ll kill myself!....................

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CHAPTER 5

Sheriff Taylor had an appointment back at the office and so he took Rte. 40 straight into town. A Doctor was coming up from Philadelphia, wanted to talk to him about Larry Dean, the dead man found on James` porch. His name was van Helsing and he was some big deal shrink from Europe. It seems as if Dean was vacationing near the moors in Scotland and he was attacked by a large animal there. This van Helsing was called by Interpol to investigate the attack [it seems as if he was listed as the expert by Interpol for these mysterious goings-on, and was always sent to investigate these crimes.]

Taylor finished his cigarette, parked the cruiser, and entered his offices. Mary was on duty at the desk.

Hi, Sheriff, the Doc’s waiting for you in your office The sheriff replied, Thanks, Mary, no calls please, although I don’t know who would be calling at this ungodly hour, and entered his office.

Standing at the window, peering at the town, was a tall thin man who very slowly turned at the sound of the door opening.

Good Morning, is it Sheriff Taylor? Taylor nodded his head and the man continued, I am van Helsing.

The Sheriff and the Doctor shook hands. How can I help you, Doc? asked Taylor.

Well, Sheriff, I’ve been empowered by Interpol to look into the circumstances of the death of Larry Dean. You see, when Dean was first captured here in Pennsylvania, your State Police contacted your F.B.I., since there was a world-wide alert for Dean. Through Interpol, I was told of his capture here, and I contacted the Medical Director of the Psychiatric Hospital with detailed instructions on his care. Unfortunately, not all of my instructions were followed, and Dean had the opportunity to escape.

Van Helsing looked at the Sheriff, saw that his shirt pocket bulged, and asked, Sheriff, do you mind if I smoked?

Taylor broke out into a grin, Well, Doc, only if I can join you. He took out his pack and offered van Helsing a cigarette.

Thank You, Sheriff. I must admit that I’ve grown a genuine liking to your American cigarettes in the past few weeks. You see, I’ve been quite busy with another situation which required my immediate attention, and since I knew Dean was under guard, I felt that it was safe to pursue that difficulty while the trail was still warm. But now......

Van Helsing stubbed his cigarette in the ashtray and gestured to a chair.

Do you mind if I sit? The sheriff looked at the Doctor, who seemed deflated. Take my seat, Doc, it’s more comfortable. The doctor sat down and closed his eyes for a second. When they opened he seemed refreshed, Now, Sheriff, can you tell me if there were any unusual circumstances surrounding his death?

Taylor replied, Well, when we found his body, there was a man lying next to him, throat badly cut, who said he had been attacked by an animal. Said he didn’t know anything bout the Dean body, but he remembered pitch forking this animal.

Van Helsing questioned, Did Dean have wounds consistent with someone who had been stabbed with a pitchfork?

Now that you mention it, Doc, sure could have been. Yep, sure.....

Van Helsing interrupted, Have