Madame Vampire

The setting sun transforms the bustling, regular city into a wild creature. The glimmer of bright lights and the cleansing of walking suits from the streets are just the beginning of the newfound shroud of mystery the city experiences as it gets swallowed up in darkness. The city came alive in ways you couldn’t imagine from the night dwellers. Nocturnal souls seeking pleasure, power, adventure, and sometimes danger took dominion—the blood coursing through the city’s asphalt veins.

Until the disappearances started, that is. People were vanishing without a trace. There were no bodies, wallets, or identification of any kind; only ordinary missing person reports in the newspaper with a revolving door of faces. They could have been obituaries, as not one missing person had ever been found, dead or alive. 

Oh, how I remember the media’s treatment of the first disappearance. While reading the initial report, I could tell instantly how uninterested the reporter was in the situation. He even tried sliding a couple of zingers, like Salvatore Caruso being “the best hide-and-seek player in Gladenwood Sanctuary” or saying “his relatives decided to be a loving family finally and took him on vacation.” The more I think about it now, who reported Salvatore’s disappearance? Did he have any family? Did anyone care? The reporter didn’t, obviously, but maybe the readers thought differently, or I hoped they did. Nobody thinks about the victims, not truly, especially the first one, before several more start popping up. It’s unfortunate for Salvatore Caruso, in particular, because his time in the victim spotlight didn’t last long.

When people realized that maybe something was wrong and cared enough to search for the older man, there was another disappearance: Jeremy Adams, a young, ambitious lawyer who recently passed the bar exam. He and his colleagues planned a trip to a cabin up north to celebrate. The cabin was well-secluded in the woods, entirely cut off from civilization but well-stocked with state-of-the-art amenities. 

But Jeremy never reached the cabin in the woods. His car hadn’t even left his apartment garage. Forensics found Jeremy’s suitcase packed in his room but no signs of struggle or Jeremy altogether. Maybe it was Jeremy’s young age compared to the older Salvatore or his promising career in law enforcement, but Jeremy’s missing person report hit the papers in a fury. A full-page characterization of Jeremy appeared in the paper, highlighting everything from his Little League baseball team to being admitted into the University of Chicago. There was even a rather hefty ransom listed for any information that would lead to finding Jeremy. 

More and more Salvatores and Jeremys continued to happen for weeks. The city that once transformed with new life as the dark draped the sky was now motionless and otherworldly. Nobody knew who was behind the disappearances. How could they? Forensics never found any evidence at the presumed crime scenes, nothing that could point toward the missing person’s whereabouts or point toward how they vanished. As new victims continued to pop up in the papers, the rumors became more and more outrageous, and I wondered if people were genuinely losing their minds. Are the spectral spirits exacting revenge on the other side? Wormholes created by rips in space-time and devouring unsuspecting bystanders? Or what about a crocodile monster snatching people for its prey and descending back to its home in the sewers?

I chuckled, shifting the light layer of dust on my desk. Imagine a twenty-foot crocodile monstrosity going unnoticed around the city. Absurd! I shake my head and focus on the clutter before me. Mountains of history books stack on my desk, acting like uneven staircases ascending to heaven. Learning about the past and how history always repeats itself despite humanity’s constant plea against it is an obsession of mine. It’s fascinating to try to identify similarities among significant civilizations throughout history and analyze the rises and falls of each one. 

A rapid knock strikes my office door as I reach for a book I’d already studied closely. Did I order something? Slightly confused, I push my chair back, and its legs scrap against the stone floor. I open the door, and a bundle of roses assaults my face.

“Good evening.”

I peek through the crimson petals and find the culprit behind the sinister-toned greeting. It’s a young man with thick, curly hair and the warmest smile you’ll find in the city. I was fortunate to meet Anthony on a late-night stroll through the park. With all the disappearances lately, it’s pretty uncommon to see many people out and about once the sun sets. His smile drew me in, and he took his chance and asked why someone as pretty as me was walking around so late at night. I blushed at the compliment and responded, “Well, I could certainly ask you the same thing. With an emphasis on your dashingly good looks.”

From there, Anthony and I chatted quite a bit. Our conversations were strictly over text; he explained that his work didn’t allow him much freedom to have phone conversations, which was fine with me. I was not particularly busy throughout the day, but mostly because I hated speaking on the phone. Anthony never divulged his line of work, but his secrecy on the matter didn’t bother me. I enjoyed the aura of mystery about him.

Anthony’s sudden appearance at my office did catch me by surprise. I don’t recall telling him where I work, but maybe it slipped my mind. I inhaled deeply, taking the flowers, imagining what their sweet aroma must smell like.

“These are gorgeous, thank you, Anthony,” I said, smiling. “How did you know where to find me?”

I walk back into my office and set the flowers on the coffee table, curious to hear Anthony’s response, even if I had a good idea of what it would be. 

“Oh, right, I hoped you wouldn’t have asked that,” Anthony said nervously. I turned back to face him to watch him try to wiggle his way out of this one. After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Anthony took a deep breath and admitted what I already knew.

“I figured out where your office was; I’m sorry if that sounds creepy,” he said. “Last week, when we first met in the park, you said you were just leaving your office. There are few office buildings within working distance of the park, and with it being night, I wouldn’t expect you to have been walking very far. I narrowed it down and started…” Anthony paused, presumably searching for the least offensive word to say. “I started scouting potential contenders, and when I thought how crazy I was being, I finally saw you.”

I felt my cheeks flush at the thought of Anthony hiding in nearby bushes, watching her every move. It was daring, and I liked that. I walk toward the leather couch and ask Anthony to join me. I shift to close the small gap between us and feel his warm breath near my lips. Anthony lunged himself onto me as if the tension was too much for him to bear. I surrender under his weight and feel his hands all over me. I start kissing his neck until he suddenly jerks backward, a look of confusion on his face.

“Did you just bite me?” He asked while touching his neck gingerly. He checks his fingers and finds bright crimson at the tips. I slowly wipe my mouth and lick my lips. I look up at him and watch as the passion and lust that dominated his eyes quickly change into terror and anxiety. My mouth widens and shows off the sharp, pearly white daggers hidden behind a false sense of security. 

“I’m sorry, Anthony, I actually kinda liked you,” I said, inching closer to him. Anthony, paralyzed with fear, cannot move away. Soon, Anthony will be the latest in the line of Salvadores and Jeremys. I slowly move closer, lift my mouth next to his ear, and whisper the last thing he will ever hear.

“Thanks again for the flowers.”