Forget the Light Give Me the Night

He awoke to the beaming sunlight shining into his eyes from between the victorian medallion drapes. The parted drapes allowed the bright sunny day on the world outside in. He squinched his eyes, throwing one hand over them using the other to grip at a blanket that covered him. His head started to throb. His mouth was dry and tasted as if he had been munching on dry cat litter. Glancing around, he saw his pants lying on the carpeted floor next to the large sofa he was occupying. An empty bottle of Pappy Van Winkle bourbon was located just beneath him next to two whiskey glasses that contained the remnants of final drinks. One glass had lipstick marks smeared on the rim, while a pair of women’s black stilettos were next to the glasses.

“Ooh, my head,” the young black-haired man groaned as he sat up, grabbing his head with his right hand and lifting the blanket with his left. “Ha! still naked,” he laughed out loud as he began to regain some memory.

He recalled being at The Fringe last night, a nightclub he often visited when patroling for a hookup. He had done well and caught the eye of a dark-haired beauty staring at him from a corner booth in the club. She had thick, full coal-black hair, and her bright red lipstick made her eyes seem piercing. She looked at him as if she were calling him over with just her eyes. He followed her gaze and sat next to her. They drank a couple of kamikazes while chatting, then danced to the industrial music blaring through the club.

The next thing he remembered, they were here on this couch getting intimate after having some very expensive bourbon. He was pretty sure they had gone all the way in their affair. He could remember staring at her plump, firm breast and dark brown nipples as she straddled him. Then everything was blank, until the moment he just woke up too.

He got up and grabbed his jeans on the floor, shoving one leg into one pants leg, trying to follow with the other. His head started to spin, causing him to fall to the floor. He felt embarrassed.

“Oops! I meant to do that,” he said out loud, just in case he was being watched.

Laying on his back on the carpeted floor, he finished pulling his pants on then buckled his belt. He got back up, looked around the room, but didn’t see anyone. A large grandfather clock began to gong from across the room. He glanced over at the tall wooden obelisk as it struck the hour of 10 am. He noticed a closed door next to the clock and recalled hearing a door close sometime during the night. He also noticed that the only other exit was the entrance to the apartment.

“Odd,” he thought, “just this front room and one other door. Oh well, it looks like an old place. Maybe they built them that way back then.”

He noticed his shirt lying on the floor behind the couch, along with his socks and boots scattered elsewhere. He walked over toward the door next to the grandfather clock.

“Good morning! Hell of a time, huh!” raising his voice in front of the door, then listening for a response. Hearing nothing, he gave a slight knock on the door, again no sound. He gripped the door handle and tried to open the door, but it was locked.

“Well, I guess you feel as rough as I do. Look, I would love to hang around and wait on you, but who knows how long that’ll be? So, I’m going to go. Maybe I’ll see you at The Fringe again sometime. I’m in there usually every other Saturday night or so.”

He bent down, noticing an old-style skeleton keyhole below the doorknob. He tried peering through the hole. He saw nothing but darkness but couldn’t shake the feeling that someone or something was staring back at him. He straightened back up, feeling creeped out. He grabbed his shirt on the floor, threw it on, followed by his socks and boots. He noticed a pair of red g-string panties half-tucked into the couch cushions. Smiling, he grabbed them and stuck them in his pocket.

“Keep these as a souvenir,” he said under his breath, giggling.

“Ok, I am going now. Great to meet you. Hope we can do it again sometime,” speaking out loud while heading to the entrance door.

He clicked down the thumb switch on the old-fashioned brass door handle, and the door popped open. “Thank God, it’s unlocked,” he commented as he slipped out the door. A small awning covered the entrance providing shade over the door area. Once he stepped into the bright sunlight, he winced in pain and threw his hands up to his eyes.

“Holy cow! This hangover is worse than I thought,”

He started walking down the street. He gave a quick look at the street sign at the corner he was next to while shielding his eyes with his hand.

“At least I’m only five blocks from home, should make that,” he reassured himself as he turned down the sidewalk for home.

It was only a couple of blocks before his head was pulsing in pain, and his skin felt like it was on fire from the sunlight. He darted into a small drugstore on the second block of his walk. He instantly felt better once inside and out of the direct sun. He glanced around and found what he was looking for, sunglasses. He grabbed a cheap pair, the darkest tinted ones he saw and went to the register. He slammed the glasses over his eyes after purchasing them. He noticed that the skin on his hands and arms looked more reddish than usual. “Weird,” he said as he walked back outside.

As he stepped out into the street, he looked toward the sun. He noticed that his eyes didn’t hurt as bad from the light, but he still had to squint even with the sunglasses. All the rest of his bared skin again started to feel as if it was beginning to burn.

“What the fuck! I feel like I’ve been laying out at the beach for hours or something?”

A man passing by gave him a queer look. He could tell the man thought that he was on drugs.

“I probably look like shit,” he said to himself under his breath. His head throbbed again.

“I know what’ll help, the hair of the dog. O’Brien’s is just another block away and on my way. Pop in, have a drink, and get out of this infernal sun for a minute. Maybe there is some solar activity going on today or some shit.”

He entered the bar and immediately felt relief from the sun. The dark bar room with its few stained windows allowed minimal sunlight to filter through. The dim light felt like sitting in a cool mountain stream on a hot summer day. He went and sat at the bar, and a large, half-bald, chunky bartender came over to him while wiping a glass down with a bar towel.

“Whatchya havin kid?”

He planted his elbows on the bar and gripped his head in his hands, “Give me a red beer.”

Without even asking, the bartender poured a Schlitz into a pint glass until it was a couple of inches from being full. He then grabbed a bottle of tomato juice and topped the pint off.

“Here you go, kid. What’s with the sunglasses? You a vampire or something?”

The kid hissed at the fat man, who just chuckled and went back to the other end of the bar. He drank his beer, and the cool tomatoey beer-infused drink started to make him feel normal again. He sipped on his beer for the next ten minutes trying to recall the night and what occurred at the place he had found himself in this morning. He couldn’t think of anything odd. However, the whole memory of the event at the apartment was foggy at best.

“She did keep saying something like your one of us while riding me. That was odd. Oh well, it’s just the hangover. I’m feeling way better now after this drink. Just get my ass home and sleep the day away and start again tomorrow on the green.”

As he finished his last gulp, the bartender walked up in front of him,

“You going to have another?”

“Nah, need to get home and get some rest. Too fun of a night. You know what I mean?”

“Oh, yeah, kid. Been a long time for me, but I remember them. Say that beer did the trick, though. When you came in here, you looked like a red man; now you’re white again. Hey, I recognize you. You caddie down at Pleasant Greens. I hit a few holes down there time to time.”

The kid just nodded and slapped down a five-dollar bill on the table. As he lay the money down, he did notice that his skin was much paler than before.

“Well, ain’t that something? Thanks, man. Maybe see you out on the course. Chao,” He got up and headed for the door.

As soon as he got outside, the intensity of the sun struck him again. He kept walking home. Several times along the way, he would stop in the shade of a tree, overhang, or inside a shop to get a break from the searing sunlight. He made it to his apartment. He ran to his bedroom, and his curtains were wide open to the light outside. He sprinted to the window holding his hands in front of his face blocking the beams of sunlight as best he could while grabbing the curtains and yanking them closed.

He fell to the floor with his back against the wall panting with exhaustion. He looked toward his bed, still seeing a beam of light coming from between the curtains directly at his pillow. He got up and went to his closet, and found a spare dark-colored blanket. He threw the blanket over the curtains blocking out any sunlight from shining in. The room was now dark but lit enough to see. He sat for a few moments, took off his sunglasses, then undressed. He felt his skin cool down, and he could see the contrast in color from his exposed skin to that which was under clothing. Within a few minutes, all of his skin returned to the same tone of white. He felt relieved as he crawled into bed.

“What’s wrong with me? Hopefully, a good rest, and everything will be back to normal tomorrow.”

He was out within moments. He didn’t wake until the sound of his alarm at 7 am the following day. He got up, feeling revived and fully rested. He had to test his self out, though. He approached the blanketed window with caution. He raised his arm toward the blanket he had covered the curtains with as he crept his way to the window. He could see the sunlight filtering in behind the covering. He pulled at the blanket like a scared child trying to peep out from under the covers, afraid to see what was lurking in the dark. The sunlight came through the slit between the curtains as he pulled off the blanket. He put his hand into the light.

“Ahh, yes! Yes! It’s not burning. I must have just had an episode, some reaction to those damn kamikaze drinks or something. Awesome! Back to being me!”

The day started perfectly. He felt happy to be out on the green, caddying for wealthy old golfers and hanging out with his buddies. The morning had started sunny. Then heavy overcast moved in while heading out with his first client. The cloud cover broke during lunch, and the early afternoon was clear blue skies with a burning sun. Within an hour of the bright sun, the kid began feeling his skin heating up and a feeling of nausea. By 2 pm, the golfer he was with even noticed his caddie’s discomfort.

“You alright, son? You weren’t aren’t partying too late, were you?”

Just as the golfer voiced his concern, the young man collapsed on the green. The next thing he remembered was waking up back in the club. They had brought him into a small medical room the club had for grounds personnel or members in case of injuries. He recognized the face of Jimmie, who worked the club’s grounds and was also a part-time EMT. Jimmie had stuck an IV into his left forearm, and he felt a cold pack on his forehead.

“You gave us a bit of a scare, boy. I must say you’re looking much better at the moment. Your skin was bright red. It seems your color is returning to normal now. Did you take it too hard last night?”

“No. I slept almost all day and night yesterday. The sun…it feels like it’s roasting me. Could I develop an allergy to the sunlight?”

“Well, there is a condition known as Solar Urticaria that is an allergic reaction to sunlight. I got a cousin that had it, but it usually causes a rash. It seems all of your exposed skin turned red. I couldn’t make a prognosis myself. You should see your doctor about it, though.”

Just then, old McMarren came into the room. Mr. McMarren was the club manager and a feisty ole coot, but fair to his caddies and employees.

“How is he? How are you, son?”

“He’ll be ok, I think. He should get some rest for a day or two and maybe check with his doctor. Says the sun is bothering him, and his skin sure seems to be reacting to sunlight.”

Mr. McMarren shook his head and looked at the kid, “Ok then. Son, I want you to go home and rest a couple of days. You’ll be no good to me out there falling out on our clients, scaring them half to death. And get yourself checked out. Let me know your condition in a couple of days. I got enough fella’s to cover for you.”

“Thank you, Mr. McMarren. Could I get a ride home? Not feeling like waiting on the bus.”

“Jimmie, would you give the kid a ride?”

“Sure thing, boss. Keep that IV in, kid, and I’ll be back in 10 to get you.”

Fifteen minutes later, he was in a club van getting a ride from Jimmie.

“Thank God for tinted windows,” he said, sitting in the passenger seat.

“The sunlight bothers you that much, huh?”

“Sure does. Do you think I could be becoming a vampire?”

Jimmie laughed, “Come on, kid. You don’t seriously believe that do you?”

He laughed along with Jimmie, but he couldn’t help thinking about the girl he had messed around with. Once back at his apartment, he made sure to cover his bedroom window again. He also stripped down and started checking his entire naked body for any marks while standing in front of a mirror. He found none.

“Vampires. How silly,” he told his self as he hopped into bed. He awoke in a cold sweat at 11 pm according to the clock next to his bed. He was shaking and seeing flashes of some crazy dream he was having. As he calmed down, he noticed that he felt strong and full of energy. He felt an uncontrollable urge to return to the house he had found himself in the night before last. He got up, got dressed, then headed out.

He walked down the street in the dark of the night feeling extraordinary. He could hear and see far more vividly than ever before. He could hear the passionate sounds of a couple, two blocks away on a park bench, making out with one another. He could see other people at a distance clearly and feel their hearts pounding in their chests. The sensations began to be overwhelming, so much so that he started jogging toward his destination. He had no problem relocating the place; it was almost as if GPS was guiding him to the destination. He got to the entrance door and stood in front of it, noticing that the door was blood red. The address number read 777, and the door clicked ajar as he stood staring at it.

He heard a voice within his head, “Come in.” He crept through the door into the dark interior. As soon as he was past the entrance, the door closed behind him by an unseen force. The door across the room, next to the grandfather clock, opened. Smoke rolled out of the darkened entrance. The dark hall began to glow red then the beauty he had met that fateful night stepped out of the red glow wearing only her ruby red lipstick and a look that would kill. The kid stood in stark terror but soon felt a warm comfort come over him.

“Are…are we vampires?” he asked in a shaken ton. e

“Ha-ha-ha…vampires, aren’t they cute. No, my sweet. We are children of the night! And now you are one of us. Come, join us.”