Escape to Coppell

“The coven is ablaze!” Sebastian stormed through the castle hallways amid the desperate cries of fleeing vampires. The popular tourist attraction recently suspected to be the secret lair of evil creatures, fell under siege.

It was great while it lasted. Scores of tourists visited the castle, eagerly emptying their pockets, excitedly walking the grounds while snapping photographs with medieval relics. The coven made a killing. Sure, some tourists traveling alone suspiciously went missing from time to time, but the veritable coven's downfall? An alarming amount of visitors left with strange marks on their necks, and they eventually found others with the same complaint. A website devoted to strange occurrences red-flagged the castle. Damn internet. In this modern-day, it didn’t take the humans long to discover a full coven of vampires dwelling below the surface. 

The sound of gunfire and explosions filled the evening sky. The castle erupted in a torrent of glowing embers illuminating the eastern European darkness. Alone, Sebastian made it to the safety of the underground passageway. Carrying a small pack of belongings, he entered the tunnel filled with wastewater and sewage, splashing knee-high, and soiling his apparel. The haunting sounds of war vividly remembered in his extended lifetime grew quieter with the tunnel reaching toward the inevitable safety of the countryside. The water’s filth caressed his lips while he quickly crawled through the turning passageway until finally a sliver of moonlight yielded the promise of escape.

At last, the riverbank. The landscape glistened with bushes and sleeping trees under the moonlight. He pushed himself to his feet, clasped his hands together, and prayed to the cloudless purple sky.

“Goddess Selene, gleaming with the pulse-less heart of Luna!” he shouted. “Shine down on me with your illustrious guidance! Grant me thy perpetual strength! Lilith, demoness of the night! Embrace me unto your breast! Lavish me in your wickedness and carry me upon on blackened wings of darkness to greater lands! I beg of thee!” Sebastian dropped to his knees, spread his arms, and closed his eyes. “Grant me thy vision!”

Coppell - suburban city outside Dallas, Texas. 

It would be an understatement to say Sebastian detested America. Inelegant, gun-happy cowboys with their ripped jeans, burgers, and diet sodas. They lacked appreciation for art and poetry. Contemporary music and opera took a distant back seat to new age sounds of rap and hip-hop. America, the last resort.

“And there be yer set of keys and the copy of yer lease.” Mrs. Johnson said, handing them to Sebastian. The transaction enabled him to walk through the door and into the one-bedroom apartment, a humbling residence from the coven he lived in for centuries. He wasn’t exactly jumping for joy.

“I appreciate your assistance. You will die a natural death.” He assured her, with the slightest of Hungarian accents. She laughed. Sebastian said the strangest things since they met two days earlier.

“Well, I sure hope so! Just lemme know if you need the elevator reserved for yer stuff. Y’all get settled in quick.”

“Y’all? If you mean ‘you all,’ I remind that, as I indicated on my lease, it will just be myself occupying the residence.”

“Oh stop, Sebastian, yer so funny.” She reached up and rubbed his shoulder. Puzzled, he lifted an eyebrow. “You have a great evening, young man.” She left. Sebastian watched her waddle away in the most unflattering baggy t-shirt and beige khaki shorts. It was just as well; Mrs. Johnson was long past her prime. The scent of hot dogs and french fries emanated from her blood.

He closed the door and walked to the balcony overlooking the dark street below. On the third level of a five-story building, the view depicted a few cars passing by quietly. Perfect.

Sebastian had little in his pack of belongings; passport, cellular phone, computer. He propped open his laptop on the kitchen counter and stood over the brightening screen. Though in need of furniture, after staying in the stuffy hotel by Dallas airport, the apartment was a welcome change. Checking his email, confirmation arrived that his bed would be delivered the next day, and after six o’clock as he specified. It's a start, he thought.

Why the States? Flights leaving Europe in the evening arrived in the US with little time difference. Vampires require the safety of nighttime passage. Strategically, the crime and death rates were abnormally high in the USA, and the poorly policed areas could serve as an all-night buffet with presumably little attention. That, and there were seats available on a direct flight to Dallas.

A knock came at the door. 

“I’m Mary-Ellen. I couldn’t wait to welcome you to the building.” The innocent young thing. Probably about thirty years old, close to what Sebastian would be if he were still mortal. She stood there, holding a piece of cake. He took it.

“Sebastian, pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

“Mrs. Johnson said you were new to the area and alone.”

“Did she now?” He leaned forward and intrusively smelled about her neck - a familiar scent, though he couldn’t place it. She smiled, pulling back before he came uncomfortably close.

“I love your accent. We don’t have a lot of foreign people here. I mean, not quite like you.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do.” Conversing casually with humans wasn’t typical, but running off alone to America; he expected this might happen. “Won’t you come in?” She looked around his frame and into the empty apartment.

“Well… I have some pork chops defrosting on the counter, and you don’t have any furniture. Maybe I’ll come back when you’re more settled in.”

“That’s acceptable.” Sebastian shut the door and went to the kitchen counter. Not having any utensils, he dug into the cake and licked the bits off his fingers. He could consume food in small amounts before becoming ill. In fact, he enjoyed dining upon fine cuisine in his mortal years and still tried new human creations periodically. The cake was bland, nothing like he tasted in Paris. 

Later in the evening, Sebastian ventured out, searching for dinner. Amid his traveling the past few days, he hadn’t fed, and felt ravished. Dawning black clothes, he approached a rowdy club a few blocks from his apartment. Walking through the parking lot, a group of young humans stood outside smoking cigarettes. 

“Yo, look at this dude.” One said. His trousers drooped unusually low, exposing his underpants. “What are you supposed to be, lord of the darkness?” The others laughed.

“An appropriate description,” Sebastian replied. “Have you seen others?” The stench of alcohol and hamburgers hung above the group. 

“Ya, at my gramma’s funeral,” one said, dawning a cap, the brim twisted halfway off-center. The boys laughed.

“You will die an unnatural death,” Sebastian promised before departing to the establishment’s entrance.

Unreasonably loud bass beat from over-sized speakers near what Sebastian interpreted to be a stage, though there were no performers other than a young man standing over a pair of record players. His head bobbed as though he was a chicken pecking at the ground. His trousers too direly needed a belt around the waist. The whole place seemed odd, and Sebastian realized that he hadn’t ventured out from the coven much in the past few decades. The need didn’t exist. With the vast amount of tourists and private parties in the castle, humans willingly brought themselves to the coven. Sure, he and the others glanced periodically at the television and internet for entertainment, especially movies about vampires, but rarely mixed with society.

He felt overdressed. His attire suited a formal ballroom, not an orgy of alcohol and incoherent drum beats. He shrugged. Feeding time approached.

Though Sebastian typically preferred dining upon females, a young woman alerted him that the room he was following her into was strictly for girls. She was quite rude in conveying the message and pointed to another door and said; ‘that’s the boy’s bathroom over there, creep.’  

Bathroom? Sebastian informed her he didn’t require bathing and did not appreciate the insinuation. Nonetheless, he investigated the boy’s bathroom.

The young man sat limply on the toilet, dazed, still in a hypnotic trance. Driblets of his vile blood visible about his neck. Sebastian stood over, pulled out his handkerchief, and gently wiped away the evidence. The boy would be fine. Sebastian even took the liberty to pull the boy’s trousers up properly around his waist. 

Despite the aftertaste, he was satisfied. Sebastian returned to his humble abode.

The next day, Sebastian awoke to a rapping upon his door. Mary-Ellen stood there, smiling, holding what Sebastian determined was a piece of patio furniture - a folding chair, and what she described as a ‘TV tray.’

“You can sit on it and prop your laptop on the table. I’m sure it’s much more comfortable than your counter-top.” He grabbed the items, looked them over, tossed them inside, and closed the door. Realizing she may interpret him as unappreciative, he quickly pulled back the doorknob. “Thank you, Mary-Ellen. It is most thoughtful of you.” Again, her scent carried. She didn’t smell of poorly processed sausage the way Mrs. Johnson did. The odor was more distinct but masked under a sweet-smelling perfume. It beckoned of familiarity and continued to puzzle Sebastian. Not that it was unpleasant. She smiled and made her way back down the hall.

Six-thirty that evening, the casket came from the funeral home. Protected by bubble wrap and brown paper, the two delivery boys struggled to get the coffin inside his apartment and into the bedroom. They smelled like pizza and vodka. They told him it was his business if he enjoyed sleeping in caskets and assured him they’d seen crazier shit. They left without remembering the visit. 

After wiping away the snack from his lips the two delivery boys provided, Sebastian checked his email and scanned the web. Messages turned up from other vampires who fled the torched coven. On the news, they attributed the burning castle as an act of vandalism/terrorism by rioting tourists. The local police covered up the incident and discredited any nonsense about the existence of vampires. All smartphone videos were removed from the net. Sebastian knew there would have been bodies everywhere. It became clear no vampires would go back. He suspected as much.

So far, no one he knew traveled to the USA, and he wasn’t about to blow his cover. Sebastian thought it best to get a fresh start and blend in with humanity, then invite the others. Humankind drove forward into a chaotic path of self-destruction. It would be only a matter of time until vampires would reign over America. A knock at the door distracted his thoughts. Mary-Ellen.

“Sebastian, I would love very much for you to have dinner with me tonight, my treat. Ya like steak? Texas is the land of BBQ if ya haven’t heard.”

Barbecue. Animal flesh, charred over coals until the blood disintegrates. What a waste.

“Perhaps. I would like to acquaint myself with Coppell and its inhabitants. You have been so kind.” He thought momentarily. “How can I decline an offer such as that? I’ll grab my coat.” 

Sebastian dawned his black suit jacket over his white tuxedo shirt and looked every bit out of the ordinary as one might see in Coppell. She noticed, of course.

“Yes, I realize I’m in dire need of expanding my wardrobe. I traveled lightly from Europe.” He followed Mary-Ellen to her conveyance.

Sebastian’s eyes drooped upon reading the words ‘Squeelin’ Hog BBQ Shack.’

“This is the hottest place in town, and I mean literally. They got all kinda spicy sauces and other hot stuff like flammin’ chili.”

“I can hardly contain my excitement.”

“Ya like corn on the cob? They wrap it in bacon and drench it in garlic butter.”

“Garlic? Heavens no. I must abstain from anything that features garlic as an ingredient. It arouses the most unsightly rash upon my skin.”

“No problem. You look pretty pale as it is, Sebastian. Must rain a lot where you’re from.”

Sebastian sampled as much BBQ as he could stomach without poisoning himself. Mary-Ellen even talked him into trying some beer. He later switched to a rather distasteful wine they referred to as ‘house red,’ but it suited his palette more than the lager.

“Inquisitive one, aren’t you?” 

“Well, like I said; we don’t get a lot of foreigners here from Europe, ya know. I want to hear all about your travels. What made you come to America?”

“Let’s just say I needed a change of pace, shall we? I’ve always heard America is the Land of Opportunity.”

“And BBQ, don’t forget that!” She held up a drumstick, hand covered in sauce. Sebastian could smell her body odor as her perfume wore off. Her scent - so different from the others, but unmistakably familiar. He leaned closer.

“What is it you do to source income, Mary-Ellen?”

“Income? I work in an animal shelter. We find strays permanent homes. Mostly cats and dogs.” 

“That’s it.” He leaned back. “I suspected an unhumanly stench under your perfume. It is a canine-like odor. I have an impeccable sense of smell.” Mary-Ellen withdrew. Her face turned a shade of embarrassment. 

“Oh… that’s nice you can smell real well.” She looked away.

“I apologize, I did not intend to convey the aroma as offensive. On the contrary, I find the bouquet quite enticing. One could describe it as; animal magnetizing.” He sipped the wine and winked. Their eyes met, Sebastian performed a bit of his magic, and she appeared in a trance-like state.

“What were we talking about?” she asked.

“About how ravishing you look amid the discarded chicken bones. The lovely scent of your perfume and how I should be so privileged to immerse myself about your neck.”

“Oh my,” she blushed. “You’re so charming.”

“Guilty as charged. I find you the most elegant of ladies, Mary-Ellen. The angelic manner in which the BBQ sauce drips from your chin, the divine way in which you tear the flesh off your hog ribs. Delicate hands, stained in honey-mustard condiment. A chicken, rack of ribs, four sausages, and yet still room for a full pitcher of lager. Why, I find myself struggling to resist the temptation to request your accompaniment to my apartment after, perhaps for a little dessert?” he said, maniacally.

“Oh Sebastian, I shouldn’t. But… there’s supposed to be a full moon tonight. It would be romantic if we watched it from your balcony.”

“I shall purchase the six-pack.”

The return drive back to the apartment building left Sebastian feeling the need to expel the contents of his stomach to make room for the sweet dessert Mary-Ellen would provide. He hoped she tasted pleasant, and better than the young man he fed upon a night earlier.

Mary-Ellen indulged in lager while commenting on Sebastian’s odd choice for sleeping comfort.

“Never heard of anyone sleeping in a coffin before, unless you’re some kinda vampire,” she joked.

“Bleh, bleh, I vant to suck your blood - bllleehhh!” They both laughed. She wouldn’t remember anything after he feeds.

“There’s something you should know, Sebastian.” The classical melody played from his laptop, connected to YouTube. He stood behind her, swaying Mary-Ellen’s hips to the concerto, romanticizing his meal while drawing his fangs closer to her neck. She pulled away and approached the curtained sliding glass door leading to the balcony. 

“Wait, Sebastian. I kinda have a teeny bit of a secret.” He furrowed his brow. 

“Go on.”

“Well, you see, I kinda suspected you might be different, that’s why I came to your door when you moved in.” Intrigued, Sebastian listened.

“And that little hypnotic thingy you do with your eyes? It doesn’t actually work on me.” Smiling, she waved him closer to the balcony. “It’s a full moon out.” Mary-Ellen withdrew the curtains and the glow of the moon penetrated the room.

“Like you, Sebastian, I also have a great sense of smell.” Her body twitched and jolted. “And I know a vampire when I smell one.” Sebastian stepped back, bore his fangs, and hissed. Mary-Ellen’s clothes tore from her body as she doubled in size. Her nose elongated and the wolf-jaws burst out from her face. Claws grew, hair and muscle erupted, and she dove at the vampire. Sebastian tried to fight back, but Mary-Ellen snatched him by the throat and repeatedly bit down on him, over and over, until his head lay severed by the kitchen. Diving on all fours toward the moonlit balcony, she howled with the fresh kill still dripping from her mouth.

“A vampire in the suburbs, ha!” Mary-Ellen said, returning to human form. She grabbed her ripped clothes, the last of her six-pack, and went back to her apartment.