The Vampire of Suburbia

Ruben shuts the blinds when the first rays of sun come up.  

He was rich once. He lived in a manor, was an elite, wore heavy clothing to stuffy parties. A manor which he could no longer afford to maintain and had sold to the historical society. He was using the money to buy a house a little ways out of city. 

Ruben, with his keen hearing, can pick up the sound of every car passing by, hear the very inner workings of the engine. Jadness, Ruben’s familiar, the man who Ruben feeds off, sits on the bed: back against the headboard, spindly knees pulled up against his narrow chest. Jadness, sensing his master’s discontent, reaches into his backpack and tosses Ruben a pair of headphones. 

“Thank you,” sighs Ruben as he catches them and plugs them into his phone. 

 Ruben doesn't understand the progression of music. It isn’t really  worth listening to these days. He grew up on symphonies and never quite adjusted to cheap pop. He used to go to the opera, back when he was human, but now it’s too hard to control himself around those hundreds of bodies and flesh and blood. But not all new music is a waste. He likes the Beatles, Blackbear, and Dolly Parton, and, although he would never admit it to anyone, not even Jadness, Jolene is his favorite song. He turns it on, and let’s Dolly’s voice wash away the cars outside. He lets the song repeat a couple times. He paces his motel room, feeling the restlessness oozing from his pores. 

Jadness’s voice cuts through his reverie. “Master, please sleep.” 

“Alright.” Ruben runs his hands through his black hair. “Go out, get yourself a coffee, or take a stroll. You are looking pale.” 

“Probably your fault.” Jadness smiles fondly at his master. Ruben has been with him for the past ten years, ever since Jadness was a half-starved teenage runaway. He owes his life to the vampire. “You keep me in so many mornings.”  

“Go, go!” Ruben insists. “Just let me know when the realtor emails us back. Feel free to wake me up.” 

Ruben hasn’t slept in a coffin since his burial and he falls asleep on the spongy motel bed before Jadness has even finished putting on his shoes. The dead don’t dream, so it feels like Jadness awakens him only seconds later. The man is dancing about crying, “Master Ruben! Master Ruben! They closed the deal! The house is yours!” 

Xxx 

The young mother with a child at her side and a plate of cookies in her hand had the brightest, most piercing smile.  

“Welcome to the neighborhood!” she chirped, thrusting the cookies on Jadness. “My name is Margret!” 

“Oh, uh, hello!” he stammers, surprised but not unhappy to see another human. He is friendly but doesn’t talk to people other than Ruben often.  

“We leave right across the street and saw you moving in the other night.” Margret, now relieved of the cookies, picked up the child and bounced her on her hip. “I thought I’d come and say hello. And invite-” 

A call comes from deeper in the gloom of the house: “Who is at the door?” 

“A neighbor,” calls Jadness cheerfully. 

 It is an overcast day and, with every blind drawn, the house is very dark. It is almost as though Ruben materializes from this dark, like it holds onto him a second longer than it should. He has just awoken and is dressed in a long white sleepshirt. 

For a second, Margret looks taken aback by this thin, pale creature, but she regains her smile quickly. “I hope I didn’t wake you.” 

The child, which can’t be older than three takes one looked at Ruben and burst into tears. She buries her face in Margret's neck and sobs, clutching her shirt with chubby fists. 

“Oh, Sammy,” soothes Margret. “What’s the matter?” She looked at the pair standing in the doorway over the child’s head. “I’m so sorry. She’s normally very sociable.” 

Ruben shook his head, even though the crying pierced his ears. “No, it is quite alright. My name is Ruben, and this is my, uh,” he glances quickly at his familiar, “my partner, Jadness. It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

“She must need a nap,” sighs Margret, rocking the child gently. “But I would love it if you two could book club on Saturday night. No pressure on actually reading the book. I’m thinking this will be a more of a meet and greet with some other couples.” 

“We will have to see if we are available,” says Ruben, knowing that it will be difficult for him to go to a human's house. At the same time as adrenaline bursts through him. The fact that he's been invited to something for the first time in three hundred years. “Actually, we’ll be there!” 

"We will?!" asked Jadness, eyes shooting up.

"We will."

“Wonderful!” Margret smiles brightly. “Be there at eight!” 

Xxx 

It’s past midnight and, on nights like this in November, the temperature drops below freezing. Most people have drained their pools in preparation for winter, but Ruben isn’t a person, so he swims.  

Jadness sits on a deck chair in an over coat, watching the shine of the underwater lights leave a bluish sheen on his master’s skin. Ruben lies on the tile bottom of the pool, eyes open, staring up at the night sky through eight feet of water. Slowly, gently, he floats to the surface and exhales softly.  

“Are you cold, Jadness?” he asked. Since moving in, the two of them have been in much closer quaters and have spent much more time together.

His familiar shrugs. “A little.” 

He watches Ruben pull himself up out of the water. Although, the sun burns the vampire’s skin, he thrives in moonlight. Tonight, his pale skin seems to glow. Or perhaps that’s just due to the water dripping off him. 

Ruben is not a handsome man. Although in the past three hundred years he has not physically aged past thirty-five, his eyes carry the weary weight of the past few centuries. He is too tired to be handsome. Young but too old. He is not a handsome man, but the familiar finds him beautiful. 

“Do you need to drink, Master?” he asks.  

In Jadness’s darkest fantasies, Ruben has turned him and the two live together forever. He has the most intimate connection to the vampire: Ruben taps his blood. Ruben needs him to survive. But  still, Jadness wants to be closer. He knows Ruben will never turn him. Becoming a vampire is so painful, it could  break your mind.  And once you become one, it’s a long, long eternity. 

“That would be lovely.” 

Ruben watches with his black eyes as Jadness draws a small knife from his coat. “Where do you want to drink from?” 

Ruben thinks for a moment. “Stomach.” 

The is a light burst of pain as Jadness pulls up his shirt and draws the knife across the exposed skin. The line of blood appears black in the darkness. Ruben falls upon him, kissing the skin gently before licking the blood. His saliva numbs the wound and will keep it from scaring. Jadness lies back in the deck chair, watching the stars wheel above him. Being drunk from by a vampire feels euphoric.  

Jadness has a secret. He has a secret that he knows is true with every fiber of his being and at the same time, his body wants to reject it like a virus. He loves the vampire. It’s as simple and complex as that. He loves Ruben utterly and completely with the same rabid devotion an oasis loves the desert. 

Xxx 

Jadness looks at the vampire, reclined on the sofa in a full suit. “Master, you’re, uh, going to need to dress down a bit. You know people don’t really dress like that anymore.” 

“I’m not a person,” says Ruben, “so I don’t need to dress like one.” 

“Yeah,” sighs Jadness, “but you want them to think you are. Come on, Master Ruben. Be rational.” 

“I refuse to sink to that level. I will wear what I want to wear. I am your master, Jadness. Ultimately, what I say goes.”  

“You are impossible,” Jadness says. “I wish you had left the manor more often. Then maybe you would have a slight grasp on modern society.” 

“Let’s just focus on getting through this evening and hope she doesn’t have any mirrors in her living room,” says Ruben. Despite his gruffness, the vampire is actually quite excited. It has been centuries since he’s attended a social event. He’s not a new vampire anymore. He can control himself around this much blood.  

As they cross the street to Margret’s house, Jadness slips his hand into Ruben’s.  

“What are you doing?!” cries Ruben, whipping his hand free as though burned. 

“Master, Master, they think we’re a couple! We need to act like one.” 

“Right. Apologies, Jadness. I am just not use to physical contact outside of feeding.” Reluctantly, the vampire lets his familiar take his hand as they mount the steps to Margret’s porch. Ruben raises his free hand and knocks smartly. 

“Hi!” Margret opens the door, a man at her shoulder. “This is my husband, Dave.” 

“Pleased to meet you!” Dave extends his hand, but Ruben is unable to take it so Jadness does. Dave's eyes briefly scan Ruben's suit. "You look... formal."

“I believe in dressing up. May we come in?” the vampire asks. 

“Oh, yes, of course.” Margret waves them in. Ruben smiles graciously as he steps over threshold.

The living room is nice and modern with a the chairs and couches arranged in a semicircle.

"There is a mirror over the fireplace," Jadness hisses through his hiss. "Stay to the edge of the room."

The vampire and familiar sit together on the couch, fingers interlaces. Ruben feels Jadness's palm grow slippery. The man is nervous, but to Ruben it feel like a game. He is hungry. He can hear the blood moving in their human veins all sweet and thick and hot. But he smiles, graciously declines the charcuterie boards, and charms them all. He has his neighbors laughing, smiling, forgetting that there is anything odd about him.

Xxx  

 Ruben likes to walk at night. He used to wander through the tangled wildness of his garden, but now he walks the streets. He follows the sidewalks for miles, passing row after row of clean little houses, some glowing with warmth and light. The sun may burn his skin, but the vampire likes the honeyed glow of candles and electricity. Christmas is coming and many of the houses sport wreaths and strings of lights.

He can see families moving behind the glass, like a suburban zoo. Families sit in front of the flickering tv and eat dinner together. Sometimes a window is open and he can hear snatches of conversation or laughter. Ruben had a family, a brother. He misses them. Jadness is the closest thing he has left.

The biting winter wind lifts strands of his long dark hair. What would those families think if they saw him looking in?

Living forever is so very lonely. Jadness is not his first familiar. There were other man. Some women. They died, left him, lost their minds to the euphoria of feeding and desire from him to change them.

Ruben knows how bad Jadness wants to be turned but he never will. The vampire doesn't want to burden him with immortality.

He knows his familiar loves him.

And this love scares him.

Xxx  

Ruben is awakened by Jadness gently shaking him. 

“Mater Ruben, are you alright?” 

“Yes?” He is confused but not annoyed. “Why would I not be? Is it night yet?” 

Jadness suddenly looks embarrassed. “No, it’s 2 pm. But you were talking in your sleep. I figured it might be a nightmare.” 

“Jadness, you know I cannot dream.” 

The embarrassment intensifies, his familiar’s cheeks flushing a delicate pink. “I’m sorry. I forgot.” 

“It’s alright. What was I saying?” 

“Something in French.” 

Over the years, Ruben has learned to speak many languages, but French is his first. He immigrated from his birthplace in France to the manor when he was a little boy. He misses the manor. How he wishes he’d been able to upkeep it. But really it was for the best. The historical society will take good care of it and this suburban house with a pool and heavy curtains could be worse. 

“Any idea what it was?” 

Jadness shakes his head. There’s a pause before the familiar asks, “Do you miss dreaming?” 

What a strange question. 

“I suppose. It’s been so long I don’t even remember what it’s like.” 

“That’s sad,” says Jadness. 

“Lots of things are sad about becoming a vampire,” sighs Ruben. “Everyone who knew me thought I was dead. I could not go out in public. The sun which used to feel so comforting now burns and tears. I spent my first few months near mad with the pain of my body changing, of my very genetic code rearranging, then the next near mad with hunger. I did not know how to blood a person without killing him. I am not proud of those times.” 

Jadness doesn’t know how to respond. His master hardly even speaks of the past. It is very painful for him. “Master...” 

“Please do not call me ‘Master’ anymore, Jadness. You are my familiar, but you are more than that as well and... Well, you calling me that has not sounded right for a while.” 

“What should I call you then?” 

“Just Ruben is fine.” 

Jadness smiles. “Alright, Ruben. I like this.” 

This the vampire takes his familiars hand. “Remind me what it’s like to dream.” 

So Jadness lies down beside him, their breath mingles: his warm and the vampire’s cold, as he tell Ruben about what makes him human.