Rico

I hated not being in the action. My partner had taken my place and, strangely, seemed to enjoy it. Her usually snapper persona faded away as quickly as my dreams. She slipped into the teaching role like a glove and even enjoyed how each student reached out to them. Her constant statements about the students were not only annoying, they were worse because of my inaction. I, however, sat in a new safe house in the middle of a mess of papers, reports, and notes ranging from logical topics to information on the “Dreamlands.” Slipping my coffee, I read through my partner's statements around Victor like a judge. Something rallied her, and she wasn’t alone.

Those monsters hovered over him and slowly they molded him to their liking. Then he changed. Before he was a crude bastard of a child who would be the classic shit poster, the one friend that was always watched was gone. But he was whipped and eating out of his hands.

They made him formal. Rico had no better way to describe it. Somehow, they sanded down all the rough edges of his persona. Black loafers that always glistened in the light replaced his constant sneakers. Hell, he looked clean and ready for the world. In any other case, it would have been a miracle and damned divine revelation. But those things were involved.

Victor was different. But unlike the scales, it was better hidden. Those little things that are only on reflection would be weird. His eyes were too quick to dilate, his fingers were too narrow, forming into his fingers into a claw-like appendage. Those once dirty nails were now too clean, sharp, and slightly angular. Like a claw. Most people would never notice that, and not even almost jumpy readies to action was weird. Most of the changes could be written off as nerves or his antisocial personality.

But I knew the truth. I saw the truth, the strange new intensity of his eyes, the sudden changes to his very body. He became like them, an inhuman monster. I hope to get to him before everything when fubar.

Then it got worse. The report was brutal, as it was brief. Four new students appeared at the school. Of the four none were human. Two were humanoid, but the soft factor of those little things gave it away. The blood was too vivid, and the eyes were not quite right. The edges of the iris had a bit too many red pigments, like a tattoo. But I knew the truth. It was blood, but the dead giveaway was the reaction to water. Like an acid, it burned the two, but the worst was the girl.

Static cling hung over her very body like a god damned spirit. The worst was the strange strength she showed. She not only crushed a coin in her hand, but bent a railing by grasping it. She was just a dumb muscle. The name was given; Victoria Lanchester. The last name of an actress. Who played the bride of Frankenstein ; it was a wonder she wasn’t already found out.

The other one passed all the tests, but there was a lack of any irregularities or variations. No heartbeat changes, no pressure spike, nothing that would suggest stress. It suggested nothing at all. It is the perfect chameleon, with no changes or even issues. But that was the problem. Most people had slight fluctuation changes in some glucose levels and other preserves. This thing didn’t change at all. No matter the time of day or moment, it had the same blood pressure, sugar content and even blinking levels.

As I scanned through the reports from my new safe outside, something caught my eye. That one girl with red highlights matched another report. Scrambling up from my table, I dashed over to another stack of paper. Those lay across from the kitchen, among the other major report notes and information from that cult.

It was helpfully finally opening my eyes to the monster that stalked that town and the genuine danger of the world. It also involved many weird things, with notes as old as those in the USA. Yes, as old as the country with stranger inscriptions and drawn images of events that would be right at home in the old pulps. The muscle-bound hero facing the monster that would rule those classic 1-dollar pulps.

It even put a name to that monster the new arrival was a vampire. Any specialist I had that something could not exist. After dark gods and nightmares from beyond reality, a mere vampire wouldn’t be out of range. But I found that the term vampire needs a scholarly review and a new edition.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Thousands of entries that all matched the idea of a vampire. At least half contradict each other, some feeding of differing things. Some like bone marrow, some like blood, some like the sparks from someone's mind. If it were ten months ago, I would have tossed it and turned my badge after the third mentioned of virgins. But now I had seen crazier, and this was just plain interesting. After three hours of reviewing about a century's worth of notes, I had gathered four major points.

The first of the major lines of vampires was a damned monster. This then branched out to strange new monsters, but they all seemed to be “vampires “. That trend seemed to extend to all the vampires a broad cauterization with strange subspecies. The oldest lines were the most monstrous and seemed to be around from prehistory, the oldest note coming from at least Romans.

An ape-like group of monsters, with elongated limbs and strong brutal hands who seemed to enjoy women ripping each of the flesh of men, all the accounts were hellish. Luckily there was a translation of it, but the litthim was not pretty or at least had a poor publicist. They seemed to prefer to eat people without being pitchy about what. Honestly, they would be closer to ghouls. But that was another race of nightmares and were much more pitiable than this kind of vampire. The strange fact is most of these vampires were, well, hybrids. Something was mixed with human DNA and it was not pretty. This then led to the middle child, who was in some ways weirder than ape men.

The middle child seemed to be over the east with reports reaching from China, to Japan all the way to the Fuji islands. Mostly they seemed more human but preferred most body mutations and even when to get blood. Hell, some didn’t want blood, with weird cravings. Some preferred tears, some liked brain matter, and one specific kind enjoyed semen. One notable hopping version even took souls. Each kind had it own lore method of collecting victims and there were rarely any survivors. That was not as common as the first line but they seemed to enjoy leaving dead. However, they also seemed to have methods of enslaving them, and notable names of some individuals with pictures that were last dated 2019. Finally, that left the youngest version, which was the hardest to believe.

It was a trove of tropes cliché and horror stories that had vampires. All the generic vampire information fits them. Holy water, crosses and the silver the whole nine yards that seemed kinda boring. Besides, the fangs and minor alterations to iris fingers and markings on the body they could have passed for humans. Perhaps that was the point they could be anywhere and in an age that had little faith they were much more dangerous.

The powers were also far stronger than the myths. No mere wolf they would become a pack of wolves or a whole fog cloud. At least the older ones. They had two major sources of food, energy, blood and people. Like the needy young brats, this line seemed to be filled with the always gravity to places of power in the world, or at least nearby it.

Reading it, I noticed the monsters had a need for humans. That was reassuring somewhat, but the why changed from line to line. Whether for food or offspring and other nightmares, it was always there. But not as important, more so just things in the background. They were never truly a major threat, more a nuisance that people and groups had to deal with once in a while.

As I read through, a sudden wind blew through my house. Swiftly turning, I found something staring at me. Those blood-red eyes with a strange fang maw that smirked at me. Watch me like a fool, like prey to be devoured. I fled, dashing away from it with my hand on my pistol. Clearly, if it wanted me, it would have to do so behind my bullets.

Falling behind the counter, I took the safety off the 9 millimeter and held the gun. Peeking upwards, I saw the damned eyes staring, looking at me like a damned hound. Those pins of red hellish light, that saw me, with the blood, sweat, and tears of the world that shook me. So that was it, I thought, frantically reaching into my cabinet. Vampires were not a major nightmare they were a personal. Not to groups of people, but a simple one-to-one, much like a bullet to bomb.

With my hand on the bag, I ducked to the left, avoiding a chilly wind that chilled my bones. Was this harassment or some beginning of a power? Who knew, but I didn’t like it either way.

Sliding my safety back on, I took a much more effective weapon to deal with the undead. With a pop of the bag, I threw out the crystalized substance forward, forcing the nightmare away. Salt was the last through line of the vampires. It ranged from a brutal burning acid to horrible irritation to basically a potent narcotic. The third line of Vampire is basically pepper spray and boy, did it do wonders.

That smirking fog went from a smug pride to burning outrage. It screamed full of rage, burning bloody fury that would have a special place in my nightmares. It would be a bloody miracle if I ever got a good sleep again. Well, that was for the pills to solve. That wail that came from the pit of hell lasted a minute, rallying my very bones. Then, with another gust of wind, it was gone.

Inching back away from the counter I shivered, bitterly looking away front where the monster. It was purely involuntary, like looking away from a murder. But before I could spiral down, an alert rang from my phone. Fishing it out of my pocket, I merely gazed at the text.

“Welcome back to the field. You going back tomorrow.”

Grinning despite myself, I knew what was first to be done. Clean this house then deal with monsters one step at a bloody time.