The winter season in this place is almost over. I can tell. There are signs. Nine foot crocuses (at least nine foot compared to me) blossom by the hedgerows. The big manor house is almost empty... no giant canines... no tiny, 'two inch' people. I haven't looked, but Polidori (a newly created vampire) says the upper 'mushroom trays' in the cellar are filled with dead dried up people. They couldn't climb down. No one watered the sprouts and mushrooms or dripped water into the little, metal-lined 'stream.' They starved and died of thirst. There's a few dead humans in that glass tank on the counter too. Tillie (another newly minted vampire) goes in there. It fascinates her, the way she used to live. She runs her palm over the thick, green glass and peers inside. They're there, she knows, forever hiding beneath straw-like excelsior. She can smell them. Vampires hate stinks like that.
I go out into the fields sometimes. Look, who knows if they were ever fields. 'Fields' signifies farms. I don't know if those dog things ever grew anything there. Maybe they're just meadows. Do they have meadows in the winter time? There's no flowers, or butterflies. Who knows. I saw two mice eating a dead human. They peeled off tiny strips of what looked like beef jerky. No, not beef jerky... chicken jerky. Poor bastard, the human, I mean, must have frozen to death. Damn those mice are big. They see me. I know they see me. But I spook them. Animals feel things. Don't have words for it, but they know.... Stay away. Don't bother that one... Maybe that's what they say... or whatever it is they do.
I could kill them. I could run and go and sublimate right through them. Their bones and meat and hair and ears would fall down on the dirt like rain. But I don't do that. I let them live... What did they do?
Later, just before dark, two of them go buy.... Not mice... giant canine creatures, I mean. Not grown ones. These were juveniles..... a sad little girl, except she was eight stories high and carried a 'toddler' the size of King Kong. They don't make a sound. She wears bright yellow rubber boots. Canine creatures loved their children too, you know. I suppose the humans already got to their place, wherever that is, and killed all the other dog people. Not regular humans... vampire humans, I mean. And I have no idea how many there are.
They wouldn't listen. I tried to teach them. Don't over-kill. Once a month is enough. If you have to, take little drinks here and there... Just don't kill.....
But they do kill... And the night-gift spreads like a plague. 'Night-gift,' why do I call it that? Day doesn't scare them here. I don't know why. Maybe there is science behind it? Maybe it's not all 'spiritual.' I like to think of it that way... Me, Tomas also known as Jonathon, a vampire who still believes. I can't not believe.
What will happen here? Will they become slightly more fastidious zombies? Look how culture effects me. 'Zombies,'... I called them 'zombies.'...... Do you know what genuine Caribbean, Haitian and Creole zombies are really like? What they call 'zombies' back in my world are not zombies. I don't know what they are. But they're no more real than Thunder Cats.
It gets dark. The juvenile dog girl and her baby brother (I imagine that's who he is) come back from wherever they've been. Maybe there's a place she goes to find food?... Maybe a bush with cold, icy berries on it? I hope they survive... A world with towering dog people and chess set size humans, some of whom are vampires..... Why not?
I feel tinges sometimes... Earth tinges... vibrations really. I can tell. I know what they feel like.... the waxing and waning of the moon.
And I've been there too.
<Tomas sighs, turns and walks back into the brambles at the bottom of the hedgerow... True night falls. Stars come out. Dead leaves dance in the wind>
<more next time>
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