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Then I see him approach the final slayer, the one he’d knocked out earlier but hadn’t had the chance to kill. The man remains unconscious as Ethan walks slowly toward him, he takes what appears to be a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and begins dabbing blood from his face and hands. At this moment I know that I can’t let him kill that last slayer, I can’t watch as he takes another life.
It is for this very reason that I put my hand on the door handle and pull it
open. The very instant I’m outside and standing on the concrete ground Ethan whips his head around, his eyes are still red, while the black veins are slowly fading.
“GET BACK IN THE CAR!” he commands.
“Don’t kill him Ethan, he’s no threat to you anymore,” I beg, tears stream down my face as I peer at the five lifeless bodies lying on the ground.
“I have to,” he says, but this time his voice sounds a fraction less cold. I would almost venture to say that he sounds upset.
“Ethan…”
“I said get back in the car Tegan, I have to finish this.”
I don’t know why but I run to him and place myself in the way of the unconscious slayer. I can’t bring myself to touch Ethan because I’m still frightened after seeing him kill. I put my hands out in a gesture for him to stop and try to see things from my perspective.
“Please Ethan, this is unnecessary. What difference will it make if you spare one life out of six?”
“You do not understand how this works, if I don’t kill him now he will keep coming back for me until one of us is dead.”
“Or perhaps he’ll see that you showed him mercy and change his perception of your race,” I tell him, knowing full well that this slayer will never change his mind about vampires, but I have to convince Ethan somehow to spare the man’s life.
“You’re not foolish enough to believe that are you?” he asks, seeing right through me.
I try another angle. “Well even so, aren’t you ashamed of what you’ve done? I know that you could have killed these men in a much less violent manner, and yet you chose to rip out their throats, even feed from them as they died.”
For a moment I see unmistakable shame flicker in his blue grey eyes, the red now gone completely.
“You understand nothing…” he says, but his voice betrays his defeat. He looks to the man, as if making up his mind on what to do with him. “I may be being foolish, but I will let him live if that is what you want.”
“It is,” I say, my voice jittery from fear and adrenaline.
“Very well then,” says Ethan, he turns slowly and walks back toward his car.
“Are you just going to leave them like this? Won’t somebody find the bodies and call the police?”
“No. The DOH keeps GPS tracking devices in all of their vehicles. Once they see that this van has been stationary in a remote area for a long period backup will come for it. Then they will take away the bodies.”
“You seem experienced with this kind of thing.” I say, my voice hard.
“I have been defending myself and my race for a very long time, it’s only natural that I have also learned the procedures of my enemy.”
I follow Ethan back to the car, my body on autopilot. I have no idea why I’m getting back into a vehicle with a man who has just committed an obscene act of violence before my very eyes. But in my gut I know that though he may be a monster, he will not harm me. All the same I get in the back seat. I can’t be close to Ethan right now. His clothes are drowned in blood, and I can smell its salty, coppery scent.
“I will take you home now,” he tells me in a quiet voice, and for the rest of the journey we sit without speaking to one another.
Chapter Seven
Minus the Rose Tinted Glasses
Somewhere along the journey from that abandoned, blood-soaked industrial estate my rational mind kicks in. For at least ten minutes I sit in the back seat of Ethan’s car, unmoving, not hearing, not seeing, barely even breathing. It must be the overload of information that causes me to zone out.
In a single night I have seen with my own eyes that: One: Vampires are real. Two: They drink human blood. Three: Their eyes go red and their veins go black when they feed. Four: One vampire is a match for at least six humans, could even be more. Five: They have little or no remorse about murder.
That last one is the part that really gets to me. But what could I expect from these creatures of horror stories? Back in his office Ethan had told me of his race, and he had described vampires as misunderstood beings, peace-loving even. But from what I have witnessed tonight I can see no connection between his description and the reality. In my mind one single image keeps replaying itself over and over, Ethan’s hands gripping that slayer’s neck. I had heard of the term, to rip a person’s throat out, but I had always considered the saying to be metaphorical.
After a couple of minutes I gain some focus and return to the present. I notice that Ethan has turned the radio on and “Country Roads” by John Denver is playing. The song couldn’t be more benign, but in this moment it’s terrifying. Ethan is actually humming along, like a serial killer who likes to listen to Country and Western music after a kill.
