Free The Blood Detail (Vigil) by Arvin Loudermilk Page B

around me, watching my every move tantalizingly. After a while, I attempted to crawl away, in hopes of reaching my .22. But whenever I could create any distance between the two of us, Jessup would grab whatever appendage of mine was closest and drag me back to the spot where he had knocked me down. This went on for several minutes. I screamed and screamed, yet no one came out to help me. My predicament became crystal clear. If I was to survive, it was going to be on my own.
    “Do you want me?” I said, my attempt at speech was strained and garbled. “You can have me if you want. Just come closer. I want you, too.”
    “Not stupid,” he said in his creepy drawl. “You’ll get me if I get too close.”
    He was right about that, but I planned to get him either way. The .22 was my secret, my lifeline. He just needed to be within a foot or so, and I could put one right into his head.
    “Tying ya up would do no good,” he said. “Going to need to break you.”
    I had no idea what that even meant, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I reached down for my ankle, but he was reaching for it at the same time—and he was a lot quicker than I was. In a single twist of his wrist, he flipped me over and brought his fist down on the base of my spine. The blow was hard and solid, and I felt nothing below the waist afterward. Maybe I yelled out in pain, maybe I didn’t. But how could I have not? Breathing heavily, he lifted me up by the scruff of my neck and struck me in the back again, this time dead center between the shoulder blades. I could no longer feel my arms or my neck. When he set my paralyzed body back down in the grass, he did so gently. I don’t know how I stayed conscious, but I did.
    He left me where I was and returned to the rose bushes where Beth’s body had fallen. He began gathering up flowers, and did not stop until his arms were full. I watched him, and all I could think about was the prospect of him eating me. I knew that was what he was going to do. I’d have done anything for that gun around my ankle. If I could still move, I’d have put it right into my mouth and just pulled the trigger.
    He returned with his arm full of flowers and let them fall around me. He appeared to be unhappy with the inadvertent arrangement, so he spread them out more carefully, making sure most of the bunch were surrounding my head in a halo pattern.
    “Mine,” he said. “You’re mine.”
    I did belong to him—he was right. Vampires were real, and I was seconds away from being devoured. I’d never been a crier by nature, not in the slightest, but I was sure I’d been doing exactly that since I had been knocked down. My cheeks felt wet and my eyes were burning.
    Jessup squatted down above me and nudged my arms away from my body with his knees. Straddling my torso, he started to dig around in the pockets of his overcoat until he had found what he had been searching for—a hunting knife, about six inches in length. I thought the exposed blade was for me, but he slipped off his duster and used it on himself, cutting a foot-long gash from his wrist to the crook of his forearm. Blood began to gush outward. He tilted my head back and forced open my mouth. I tried to bite down on him, but his grip was unbelievably powerful. Whispering sweet nothings into my ear, he maneuvered his opened arm over my face and allowed the blood to drain into me. I choked as the hot liquid drizzled down my gullet. Once my mouth had been filled, he jammed my jaw closed and leaned in and kissed my reddened lips. I was just about to black out when I swallowed. I didn’t want to, but I did. He grunted his pleasure at my ingestion and snaked both hands around my neck and squeezed, crushing my airway as if I were nothing.
    I died there on my back. I died there utterly alone.

When tragedy occurs, people tend to feel the need to ask why. Not me. It’s a waste of time. Bad things happen, that’s just the way of the world. Sometimes you die, sometimes you