The Thirst, Page 2

They had breakfast in silence as they always did the couple of days leading up to his birthday. The eggs tasted like rubber to Benny. The coffee tasted like water and the toast tasted like cardboard. Nothing felt right this time of year. Nothing could please him or bring him joy.

  Emma glanced at him. He dragged his fork across his plate as he forced himself to chew the rubber and cardboard food. She had to get his mind off his approaching birthday.

  “I heard Jolene and her husband got divorced.” Emma said.

  She wanted to break the horrible silence and mentioned the first thing that came to mind.

  “Who are they again?” Benny asked.

  “Jolene and Paul.” Emma said assertive, “We went to their wedding two years ago? She wore a pink wedding dress.”

  Benny seemed uninterested in the topic.

  “Really?” Benny said mundane, “I don’t recall.”

  “You don’t recall?” Emma said surprised, “You don’t recall watching a woman walk down the aisle wearing a neon pink wedding dress?”

  Benny thought for a moment and then asked, “Is Paul the one with the mole?”

  “You don’t remember the pink wedding dress,” Emma asked, “But you remember the mole? Paul had that removed after the wedding. How do you recall the mole and not the wedding dress?”

  “The mole was distracting.” Benny said.

  “More than the wedding dress?” Emma asked, “My eyesight deteriorated after that wedding. All I could see for a week afterwards was pink.”

  Emma giggled. Benny faked a smile and got up.

  “I have to get to work.” Benny said, “I have a patient coming in early for a checkup.”

  Emma nodded and said, “Sure.”

  He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead before walking to the basin. He placed his plate in the basin and left through the back door.

  Emma sat for another moment before getting up. She hated seeing him depressed like this.

  2

  Benny’s day consisted of the same old boring routine for the last fifteen years. He would get to his office; the unpretentious receptionist would greet him without really looking at him and give him his morning coffee. Then about ten minutes later the first patient of the day would come in for a consultation.

  His life was boring. It was always the same with his patients – it was either a tummy ache, cold or flu. The only thing that kept him from blowing his brains out was the fact that he did not own a gun – something he reconsidered buying quite a few times.

  The days seemed long and pointless as he listened to his patients complain about their aches and pains. He would then do a checkup and find that it was something stupid as indigestion. Sometimes he felt like shaking them with all his might until they simply disintegrated and disappeared into a dust cloud – aches, complaints and all.

  His Monday was just as boring as ever and by lunch time he simply had enough of the same old routine. He got up and walked over to the receptionist.

  “Cancel my appointments for the rest of the day.” Benny said.

  “Doctor Smith?” The receptionist seemed confused.

  It was the first time he had ever asked her to cancel his appointments, but he needed to take an extended lunch.

  “I’m going out to lunch.” Benny said mundane, “And I doubt that I will return. You can lock up and go home if you want to.”

  The receptionist still seemed confused, but nodded.

  “Right.” She said as he left.

  Benny had no idea what he would do for the rest of the afternoon, but enjoyed the much needed change. He stepped out of the building and soaked up the sun. He spotted a vendor in the park across the street. He always wondered what the vendor sold, but never took the time to investigate. He was always convinced that the vendor sold food that would make any man’s stomach churn.

  He crossed the busy street with caution and entered the park. Once on the other side, he felt much more tranquil. His surroundings had a soothing effect on him. He walked over to the overweight vendor whom smiled as he approached.

  “Hi.” The vendor said, “What can I get ya?”

  It was obvious Benny had never bought anything from a vendor as he was unsure of what to order.

  “What is good?” Benny asked.

  “Everything.” The vendor laughed, “Because I made it.”

  The vendor could see that Benny was a bit down and decided to order for him.

  “I’ll give you a hotdog with a coffee.” The vendor said.

  The vendor prepared the food and then handed it to Benny. Benny paid the man.

  “Thank you.” Benny said.

  The vendor smiled as Benny walked away and over to the nearest bench.

  Benny sat down and took a bite of the hotdog. To his surprise, it was delicious. He took a sip of his coffee, and even though the weather was fine, the coffee was exhilarating.

  Maybe this is what he needed. He needed a major change in his life and the extended lunch was a nudge in the right direction.

  A youthful woman walked past him and slowed down. She looked at him as if recognizing him. She was a long cool woman in a black dress. Her red hair flowed like waterfalls across her shoulders. Her skin was silky white and her eyes a piercing green.

  “Ben?” The woman asked dumbfounded, “Benjamin Smith? It is you.”

  The woman smiled and stepped closer. She seemed very surprised to see him.

  “Oh my word.” She gasped. “Imagine running into you.”

  Benny seemed confused as to who the woman was.

  “Do I know you?” Benny asked.

  “It’s me.” The woman exclaimed, “Sarah Lauper. We went to school together.”

  Benny stared at the woman in disbelief. He vaguely remembered Sarah Lauper, but remembered that she was one of the most popular girls in school. But this could not be her. That was over twenty years ago and this woman seemed like she had barely entered her mid-twenties.

  “Sarah?” Benny said confused.

  She sat down next to him. She smiled at the thought of meeting someone from her past – mostly so that she could show off how good she looked for her age.

  “How have you been?” Benny asked.

  “I’ve been great thanks.” Sarah replied, “I started my own fashion label about fifteen years ago. Business is doing great. I’ve done fashion shows in Milan and covers for Vogue magazine. Life has been good to me. And you? What do you do?”

  “I’m a GP.” Benny replied, “My office is across the street.”

  “Do you always come out here for lunch then?” Sarah asked.

  “No.” Benny said, “This is actually the first time I’ve taken lunch in the park.”

  ”Why?” Sarah asked, “If my office was across the street from a park, I’d take lunch in the park every day. I just love nature. I have a gigantic garden at home.”

  Benny still could not get over the fact that she looked so good for her age.

  “I hope you don’t mind me saying this,” Benny said, “But you look amazing.”

  Sarah smiled and said, “Thank you. So are you married?”

  “Yes.” Benny said, “And you?”

  “No.” Sarah said, “I never got time to settle down. I am married to my work. Hardly ever see my friends. Are you still in contact with – what was his name again? Alex?”

  ”Yes.” Benny said, “Actually he’s been my neighbor for almost twenty years now.”

  “Really?” Sarah was amazed, “I knew you guys were close in high school, but thought you would have lost touch over the years. I fell out of touch with most of my friends from high school. They grew shallow and I grew up...”

  Sarah could see that Benny was feeling down. She nudged closer, which made him feel uncomfortable. Why would butterfly sit so close to a dung-beetle, he wondered.

  “What’s the matter Benny?” Sarah asked.

  “It’s just my birthday that’s coming up.” Benny said, “I’m turning forty this weekend and it feels like
my life is over.”

  ”Why do you say that?” Sarah asked.

  “I have no children.” Benny said, “I have no excitement in my life. It feels to me like I am simply nearing my expiry date without a struggle.”

  He looked at her still flabbergasted.

  “You on the other hand.” Benny said, “It seems life was a bit kinder to you.”

  “Don’t be like that.” Sarah said, “Are you down because you’re growing old?”

  Benny did not reply.

  “Growing old is part of life.” Sarah said.

  There was a moment of silence and then Sarah continued. She felt sorry for him.

  “I have to admit,” Sarah said, “I had some help looking this good.”

  She reached into her purse.

  “I tell you what.” Sarah said, “Since it’s your birthday this weekend, and I always thought you were a decent guy, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

  She handed him a business card. He glanced at the card. On the front was a big red Z and on the back was an address.

  “What is this?” Benny asked.

  “This is your second chance.” Sarah said, “You honestly don’t think I stayed looking like this all these years the natural way? Go to him and take a chance. You deserve to be happy.”

  Sarah got up and walked away without even looking back. Benny watched her as she disappeared across the street and into the horizon.

  He stared at the card for another moment and then shoved it into his inner pocket.

  3.

  That night Benny lay in bed unable to sleep. With each night his dreaded birthday drew closer. He officially belonged in the 40-50 age bracket on application forms. There was only one age bracket left after that; the 50-dead bracket. He lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. He had been counting sheep for hours, most of them went to the abattoir never to return and assist with sleep.

  Emma was fast asleep and made faint snoring sounds as she inhaled. It used to be cute, but over the years her breathing habits came to annoy him. Some nights she sounded like a beast from a horror movie.

  The night was quiet except for a lost cricket outside the bedroom window. The thought of growing older yet another year kept him awake – but even more seeing Sarah that day. He could not get over how good she looked.

  How was it possible that she seemed like she did not age a day? He pondered about it a bit and decided he would go to the address on the business card she gave him. It could not hurt just to go and have a look. Maybe her plastic surgeon could take a few years off his face.

  When dawn approached Benny was still awake. He did not sleep a wink. Emma was still fast asleep making breathing sounds like a farm tractor.

  Benny got out of the bed and got dressed. He had decided to go to the address on the business card. He had no idea where exactly it was but the address was somewhere in the city. Luckily he had GPS.

  He left the house quietly as not to wake Emma. He got into the car and entered the GPS coordinates for the address. The drive was a quick and smooth one as there was barely traffic that time of the morning.

  The GPS coordinates brought him to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. He got out of the car and stared at the rundown place. Maybe the GPS got the coordinates wrong. This place did not seem like a place anyone would come to for plastic surgery or whatever Sarah had done. It seemed like the address you would come to if you wanted to get robbed, raped and left for dead. He could just see himself dying in one of the many mud puddles that lined the parking lot. That would not be a pretty sight to behold.

  He walked across the abandoned parking lot taking care not to step in any of the many mud puddles. Every now and then he would step in a smaller surprise puddle.

  He got to the gigantic metal doors. He hesitated a moment and then knocked. There was no answer so he cautiously pushed open the door and peeked inside. The door squeaked as it opened.

  “Hello?” Benny said.

  No reply. The only sound he heard was the echo of his own voice. He stepped into the twilit warehouse. Across the extensive floor he saw an elevator with a sign next to it. He walked over to the elevator and saw the sign had the words fifth floor on it.

  “I guess that’s where I have to be?” Benny said.

  He pressed the button and a moment later the elevator doors opened. He stepped inside and pressed the button for the fifth floor. The doors closed and the elevator stared moving. To Benny it felt like like the elevator was going down, though the lights indicated the elevator was going up. When the indicator showed that he was on the fifth floor, the doors opened. He was on a floor drenched in bright light. Everything was white and bright. He stepped out and shielded his eyes to see better. At the far end of the room, he saw a desk and a high back chair. The back of the chair was facing him.

  “Hello?” Benny called out.

  “Benjamin Smith.” A male voice said, “I’ve been expecting you.”

  Ben was confused and asked, “How did you know my name?”

  The high back chair turned around revealing a man sitting in the chair. He was a tall and somewhat creepy man. His name was Zaman.

  Zaman got up and stood behind the desk as Benny approached.

  “The question is not how I know your name.” Zaman said, “The question is why do I know your name?”

  “Okay.” Benny said, “Why do you know my name?”

  “Enough with the questions.” Zaman said, “I know why you are here. You are afraid of growing old. That’s why Sarah gave you my card and that’s why you came here. You came here because you’ve dreamt of staying young. You long for your youth that have long left you behind.”

  “Yes.” Benny said, “Are you a plastic surgeon?”

  “Not exactly.” Zaman said, “I am here to warn you.”

  “Warn me about what?” Benny asked.

  Zaman stepped out from behind the desk and walked to the left of the room. A shallow pool of water covered the tiles of the floor to the left. There seemed to be no walls or windows in the room, which Benny found disturbing. The white brightness just seemed to go on and on forever in every direction. Zaman motioned for Benny to follow him over to the pool of water.

  “This is the fountain of youth.” Zaman said.

  “Fountain of youth?” Benny asked confused.

  Benny stepped closer to the pool of water. It seemed like a normal puddle of water caused by a turned over bucket. In movies the fountain of youth was spectacular. There was nothing spectacular about the puddle of water in front of him.

  “This puddle?” Benny asked, “This is the fountain of youth? Do I look that gullible to believe in the fountain of youth being a puddle, never the less believe in the fountain of youth?

  “I know it does not seem like much,” Zaman said, “But believe me when I say this is the key to eternal youth. It is the conductor between the present and the youth.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.” Benny said.

  “To get your youth back,” Zaman said, “You will have to target the youth. The life source is in your blood. And that’s why I am here to warn you. Once you step into the fountain of youth, there will be no turning back. To stay young you will have to do the unthinkable - drain the life source from the young.”

  “Drain the life source?” Benny asked rattled.

  “Don’t worry.” Zaman said, “You will not cause the death of anyone by draining their life source, but sooner or later you will come face to face with your worst enemy.”

  “And that would be?” Benny asked.

  “You are a smart man. You will figure it out.” Zaman said, “Once you enter the fountain you will have the chance to reclaim your youth, but sooner or later you will cause your own death. The choice is yours: stay as you are and die of old age or regain your youth – but… sooner or later the consequences of your actions will catch up to you.”

  Zaman stepped aside allowing Benny to make the ultimate choice; step into the unknown or stay wi
th what he knows.

  Benny stood at the edge of the pool and stared at his feet. He then stared back at Zaman.

  “The choice is yours.” Zaman said. “Youth is in the blood.”

  Benny glanced back at the pool. He took a deep breath and took a step forward. The soles of his shoes barely got submerged in the water. He took another few steps forward. With every step, his feet submerged deeper in the water. He continued walking into the pool until he was submerged to his neck.

  “You will have to take the final step now.” Zaman called out.

  Benny took a deep breath and submerged his head in the water. Benny closed his eyes and submerged his head. When he opened his eyes, he found himself standing on the sidewalk. He looked at his surroundings. He was in a suburb and it was night.

  “What the hell?” Benny whispered confused.

  His clothes were dry. The street where he stood was unfamiliar to him. As he checked out his surroundings, he noticed that the house in front of which he stood seemed to be glowing in the dark. The glow illuminated, lingered a moment and then vanished.

  What was that, he wondered. Was the glow indicating where he had to go? He was drawn to the house like a moth to a flame. He walked up to the house and once he got to the front door, he stopped. He stared at the doorknob and the doorbell. He reached for the doorbell and then hesitated. He reached for the doorknob instead.

  He turned the doorknob and the door opened. The owners forgot to lock the door. What now? Was he to enter the house? He looked over his shoulder. There was nobody around. The only thing he saw was the car in the driveway. It was an old model, but in good condition.

  He pushed open the door and stepped inside the house.

  The house was dark and quiet. He looked around, feeling a bit out of place. As he moved through the house, he heard voices whispering. The whispers were ramblings and he was not sure what they were saying.

  He walked in the direction of the whispers, which led him up the stairs. As he made his way up the stairs, the whispers became more audible. It was numerous voices washing over each other whispering come upstairs.

  As he walked along the corridor on the second floor, the whispering became louder and louder. When he reached the second door on the left, the whispering stopped. He glanced at the door and then slowly turned the doorknob. He could not stop himself. He had an uncontrollable need to open the door and continue.

  He glanced into the room. It was a teenage boy’s room. He cautiously stepped inside and walked over to the bed.

  Benny stood towering over the sleeping boy and watched as he turned onto his back. The skin in the boy’s neck tore apart as if being cut by an invisible knife. Blood started pooling up around the wound. He felt himself strangely being aroused by the sight of the warm blood.

  Not sure what he was supposed to do, Benny sat down on the edge of the bed staring at the wound. He then leaned in and licked the blood. The blood was refreshing unlike anything he had ever had. It was not long before he started sucking on the wound to get more delicious blood.

  After a while he realized that he was actually drinking another human being’s blood and pulled away. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared down at the blood smear in disgust.

  What am I doing? He thought to himself.

  Benny got up and vigilantly left the room. Though the taste of the blood was stimulating, he knew what he was doing was wrong. He had to get back to his own house and forget about what happened.

  4.

  Benny woke up in his bed next to Emma. He was drenched in sweat. What a nightmare – or at least he hoped it was a nightmare. It was obviously the stress of the approaching birthday. But oddly enough it was the first night in weeks that he slept all the way through and got a good night’s rest. He felt rejuvenated.

  It was Wednesday which meant there was one small change to his mundane life. On Wednesday mornings he went to Doctor Cunning for his weekly therapy session. It was quite pathetic that his life was so boring it caused him enough stress to go to a therapist.

  Benny got up and went to the bathroom. Like every morning he stood in front of the mirror staring at his aging reflection. He only recognized his eyes. The face that stared back was old and felt like a stranger. He was growing tired of his reflection more every day.

  He turned away from the mirror and got dressed.

  The traffic flow to work was consistent and it took him twenty minutes to get to Doctor Cunning’s office.

  Benny sat on the couch in Doctor Cunning’s office without saying a word. Finally after about five minutes of silence Doctor Cunning spoke.

  “What’s wrong?” Doctor Cunning asked.

  “I had a nightmare last night.” Benny replied, “A terribly vivid nightmare.”

  “What kind of nightmare?” Doctor Cunning asked.

  “I dreamt I was a monster.” Benny said, “I killed a boy.”

  Doctor Cunning raised an eyebrow, but kept his pose.

  “Why?” Doctor Cunning asked tranquil.

  “I don’t know.” Benny said, “I drank his blood.”

  Benny stared down at his feet and spaced out for a moment before speaking again.

  “My childhood night terrors are returning.” Benny said. “Can childhood night terrors return? I mean I am a grown man.”

  “Now, now.” Doctor Cunning said, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves because of one nightmare. Dreams don’t always mean what we think they mean. Murder can be interpreted as a strong desire for something.”

  There was another moment of silence and then Doctor Cunning continued.

  “I have come to realize through our sessions that you have some issues with growing old.” Doctor Cunning said, “Not everyone can process the progression into old age. Your mind is simply finding another way of expressing how you feel – through this dream you had.”

  “You really think so?” Benny asked.

  “Yes.” Doctor Cunning said, “We are all individuals and handle stress in different ways. You simply need to find a way to cope with the fact that you are growing old – a way that suits you and if your mind feels that the best way is to give you nightmares reminiscing of your childhood night terrors, let’s entertain the motion for now and see what happens. In the end you have to figure out what coping mechanism works for you.”

  “Like what?” Benny asked.

  “That’s up to you.” Doctor Cunning said.

  Benny nodded, but inside he thought to himself that his doctor was a bigger whack job than he was.

  Benny had the same dream that night, only this time it was a little girl. He entered her room from the closet shadows like a childhood monster and crept over to her bed. It reminded him of the night terrors he had as a child of the demon crawling out of his closet; only this time he was the monster.

  He stood over as she slept. He longed to taste her blood on his tongue.

  Again an unseen force slit open the flesh in her neck and blood oozed out. Benny leaned in closer and started drinking her blood until he was satisfied. Once his thirst was gone, he stepped back a few feet. He wiped excess blood from his mouth and stared at the little girl. She tossed in her sleep.

  The next thing he knew, he was in his bed and it was day. He glanced at the clock radio – it was just after six. He sat upright. He was concerned about having a similar dream. Maybe it was a subconscious longing to murder?

  Emma was already out of bed and taking off her night dress.

  “Are you alright?” Emma asked.

  She stood in front of the closet putting on a dress.

  “What?” Benny asked confused.

  “I tried waking you twice.” Emma said, “And you mumbled something.”

  Benny rubbed his eyes and got out of bed.

  “I had a nightmare.” Benny said.

  He entered the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. For a moment he almost dismissed it, but then he saw it – the crow’s feet at his eyes were gone. He leaned in closer to th
e mirror to get a better look. He inspected his eyes and the surrounding areas. The wrinkles were indeed gone.

  “What the—“ Benny was flabbergasted.

  It was not possible. Or was it?

  Emma entered the bathroom and watched as he inspected his face in the mirror.

  “You and that mirror.” She said with a smile, “You spend more time staring in it than most women.”

  “I think I’m getting younger.” Benny said.

  He turned around and faced her. He motioned for her to look at his face.

  “Look.” Benny said, “The crow’s feet around my eyes are gone.”

  Emma looked closer at his face and grunted in agreement.

  “Guess those creams really do work.” Emma said.

  She walked over to the shower and turned it on.

  “I don’t use creams.” Benny said to himself.

  He turned back to the mirror as she got into the shower. He inspected his face again. His face had fewer wrinkles all over. He was not imagining it. His face seemed smoother.

  Maybe it had to do with his strange dreams – maybe they weren’t dreams at all? They say that youth is wasted on the young, but what if somehow he was regaining his youth from the young?

  If he was regaining his youth from the blood of children, shouldn’t there be more proof than his fading wrinkles?

  A chill ran down his spine at the thought of it – if he really was drinking the blood of children, there should be something about it in the newspaper.

  He ran out of the bathroom and downstairs. He opened the front door and stared down at the paper lying on the lawn a few feet away.

  He was not sure that he wanted to pick it up. What if there was an article about the children? He took a deep breath and stepped out onto the lawn. He reached down and picked up the paper. He glanced up and down the street to make sure nobody was watching and then went back into the house.

  He sat down at the kitchen table and started paging through the paper. His eyes searched the articles for anything macabre or strange involving children, but found nothing.

  He was relieved and confused at the same time. If there were no articles about children and what he did to them it could mean one of two things; either they were dreams or (the one that frightened him most) he did indeed attack the children, but they had no idea what he did to them.

  He needed answers. Things were getting surreal and he was not sure what to make of it. Without getting dressed or telling his wife where he was heading, he got into the car. He went through his GPS history and entered the address where he met the strange man.