Death Without Parole #1, Page 3

  Chapter 3

  THEN

  Patrick stayed that way for a long time, what seemed like hours to the shaken man. Eventually, he kissed his wife's corpse on the top of her head, gently closing her eyelids with his fingers. Then he searched through the debris in the hallway until he found another decent sized shard of wood from the broken door. Taking a deep breath, he entered his bedroom.

  Cautiously approaching the bed, he let out a moan at the sight of his little boy lying still on the bed. His body began to shake as he fought the convulsing sobs building up inside him. Now that his wife's hand was no longer covering Mikey's face, Patrick could see him. His eyes were closed, which gave Patrick some hope. Hope that Mikey had been fast asleep when Mandy had killed him.

  Sitting down next to his son, Patrick gently lifted Mikey up into his lap, tenderly touching the ice cold skin on the boy's pale face. Hugging Mikey's lifeless body close to him, Patrick let emotion take over and stopped fighting it. After a while of crying, he got control of himself and steeled his nerves for what he knew he had to do. No way was he going to let his precious little boy turn into a monster.

  Positioning the sharp end of the shard over Mikey's heart, Patrick prepared to plunge it through his son's chest. Breathing quickly, he tried to psych himself up. He could do this, he had to do this. It had killed him inside to see Mandy with those long nails, with those fangs protruding from her mouth?with those coal-black, evil eyes. Patrick couldn't see his sweet boy like that, he didn't deserve to be that way. He hadn't been able to stop Mandy from turning into that thing, to stop her from killing Mikey?but he could stop Mikey from becoming a monster. Here we go, he told himself. But his hand refused to cooperate, the shard still in the same place.

  Patrick figured he could count to three, maybe then he could force himself to do what needed to be done. Taking a deep breath, he started counting. One?Patrick remembered holding Mikey in the hospital, right after he'd been born. Two?he remembered Mikey's first steps, his first words, the first time he told Patrick he loved him. Three?here we go. Patrick gritted his teeth and attempted to drive the wooden shard through his son's heart. Nothing. Patrick screamed as his arm shook with strain from the force of him trying to get his hand to do what his heart and mind couldn't. Who was he kidding?

  Patrick knew he couldn't do it, not like this. The only reason he'd been able to stab Mandy had been because she was trying to kill him. She wasn't herself, she was a monster. Mikey still looked like the same little boy Patrick had raised, he was still the same little boy. Well, Patrick thought, maybe Mikey wouldn't come back as a vampire. Maybe he would just stay dead. Then Patrick wouldn't have to do it. Just then Mikey's eyes popped open?they were coal-black.

  Biting back a sob Patrick forced the wooden shard through Mikey's chest and through his heart. The monster that used to be Patrick's son squealed with pain and then went limp again. Breaking down, Patrick cried, not even waiting for Mikey to morph back into his human form as he hugged his little boy close to him, his body shaking with torturous sorrow.

  After a while, Patrick gently laid Mikey back down on the bed. Then he walked over to Mandy, scooped her up into his arms and brought her back into their bedroom. He eased her body down next to Mikey's, wanting them to be together. Taking a step back, he swallowed down another sob that tried to make its way out at the sight of his wife and son lying dead next to one another. Lying dead next to one another with jagged pieces of wood sticking out of their chests. That realization hit him just as he heard the sound of sirens approaching in the distance.

  Isabella. She had done as he'd told her. The Jacksons had called the police. The authorities would be here soon, they would find him standing over Mandy and Mikey's bodies. They would never believe his story. Patrick began to panic. Pacing back and forth, he tried to think of a solution to the whale of a problem he was faced with. He was going to be arrested, charged with the murder of his wife and son. No jury in the world would find him not guilty, he would get life in prison?or worse. Isabella, what would happen to his little girl? Putting his hands on top of his head, Patrick took a deep breath. He blew it out, his hands slipping down as he locked his fingers behind his neck. Then he felt it. How could he have forgotten?

  Patrick had been bit by Mandy. He had been bit by a vampire. Mikey had been bit by Mandy and had turned into a vampire. Would Patrick suffer the same fate? His panic escalated into an all-out nervous breakdown. As he was about to lose it, a sharp pain tore through his body. Clutching his stomach, he fell to the floor, convulsing. What the hell was happening to him?

  The pain grew more intense, as the world turned a shade darker. Staring at his hands in horror, Patrick watched as his fingernails grew longer and sharper. Then he covered his mouth as he felt his teeth grow and crisscross, new teeth ripping through his gums and jutting out from his lips. His senses suddenly became very heightened. The first thing he noticed was a smell. It was coppery and sweet?it smelled delicious. The pain now subsided, he got to his feet and followed the smell. He let out a moan when he noticed the smell was coming from the now drying puddle of Mikey's blood on the bed. What was going on!?

  The mirror on the dresser to his left caught his eye. Rushing over to it, he grabbed hold of the side of the dresser with both hands, bracing himself for what he knew he was going to see. His nails dug into the wood on each side as he gawked at himself. Coal-black eyes, snaggle tooth mouth, long fingernails. Patrick was a vampire?a real life vampire! He could hear the sirens pulling into his driveway, the police would be in the house in seconds. Even worse, he could smell them.

  He could smell the officers' blood. Could hear it pumping through their veins. Patrick knew he couldn't trust himself around the cops, there was a hunger boiling up inside him. A hunger he wanted to give into?needed to give into. He heard a pounding on the door. Time was running out.

  Patrick hurried back to the hallway, frantically searching for another large wood shard. Finally he found one, scooping it up and running back into the bedroom as he heard the door be broken open by the police. He fell to his knees in front of the bed, looking at Mandy and Mikey. Patrick knew he had to kill himself, had to end it now. Positioning the shard over his heart, he tried to ignore his growing hunger. He heard footsteps running up the steps. Patrick couldn't help but notice that the cops smelled so tasty. Oh God, he thought, it had to be now. Patrick had to kill himself right now! Looking at his wife and son's bodies, he made them two promises.

  "I will not give into this monster! I love you both so much?I will see you soon." He heard a cop yell freeze just as he began to push the shard through his chest. A loud crack rang out. At first, Patrick thought it was his chest plate cracking open from the wooden shard. But then his left arm holding the shard went limp, his makeshift stake clattering to the floor. Looking down he noticed his left elbow was shattered, a bloody mess of bone and meat. The crack had been a gunshot as a bullet had torn through his elbow. No, he thought, this can't happen.

  Patrick hunched over, cowering and trying to hide his appearance as he heard the police approaching him. The sound of blood pumping through their veins filled his ears. Licking his lips, he breathed in the intoxicating aroma of the life liquid that was flowing through them. He knew he could kill them all, have his fill of their blood. It would make him stronger, more powerful. Then he could go next door, do the same to the Jacksons. Served them right for calling the police. Then Patrick would be left alone with Isabella. Mmm, the thought of opening up her young, innocent neck and drinking her dry gave him tingles. Patrick screamed.

  No, what was he thinking!? He would never hurt Isabella, never! Patrick didn't want to hurt anyone. It wasn't him, it was the monster, the vampire inside him. He wouldn't let it win, not now, not ever. Patrick hadn't been able to keep his promise to see Mandy and Mikey soon. But he could keep his promise to not give into the monster. He would fight it
?and damn it, he would win. Roaring with struggle, Patrick forced down the urges and hunger?forced down the monster, just as the police officers reached him.

  As they knocked him to the ground and roughly put his hands behind his back, Patrick was relieved to see his fingernails had returned to normal length. That his mouth felt normal?the room looked lighter. Was he cured? No, he could still feel the monster deep inside him. It was fighting, clawing and screaming to make its way out. To take control of Patrick again. But it wouldn't, never. One of the officer's voices got his attention.

  "What the hell did you do here, man!? What the hell did you do!?" Patrick closed his eyes and rested his head on the floor. What had he done? He'd killed his wife and son. No, that wasn't true. They were already dead. The things he killed weren't Mandy and Mikey, they were thieves who'd stolen his precious family's bodies. What Patrick had done was the right thing?he'd done what needed to be done. The vampire that had killed Mandy and turned her into a monster was truly to blame?and they were still out there. But Patrick wouldn't get the chance to find them. He knew he was going to have to pay for what he'd done.