Chapter 11: An Unexpected Visitor

The words washed over Jonathan, registering in his mind, and he knew what each word meant individually. But in context, he simply couldn’t understand them.

The man who had only the night before revealed himself to be a vampire and attacked him, now stood in front of him, unannounced and uninvited, and said they had a lot to talk about.

As he stood there mutely staring, his mind trying to process what was happening. Alphonse continued. “I have come to offer you a sincere apology for my behavior these past two days, and last night especially.”

The vampire in his living room turned away from him and began to pace from side to side. “All day I’ve thought about what I did, and I have to say, it has weighed heavy on my conscience,” he started without looking directly at Jonathan. “I found myself… worried, for the first time in many years.”

Alphonse stopped and turned on one heel to look at Jonathan again. “Do you understand what I am saying? The last time I was truly worried about anything, I was in a situation of mortal peril – and I felt the same fear today. The fear of losing something precious and unique, something which cannot be replaced, something not dissimilar to one’s very life!”

The vampire spoke in hushed tones, emphasizing his words with increasingly energetic hand motions. “Jonathan… Jonathan, I have walked this Earth for many years now. To feel this way, to feel…“

And at this point, Alphonse clutched one hand over his heart, his other hand open towards Jonathan. His eyes were wide open, but Jonathan noted his pupils were not as disturbingly dilated as before. His mouth hung open and his lips fluttered, stuck on whatever words he wanted to get out. Jonathan could make out the tips of Alphonse’s fangs as he hesitated. He was looking at Jonathan almost imploringly, as if he wanted him to say something. To help him in some way.

And then Jonathan found the words he wanted to tell Alphonse.

“Shut up. Shut the f*ck up!” He spat out the words with more venom than he knew he had in him, and found himself stepping forward, pointing at the creature before him.

“What right… What g*ddamn right do you have to come here and say you want to apologize?” Jonathan was doing his best to control his voice, remembering Kelly’s visit this morning. He couldn’t risk her coming up to this now.

He was pointing at Alphonse from only a few feet away now, anger moving him faster than he could think. “You think you can just do whatever you want, huh? Just waltz along, bleed someone, and break into their house, saying ‘Oh, Jonathan, but I feel sorry!’, and I’m supposed to, what? What do you think that means to me?”

Alphonse’s arms dangled limp by his side, and his eyes were almost vacant as he watched Jonathan approach. Jonathan was only a step away now, elbow bent so that his finger was pointing up at Alphonse. “What is this? What is this, huh? What, you’re some monster out of a horror story, but you have a conscience suddenly?”

Jonathan was waiting for a response, waiting for Alphonse to do anything, waiting for the vampire to stop him. And then he realized he was staring directly into his eyes, those eyes that had held him and scared him so much before. He blinked and took a half step back, letting his hand fall.

“What else would you say to me?” Alphonse spoke, barely above a whisper.

Jonathan trembled. “Why aren’t you stopping me? Why haven’t you… you, what, you hypnotized me yesterday but don’t think I’m worth the trouble now?”

Alphonse slowly smiled, and gently ran his pale fingers through his short, dark hair, smoothing it. “So, you want to know more about the monster I am, hm?”

Jonathan groaned. “You say you want to talk, so talk.”

He took a step away and began pacing from side to side, keeping the vampire in view. Alphonse was between him and the kitchen, so getting to a knife was out of the question. What else in reach could he use as a weapon?

Alphonse looked from side to side, and asked, rather meekly: “May I have a seat, Jonathan?”

“No,” came Jonathan’s immediate response, short and final without any consideration.

Alphonse sighed and shifted slightly on his feet. “As you wish, then.”

Suddenly, it was as if Jonathan blinked and Alphonse was behind one arm of the couch, one leg thrown over it so he could lean against the couch.

Jonathan flinched and Alphonse smiled. “No mind tricks here, I promise. In fact, you could be thinking anything you like in that pretty head of yours and I swear I wouldn’t know it.”

Jonathan shook his head slowly but said nothing.

Alphonse lowered his eyes and sighed again. “Well, you’ll have to take my word for it I suppose.”

Alphonse lifted his hand and seemed to examine his fingernails. “If it puts you at ease, it’s not like the stories you’ve been told. I don’t need to drink blood every night to get by, or even kill my… well, my victims, to call a spade a spade.” He flicked something away from his fingertips. “I will admit that if it has been too long, however, there’s a sort of, let’s call it an automatic response. Normally, I can read a person’s mind with little effort, or direct their actions somewhat to what I desire, but it’s entirely under my control.

When I haven’t fed in, say, more than a week… it feels quite as if my gifts seek to preserve themselves. I can hear a pin drop from miles away. If I don’t control myself, I move everywhere as fast as possible, like I just demonstrated, which can be quite disorienting. And I am simply overwhelmed by everything, the thoughts most of all, I feel… it is hard to explain, like describing color to a blind man. But suffice it to say, it is taxing, listening to every idea, every impulse, every impression someone has, even the ones they aren’t conscious of.”

Jonathan shivered at the thought. He had stopped pacing to listen. He couldn’t believe that Alphonse sounded like he believed he was the victim, that he was suffering from what happened.

“And when I finally feed from someone… I tell you this, Jonathan, I feel as though I become human again. I am careful always, but sometimes for a little bit, with fresh blood in my heart, I feel the beauty of mortality again, only more poignant as I know it is a fleeting feeling.” He sounded wistful now, like an art critic describing their favorite work.

Jonathan was sick to his stomach. It was nauseating to think about it as Alphonse described, his blood running through the vampire’s body, his heart. It was too much to bear.

“I want you out. I want you to get the f*ck out of my house,” Jonathan growled despite his shaking hands. “Why did you come here? What reason? Did you think that coming here and talking would make me feel better about what you did?”

He approached Alphonse again, and this time, worked up the courage to actually lay hands on him. He grabbed at the vampire’s shirt, balling it up in his fists, and pulled the creature to face him. In the back of his mind, he was quite aware that Alphonse was almost certainly just allowing this to happen, but that didn’t change the catharsis he felt.

Alphonse maintained a vacant expression as he did this, his head shaking loosely as Jonathan yanked him up from the couch.

“You disgust me. Do you understand that? You attacked me, and now you want to talk about why it happened as if it were some natural event. You stalked me through the night, and you think that I want to hear your side of events.”

He squeezed his fists tighter, the silky material of Alphonse’s black shirt tight under his hands and realized he didn’t know what to do from here. He looked up into Alphonse’s face and saw his small mouth pull back in a smile. His eyes were full of mirth. He trembled slightly, seeing Alphonse raising his hands toward where Jonathan held him.

He pushed Alphonse away and walked across the room, turning his back on the vampire. “Leave me. Just leave me the f*ck alone.”

Silence rang in the room, stretching the moment. Jonathan couldn’t bring himself to turn around and look at Alphonse.

“Alright,” Alphonse finally answered. “I’ll go. But tell me, Jonathan…was it truthfully fear alone that brought you through my door yesterday? Or am I right that you are the curious sort?”

Jonathan said nothing but shook where he stood. He heard Alphonse walk away from him, a faint rustling by the corner window.

“Until I see you next,” Alphonse stated.

The window scraped open, which finally got Jonathan to turn around. He caught only a glimpse of Alphonse’s lower half slipping through the partially open window before vanishing. The sun was almost set now, and when he crossed to the window to look, Alphonse was gone.

He shuddered, and crossed his arms, suddenly cold. He closed the window and the blinds, turning to face the room.

On his dining table beside the window, he noticed a slip of paper. He stepped closer and picked it up to examine it.

“No… f*ck, no.” Jonathan said to himself. It was a check, partially filled out. An elegant signature at the bottom, and the Muller and Muller logo in the top left. The amount of the check was left blank.