Page 15 of Blood Lust

Then comes the familiar clang of the metallic door. I have a visitor. As soon as the door opens, Don steps aside and in walks Frank Scolari, my attorney. He’s been appointed to me by the court since I can’t afford my own attorney. But I assume I’ve seen the last of him when they whisked me away to the hospital after my sentencing.

His cologne is an obnoxious scent that I grew to loathe when sitting next to him for weeks in the courthouse. However, in here, with my muzzle’s nastiness, it’s most welcome.

He’s grown a beard that enhances his square jaw and thick lips. A handsome fella, Frank is pretty sharp for a public defender.

“Aaron, what have they done to you?” Frank frowns while placing his briefcase on the floor and reaching for my mask.

“Don’t touch him.” Don stands just outside the door.

“It’s my fault. I couldn’t help myself, Frank,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

“I fought for you because I thought this was where you belonged.”

“I’d rather be on death row.”

“Believe me, you wouldn’t want to be in prison right now. In prison, there are violent animals waiting to tear you apart. At least here you have a chance, but you have to work with them.”

“Why are you here, anyway?” I ask, my voice muffled.

“Because I truly believe you’re no murderer. But you need help, Aaron. A lot of it.”

“They’re not helping me. I need blood, Frank. I don’t care where it comes from. I’d be willing to show restraint if they gave me some. I don’t care if it comes in a bag or a Dixie cup.”

“Aaron, buddy, no one’s ever going to authorize medicating you with blood.”

“I’ll make do with pig’s blood, cow’s blood, any blood.”

Frank lets out a heavy sigh. I can see in his eyes that I’m not getting through. Just like everyone else in this sorry excuse for a hospital. They don’t believe I’m truly a vampire.

“Has the medication they’ve given you eased the violent thoughts?”

“You mean what you believe are delusions? How many times do we need to go over this? For the hundredth time, Frank, I’m a vampire! Do you like the taste of blood? Have you tasted your own blood?”

Frank shrugs. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t say that I liked the taste of it.”

“Well, to me, it tastes fucking amazing.”

Frank grows frustrated with me and I with him. Despite having my interests at heart, he’s starting to piss me off.

“You’re in here for at least 15 years before your next parole evaluation; actually, make it 25 now, since you thought it’d be a grand idea to attack Dr. Carter. You’re in here for a long time, my friend. What do you want to do with your time here?”

“I want to be myself. Let me be me and I promise I’ll be good. Just give me access to blood and I’ll be a model citizen.”

“Aaron,” Frank says, as he begins pacing the room with his hands on his hips. “You’re not going to be given any blood, and you know why.”

“Humor me… Why?”

Frank sighs again, much more deeply this time.

“Because you’re not a freaking vampire. Get it through your fucking thick skull, kid!”

Frank turns away from me, shaking his head.

“Why do you care so much? Why are you here, anyway?”

“I put my career on the line for you, man,” he says. “I’ve made some deals with the D.A. Shit you wouldn’t understand… And now the word’s out about your attack on the doctor. It makes me look like an ass, because I convinced the judge and everyone else that you could be rehabilitated.”

I’ve never considered myself an opportunist. But when there’s an opportunity that presents itself that could help me quench my bloodlust, I’d be an idiot if I don’t pounce on it.

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