Page 22 of Blood Lust

“‘You can handle these werewolves,’ the Mani vampire says to me and changes his body into a black bird and flies off. He leaves me there alone to deal with the three men who areapparently werewolves. They circle me and I fight them off as well as I can. These crazy motherfuckers bite me. All three of them do. I fight them off until I completely black out.”

“You blacked out?” I ask. “They didn’t kill you?”

“I’m not sure where those assholes went. The next thing I know, I’m strapped to a gurney in the back of an ambulance. At the hearing, they tell me I broke one officer’s nose, grabbed another’s gun and was threatening to shoot them if they didn’t listen to me. I was apparently babbling about werewolves and vampires at the time… but can’t recall any of it.

“I tell the judge what I saw at the ranch, and he orders me to receive a mental evaluation. The quack doctors dope me up before they interview me, and the result of all this is twelve months at minimum psychiatric observation and rehabilitation in this place.”

All I can say in response to Richard’s amazing story is, “Do you think that dude really was a vampire?”

“He was something different. I saw him change into a bird and fly off. I’m not crazy, man. I know what I saw.”

I look over at my new neighbor and say, “I believe you.”

Chapter Sixteen

Richard isn’t able to leave his cell yet since he’s just been processed inside twenty-four hours ago. They bring him the same disgusting slop bedside. I imagine he just sleeps and doesn’t even try to eat. So, I wonder where they keep the guy who thinks he’s a werewolf and has been here for three months. It’d be interesting to see what Richard and the werewolf think of each other.

At breakfast, it’s me chatting up Bruce for a change.

“As it turns out, Richard doesn’t actually think he’s a werewolf. He’s just sure as hell that he’s seen them. And a vampire that turns into a black bird.”

“A bat?” Bruce asks.

“No, he was very specific about it being a black bird. Like a raven, I guess. Are ravens black?”

“Yeah, I’d say I believe him, if it wouldn’t earn me a few more years in this joint,” Bruce says with a smile.

“He told me he saw a pack of them in their human forms fighting what he believes to be a vampire up in Anaheim Hills one night. That’s what landed him in here. No one will believe him; they think he’s crazy. Being a homeless drifter, they medicated him and locked him up with the rest of us loons.”

“Well, then, no wonder he’s so pissed off.”

“Yeah,” I agree, spooning a mouthful of bland food into my mouth. “I didn’t know they could do that.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure they can… at least, not legally.”

We’re eating scrambled eggs and tomatoes for breakfast. Although I would have preferred a red, liquid meal, I eat my powdered eggs and overripe tomatoes without a fuss. Bruce seems proud of me.

“You should have heard his story, man. It was insane. Werewolves and vampires. But from what he described, thatwould have to be the weirdest vampire ever.”

“Quiet, Aaron,” Bruce hushes me. “Save your story for later. You might not want any ears hearing you use that particular word around here.”

“You’re right,” I agree. “I’ll tell you more when we are out in the yard.”

We finish breakfast and because I’m a good boy and ate my food, I’m rewarded time out in the yard again.

Bruce and I decide to take a walk around the perimeter of the yard. This way I can tell Richard’s story without interruption or prying ears.

I tell Bruce the exact story that Richard told me. Verbatim. I just have to tell the story a lot quicker, as we’re only in the yard for thirty minutes and Richard has all night to tell me.

Bruce takes in and seems to believe every word of the story. He tells me to not share the story with anybody else in the prison.

We walk back to our cells and for the first time, I’m a tad excited in this damned place. I’m anxious to see if Richard has any more stories about vampires and werewolves.

Chapter Seventeen

I must have had too much sun the following day.

I walk across the yard to talk to the guy Bruce refers to as ‘Firecracker.’ As it turns out, Kevin Ramirez is just an eighteen-year-old kid with anger management problems... or so I think, at first. They’ve let him out of the straitjacket, but that makes me think that he’s probably too doped up to do much more than sit on the bench in the corner of the yard and stare out the chain link fence over the open field. I’m pleasantly surprised.

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