A Close Encounter With The Blood Sucking Kind | Teen Ink

A Close Encounter With The Blood Sucking Kind

September 27, 2008
By Nathaniel PLATINUM, Huntsville, Missouri
Nathaniel PLATINUM, Huntsville, Missouri
36 articles 0 photos 30 comments

Favorite Quote:
"For there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." --William Shakespeare

November 11th, 1965

Groundbreaking commenced today. Today was the first day to begin construction for the yarn factory. I am head of construction for the sight, so today I shared the shovel with the owner of the factory, and we did the pointless groundbreaking ceremony together.

When I first got news from my boss that this was to be my new assignment, I was at first doubtful. They,(meaning the people who wanted to build the place); said the factory would be built in the Ozarks. I laughed at the idea. Why would a company that mass produced a product so big want to build a factory in such a remote place?

Of course that was a stupid question. The reason why the factory was being built in the Ozarks was simple; it was cheaper. That, and they were centering their factory in the heartland of America. That was a smart move actually, they would be able to ship things more easier, and more efficiently to both sides of the coast.

I’m tired; all the paperwork I have to sign, all the materials I have to inspect. Boy, I’m already wishing that this project was over.
November 12th, 1965

Work today was normal. Drove to the sight in my pickup, “The Beatles” were playing on the pickup’s radio. I was going through the motions. It’s funny, me being tired, then listening to “A Hard Day’s Night” by those lads from Liverpool. When I listened to it, I had a great laugh; those kids had no idea what they were talking about.
November 13th, 1965

Today was weird. My boys were digging to lay the foundation then they suddenly stopped. Angry at them for getting in the way of progress, I marched down there and demanded to know what was going on.

A young kid named Billy Randall suddenly spoke up, “Uh boss, you might want to see this. It looks pretty serious.”

He led me to a place in the dirt. “What is so serious!” Said I. “I don’t see a thing. If you’re making this up Billy, I’m going to think very seriously about firing your sorry hide!”

Billy’s face had went white when I said that. Quickly; faster than a bullet, his hands shot down to the brownish black soil. He began digging with cupped hands. After a while he began going around in a square or a rectangle, then after he dug out the shape, he walked into the very center of it and wiped off the thin coating of dirt. What I saw made me gasp. Under the dirt was cement, no, not cement, but good, ole traditional stone. On the stone was a strange symbol, and under the symbol, carved in thick, the number 1682.

Billy saw me gasp, then said, “You know what boss? I may be crazy for thinking this, but I think what we have here is a tomb of some kind.”

“A tomb!” I said. “Are you loony? We’re not in Europe! We’re in America! I doubt highly that what we have here is some kind of medieval tomb.”

“I dunno boss,” Billy said with doubt. “Looks to me like it’s pretty old.”

I, being nervous, and to be frank, quite scared, made my men swear to me that the would not tell of the things existence. And if they did, I would pay them back with the loss of their job. I don’t know what’s under that stone, but I pray to God that it’s not a tomb, because if it is, I’m in for it.
November 16th, 1965

Its been three grueling days since my men and I have discovered the thing. My boss is getting edgy, he demands that we lay down the foundation or else. We have to be very cautious to cover up the tomb thing. I have a mind to break the thing, (with the help of my men); and see what is inside of it. But whatever I do, I need to do it soon. For my authority’s patience is wearing thin.
November 17th, 1965

I can wait no longer. I have talked it over with my men, and they agree in astounding unison that we should break the stone. I am not looking forward to it, but if I wish to keep my job, I must do it no matter the cost.
November 18th, 1965

I was up early this morning. Had a couple cups of joe, and a glazed doughnut. I tried to watch television on my new set, but I had not interest in it. Instead, I found myself reading a slightly battered copy of ‘Gulliver’s Travels’. It was interesting, for I have not read the book since I was a boy. I got to page 60, then I had to get in the pickup to drive to work.

This time Elvis was on the radio, crooning out “Hound Dog” like a crazed fool. I was surprised to hear him, because ever since these ‘Beatles’ were discovered, their music has dominated the air waves.

When I got there, my men were anxious. They, like I, had a sick curiosity to see what was under that stone. I saw that many of them had dangerously heavy looking sledgehammers, all of them capable of breaking a persons bones with ease. Without asking, I strode past one of them and took a hammer from their eager hands.

When we were at the site, I had my men uncover it. Then, with a hard swing, I landed a blow on the stone. I had expected it to do nothing. But it made a long, jagged crack across the face of it. Another strong blow. A fine dust lifted from where I struck, and when I could see, I saw that I had made a small hole in the stone,

“Man that stone must be awful thin.” commented one of my men. When I turned to see who it was, I recognized it was Billy Randall.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “It is. Whoever made this was in hurry.”

“Well that date says 1682,” said Billy. “I can’t believe any early settlers would get as far as the Ozarks. Most stayed at the coastline, near places like Virginia.”

“Well one of them did.” I said. “And I intend to find out what’s under here, so can I get some help in tearing this thing apart?”

I didn’t have to ask twice. As soon as I had requested some help, a few guys swung with me, and within five minutes we had that sucker demolished. When we were done, we stood back from the new big, gaping hole we had made. Most of us had a pallet of sweat forming on our T-shirts.

One of my men looked down the hole with an eye of inspection. “I don’t see anything.” he said. “But it looks like there is more down there that the sun not showin’ us.”

I looked down to, at the bottom was dirt. But what was interesting to me was that the walls inside the hole were made of stone.

“There’s definitely something down there,” I declared. “And I think I am going down in it boys.”

This caused a mumbling between my men.

“You can’t go alone,” pleaded Billy. “You might get hurt, I’ll go down with you for your safety.”

Another man stepped up, he was about two inches shorter than I was, and from the impression I got, he had been packing on the pounds. “I’ll go too.” said he in a deep masculine voice.

I laughed nervously, never before had I seen anyone that concerned about my safety, not even from my own mother.

“Fine with me,” I told them. “Just get a flashlight and a shovel. That way we can see where we are going, and if we need to remove some debris we can.” It didn’t take more than thirty seconds, and all of us had the supplies I had asked for.

Without much difficulty, we jumped down into the hole. As soon as my feet hit the damp soil, I shivered, it was cold down there, almost an unnatural cold. As soon as the others recovered from their landings, we switched on our flashlights, making bright, yellow beams to penetrate the darkness that laid ahead of us.

We found that there was indeed a tunnel of sorts. And after consulting my fellow’s, we went down it. Many times I questioned myself why I was in this bizarre situation, but with my curiosity growing stronger by the second, I pressed on.

Billy had asked me if he could go on and scout ahead. I was thinking about saying no, but I decided I might as well let him, because what else was there to do?

Minutes passed. I had the thought to turn back, and go to the friendly sunlight but it was shattered by Billy’s call, “Boss! Boss! Boss! There’s a chamber ahead! Boss? Boss get up here!”

In excitement I rushed to Billy to answer his call. When I found him, he pointed his yellow beam towards the dark, as he did, I saw something glitter and glisten softly.

“You see that?” Billy asked excitedly.

“Yeah,” I answered. “What do you reckon that is?”

“I think it’s gold. You may think I’m being silly, but I honestly thinks its gold.”

“Gold?” Inquired our other companion. “Why on earth would you think it would be gold?”

“I don’t know,” replied Billy. “But how many things on this earth do you know that make that shine?”

We were silent, and then we moved forth. I kept my flashlight to my side, casually flicking it back and forth, searching for something— anything that could be visible to me. As luck would have it, I found something.

In the corner of the chamber was a body. It was dead of course, but it didn’t have the look of decay on it. In fact it seemed as if the body was brand new. I almost thought that the corpse was somebody threw down here a few hours prior to dispose of. If the body were not dressed in rusty chain mail, I would of thought that, but the chain mail changed my opinion.

Chain mail, I thought. Isn’t 1682 a little to advanced for it?

I went closer.

The body was male. But it wasn’t a fully grown man. No, it looked like an adolescent. Had the boy been alive, I would of guessed that he would be at least 13, 17 at oldest. The boy’s face was not pale, in fact my eyes were under the illusion that his face was pink, as if life was still in him. For a moment I was still, transfixed by the boy’s defiance to death’s decay, but I was interrupted by a scream of utter delight form Billy. “Oh Boss! Look what I have! Look what I found!”

I turned, and saw that Billy had a chalice, a chalice made of pure gold, with a blood red ruby set in it.

“That’s nice,” I complimented. “But look what I’ve found.” I pointed my flashlight in the direction of the boy.

Billy squinted hard, and when his jaw dropped, I knew he had seen what I had seen.

“Sweet Jesus,” exclaimed he. “It’s like the boy’s still alive, only sleeping.”

Our other companion coughed, then said, “Excuse me? What did you say about a boy?”

Billy’s now trembling finger pointed towards the boy. The man shone his flashlight in the direction, and walked slowly to the boy, when he passed me, I saw in his eyes that he was thinking and feeling what all the rest of us in the chamber were thinking and feeling. Awe, and a fear. A fear of the unknown.

The man was now so close to the dead boy that only a few barley comfortable inches separated them. The man touched the boys neck as if feeling for some odd bump.

“Guys,” he said with wonder. “There’s a bite mark on this kid. Not an animal bite, but it looks like a human bite.”

Suddenly, I saw the boys pink face change to a ghostly white. Then I saw his eyes flicker open, revealing only white, no pupil’s or iris’s. Then I witnessed the boys face curl into a smile, revealing pointed teeth. It was there, at that second, that I realized truly what the boy was. I tried to yell to warn the man to get back. But in a flash, the boys arms wrapped around the mans neck and drew him to his mouth. The man tried to struggle and get away, but the boy seemed to posses some remarkable strength, and held him down. The boy bit into the man’s neck, making him scream out loud with agony. I heard slurping, and when it was over, the mans body was limp, and fell over on the ground, lifeless.

The boy stood shakily, then when he had stable footing, he wiped the mans fresh blood from his lips. Then he looked at me with an eager, hungry, desire shining brightly in his whites for eyes.

“Sweet Jaaaaaaaysus!” cried Billy. “That boys a vampire or something! Boss? Boss we’ve got to get out of here!”

As soon as had said that, the boy smiled again; and with a gesture of his hand, a whistling wind occurred. At first, I did not realize what was going on. When my eyes caught sight of our fallen friend getting back up, I knew exactly what it was.

The man now had whites for eyes too, and the same evil smile was carved in his face.

“Dear God!” I said out loud, more thinking out loud. “He’s one too!”

They both came closer to us. Their arms outstretched with a love—a love for blood— they wanted us.

“Billy?” I asked. “Do you still have the shovel?”

Billy handed it to me without an answer.

I held it upright like a sword, then I marched to them and swung the shovel as a baseball bat. Both of them ducked with speed that was unnatural. My shovel hit the stone wall, creating yellow sparks. And from the impact that the swing had, the shovels wooden handle broke, leaving me with a sharp, splintered wooden stake; that was only 10 inches at most.

They just stared at me with their whites, mocking my unfruitful blow. I stood there, almost wanting to be one of the, but sense came into me, and I began to run.

“Run!” I shouted to Billy. “Run like you’ve never run before!”

He followed my instructions, and we ran side by side, making our escape through the dark, damp, tunnels of the tomb. I almost thought we had left our blood drinking fellows in the dust, but I heard a fierce hissing, and when I turned my neck, I saw that the two were coming after us; they had no intention of letting us slip out of their grasp.

I could see light, light that was not coming from the flashlights. I could see the sunlight.

“We’re almost to the end Billy!” I encouraged. “Run!”

Then I tripped on something hard, then fell down to the harsh, inviting ground. I rolled over immediately, I would not let them suck my blood while I was still in my right mind.

I made an effort to get up, but my legs screamed a message of pain to me, when I gazed at them, my eyes averted back, my legs were bleeding. I saw their face’s. The boys, and the mans. I saw their lust, I saw it grow into a must. They would taste my blood, or so they thought.

I swore I could feel rays of the sun start to warm my back. I edged closer to the end of the tunnel with my elbows. I searched in vain for Billy but I saw he wasn’t there, he had gone on to the light without me. He was a yellow bellied, good-for-nothing coward.

They were closer.

I saw their face tense up with an evil glee. They thought they had me.

Then, without warning, the boy leapt upon me. Without thought, I raised my splintered stake in defense. The boy fell on me, and as he did, I could feel the wood slip through his ancient mail, through flesh, and finally, his heart. I could see a faint crimson start to flower out of him. He bared his teeth at me, and I jerked my head back away from him. Then I realized I could see his face as clear as day. This was because the daylight was shining upon his face.

Then his face became stressed and tight. Veins were visible and bulged from his neck. He gritted his teeth in response. His face was suddenly starting to wrinkle and wither. His was face was then as sand, and began to lop off and dissolve away into nothingness away quickly. I pushed the fast decaying body away and off me. And with great effort, despite the sharp pain, I stood up.

I started to walk towards the right direction. The way I should of turned back too long before. Then, I heard a hissing. Memories came into my mind as a mighty flood, and I remembered the latter.

I craned my neck to receive sight of the figure before me. The man now transformed vampire was still there.

In my poor, confused state, I laughed. Then from the decaying body of the freshly slain, I pulled out the stake. Blood; blood that was hundreds of years old dripped from the makeshift stake. The creatures eyes of white stared at it with horror, I think it realized that the blood could be its own.

Then, with a surge of unknown strength, I ran to the thing, and with fiery fury, drove the stake into it. Its eyes grew intense as it felt the wood being pushed into it involuntarily. Then it crumpled down to the dirt, slain.

I turned my back to them. I winced from pain, and walked out of the tunnel, and finally I was back in the glorious sunlight. Time seemed to slow a little, then I could hear my men scream in exclamation and surprise at my state. When I looked to my hands, I saw that they were bloody. When I saw my knees, I saw that they were the same, and I saw that all my wounds were mixed with the soil of the earth.

I held my hands up. And without question, my men raised me out from that hole. I heard them say things as, “What are we gonna do?” or “What happened?” or “What’s going on?”. To all of them I said, “Fill that cursed hole with dirt, boy’s. Dump a lot of it in, pack it in nice and tight. I don’t want any question right now, just do it.”

They had laid me on the ground, a good twenty or so feet away from that tomb. And they followed my instructions to the letter. They packed that hole with dirt, I made sure of it.

To my amazement, I conked out right then and there on the ground. Then I slept a deep sleep; a sleep of healing.

December 2nd, 1965

Its been two weeks since that ordeal in the tomb. Since then I’ve located Billy, and he’s okay, he’s just not working for the construction company anymore. As for the man that went down in the tomb with us, I lied to my authority’s that he ran off and quit. I know that’s not a good alibi, but it was good enough for them to believe it and not ask anymore pesky questions.

Two days ago the foundation was finally laid. Now we are starting to really build the factory. I’m content to know that we’ve laid the foundation over the tomb. At least that is some sort of barrier from the world and that place of death. I don’t know why what happened in the tomb happened, but it did, and that is all there is to it. But if anything else can be said, I can say that at least I have faced a force of evil, and overcame it with the force of will; and the force of good has trampled evil into the dust.

The author's comments:
This is my first story I've ever written about vampires. Hope you guys will enjoy it.

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This article has 4 comments.

just3words said...
on Feb. 7 2009 at 5:23 pm
I liked the story - but i definitely prefer your other works of prose. (Like in 'I Found It In A Baby Blue Trashcan). But still - it was an interesting story.

on Oct. 30 2008 at 8:01 pm
Good, vety good. I was interested the whole time. But hey... you kept repeating words in the same paragraph. Usually you can help it, and I'm not trying to be mean, but that undermines your writing quality. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.

on Oct. 7 2008 at 2:37 pm

Joe S. said...
on Oct. 6 2008 at 12:11 am
good work...kept me interested...when it ended..i wanted more...

thanks for the nice ride