FicWad

"...And so the Department of Aberrations Director Sidne Jimson concludes this project request with a hypothesis: just as a werebeast changes under the influence of a full moon, the bloodlust will boil for all supernatural creatures, once a crimson moon lives." A static whirring from a fluorescent light filled the cramped office as the last word fell from my mouth. I glanced up at Mr. Janulis, my ornery boss, for his response to my request. He made no move to speak, his dull eyes entranced by the steam snaking from his coffee, and so I made another move. "Sir, your thoughts on this subject?" I fidgeted in the chair, wanting approval desperately.
It took him even longer to mold his musings into words. Each sentence swam behind his irises for a time before a man like Mr. Janulis would let them forth.
"It seems you have thought this through thoroughly enough," he stated deadpan, while toying with a steel pen, "I might be willing to support this venture of yours. How many do you currently have in custody?"
"Eight vampires, as of now, though we have managed to wrangle a few other beasts."
"Other beasts?" These words perked him up, and he rested his meaty arms against his desk. "Be more specific."
"A werewolf, a siren, a couple of fey, and a chimera." I settled into the chair provided for me, relieved to have finally engaged his interest. It seemed I might be able to receive the necessities for my little project after all. From then on the conversation grew more animated and detailed as his interest on the subject escalated. Eventually, he gave me what I had come for.

*
I burst from his office in a swift gait, scarcely able to keep my reserve intact. Today was a day of accomplishment. I felt as mighty as Samson, and so I decided to take the long way to the parking lot, to flaunt my triumph in front of my co-workers, and have a bit of fun with the beasts. Each of my colleagues would congratulate me in turn, but I could see through their masks of fake smiles and praising words to their envious eyes.
As I came to the cages where those disgusting immortals were kept, I felt a surge of adrenalin run through my body. I was tempted to wring a vampire's neck until its eyes first popped out, and then rolled back into its head. Instead, I found a lone pipe leaning against the drab wall, and decided to prey on the most seemingly innocent of the undying swine.
It was a delicate little fey, with bleak blue eyes and a structure like a sapling. The lock clicked maliciously as the key turned, and the fey staggered backwards at the echoing din. I tossed the pipe from hand to hand, getting a feel for its weight and length before I wielded it in such a compact cage. The creature's eyes followed the piece of iron as I swung it from side to side. It clawed at the cement wall at the back of the cage in a futile attempt to escape the burn of the metal against its skin. Since the fey only accomplished in bloodying up its fingers, the movements ceased, and a high-pitched wail erupted from its lips. My hands shot up to my ears to block out the screeching, but the clattering of the pipe to the floor only added to the tumult. I realized after a minute or so that this fey was not willing to relent, so I retrieved my weapon and lunged at it. After the ruthless beating, I was able to revel in the wonderful silence that resulted from it being felled. The fey was lying in a pool of its silver blood so like the iron it feared.
"Sidne! Oh, Sidne!" came a voice from a few rooms down. I looked over my shoulder to the hallway outside the fey's dwelling, and began walking towards it. Halfway out of the cage I remembered the bar still in my hand. Tossing it carelessly over my shoulder, I shut the cage behind me, not bothering to lock it again.
After a few moments of playing Marco Polo in the halls, I came face-to-face with my fiancé, Alissandra Everhart. She was leaning her shoulder against the wall, her exquisite features set into a glare, but even her fury could not dampen her glamour. My breathing hitched in my throat upon beholding her.
"Oh Siddy-poo," she said with such vehemence that I took a step back instead of one forward. "Where were you, honey? I was waiting by the car. Oh, but don't worry, I'm not angry. You only made me wait there for an hour." This was ended in a shout, and then she stepped backwards, slapping her hand dramatically to her forehead as she ranted and raved about some "sleazy old man" and a couple of bikers who had been hitting on her.
I viewed this performance with some amusement, and waited for her jumbled speech to slow before speaking. "Aw, I'm sorry, sweetheart," I crooned, pulling her into my arms. "But I have something that will make you happy." I paused for effect, glanced left and right suspiciously, and then whispered: "I got it. He gave me clearance for the Crimson Moon Project." Her sulky face instantly melted into one of jubilance, as she hugged me tightly and shouted more of those jumbled words, this time in excitement. Now being in this state of euphoria, we left the morbid, depressing backdrop of the institute to return to our condo to celebrate.
The next day I awoke to the sound of angry cars speeding along outside my condo. A thrill sang in my veins as I realized that today was the much-anticipated Crimson Moon. Hurrying through my daily routines, I rushed to the lab to organize what was needed for the night's festivities. The first few hours inched by slowly, and I grew tired of my office work. Yawning deeply, I decided to shake off my boredom by welcoming the newest specimen, #8675309.
Some of the workers captured this male vampire while patrolling the east side of the city the previous night. Unfortunately, two were killed in the scuffle that preceded his capture, but thus are the risks in a job such as ours. This vampire fits the cliché description of popular myth: Impossibly black hair, pallid skin, complex features, and dark, almost black eyes that were rimmed with vermilion.
He bared his fangs defiantly as I approached, and I sneered back at him, almost as if I had fangs myself. Refusing to lower myself to be eye level with it, I instead leaned against the wall across from the vampire's cage. We had a glaring contest of sorts, until I grew bored of it. "So, you're the new patient," I began, my words coming rapidly so as to leave no room for a reply. "How do you feel today? I hope your lodging is to your liking. Remember to scream for assistance should you need anything."
"Oh, I'm quite comfortable here, Dr. Jimson. Thank you for your concern." He then proceeded to spit at my feet, missing by a few inches, but it was still rather insulting.
"You vampires," I shook my head disgustedly, "what a charming race. Though I cannot divine the source of all of your bitterness. You could show some more respect, you know, since we're being so hospitable to you." That disgusting being quirked an eyebrow at this. "This is much better than what you all deserve. Your lifestyle is of your own fault and decision. Having chosen that path, you have renounced your humanity, and so all you should have had to look forward to is karma's vicious underhand."
"Your logic is mottled, professor," the vampire replied coolly in a way that mocked me. "Not many of us choose to become what we are. Instead, we are mere victims of fate."
"Oh," I retorted, "then am I to suppose that you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time?"
"No, I wanted to be a vampire." He stated simply.
Feeling that this conversation was going nowhere, I stormed off from the hallway, mumbling about how busy I was. His voice followed me as I left: "I'll see you soon, I suspect." And then I was once more exhilarated with the fact that it was almost time for the Crimson Moon to appear.
It hung in the sky like a glaring eye, that moon I had so anticipated. My inferiors scurried around my feet, carting supplies, dragging cages of snarling beings, and pestering me with questions. At one point a surly assistant of mine hauled the vampire from a few hours previous past me. He greeted me with an enigmatic smirk before he was taken off to a dark corner.
Once everything was in place, people rushed to their posts, and then cocked their heads towards me, waiting for their signal. At first I indicated to two women stationed next to a control panel to start the elevators up as I pushed the cage I was lugging on one. Three more cages were stuffed in it before it began lifting them to the roof. There were many identical lifts in the room, which were each packed with a few cages. As for the rest of us, we all trotted up the stairs in order to meet the elevators as they hit the roof. One man for one creature: that was our trial condition. I was lucky enough to be paired with the same vampire I had met earlier in the day.
The vampire looked as if he had been sedated. His head drooped at an odd angle, and his eyes flashed with rouge. Due to his condition, he used the bars to support him, and stared at me with unfocused eyes. I ventured closer, scribbling notes onto my clipboard. As the moon rose higher, the beasts grew more restless. The human in his cage began to change into his wolf form, screaming in agony as his bones snapped and repositioned themselves. Piercing screams erupted from the siren in place of its once enchanting song. The chimera sank its teeth into its leg, gnawing at its flesh, and the fey each grabbed handfuls of their hair and ripped it loose. Most predictably of all, the vampires each in turn leaned their arms between the cage bars, reaching for the scientist beyond.
I leapt backwards as a loud, resounding crash, like the sound of thunder, echoed in my ears. Stumbling over a box of supplies, I lay prostrated on the cement roof. As my head tilted back in pain, I caught sight of the werewolf mangling its observer. "Augh!" I screamed in horror, and rolled onto my knees. Straight below my chin were the toes of scuffed boots. With bated breath, I looked up to see vampire #8675309, my specimen. He leered down at me; ice carpeted my insides, and each movement of my diaphragm only resulted in what sounded like a death rattle.
"Mr. Jimson," he scolded congenially, "you should know that the floor is no place for a scientist of your magnitude. Here, let me assist you." He extended his hand as if to help me up. My vision became blurred for some inexplicable reason, and then I felt the cold unconsciousness take over.
*
I awoke to a midnight sky and a dull ache in my chest. The Crimson Moon rested in the heart of the sky. My own heart felt like it was barely beating at all. Fearing injury, I checked my pulse, only to be greeted with a silence that terrified me. I shot up quickly and jumped to my feet. I glanced around me, with seemingly new eyes. Everything looked different: the colors were brighter, yet duller. Things seemed to move, though my mind told me they were stationary. One of the things that had changed was the moon. Before it had been crimson, but now it swam with what looked like flowing blood. I glanced down at my hands, and saw my reflection in some broken glass left over from the uproar. I stared in horror, and raised my hands to my face. My skin was as pale as the snow was white, and my hair was dark ebony. "Oh God..." I started. I touched my fingers to my mouth, and parted my lips. As my fingertips came in contact with something sharp and foreign, I screamed and looked upwards to the sky where the Crimson Moon hung. I stumbled backwards, clutching my chest. A hunger sang in my veins as strong as an earthquake: something I had never felt before.
The cold cement side of the roof was soothing under my burning palms as I leaned against the edge. I debated on jumping from the building to end my life right then, but as my foot met the ledge, a petite female walking the sidewalk below changed my mind. I climbed down the escape ladder silently, and trailed after her. My mind was lulled into submission by my lust, and my body followed suite.
*
By dawn I managed to find an abandoned warehouse that was able to both harbor me and keep the rays of the sun away. I huddled in a damp corner, my knees pulled up to my chest, tears of blood running down my cheeks. Not one thought presented itself to me as I sobbed miserably. There was nothing I could do to change the terrible sin I had just committed. Suicide didn't help, I had already tried; the abrasion closed up within two minutes. Maybe if my body was ripped completely to shreds, then I couldn't heal myself....
"Why, Dr. Jimson," said the shadows with sickening familiarity. "Fancy meeting you here." A particularly dense shadow receded a moment later, revealing that vampire by and by. I cast him a dismal glare. "Oh dear, whatever could be the matter?"
The words came effortlessly, defying the bile that bit at my throat: "I...I murdered her. She did nothing. I was just so hungry.... And blood, lots of blood.... She screamed... and I laughed, and then finished her off...." I trailed off with a shudder, and then heaved forward as I emptied my stomach.
"First feeding? Yes, it is a bit of an emotional sledgehammer, but that comes with the glory of being a vampire. Being a vampire." The second reference to what I had become was a tool of emphasis and torment.
"What... what did you do to me?" I demanded, never lifting my head from my knees.
"Dear doctor," the vampire laughed horribly, "I changed you. Actually, I fixed you. You're better now. Aw, such a sour face. No worries, I'll explain everything to you." In truth, I really didn't want to hear this story, but knew that it would be for the best if I did, so I sat silently as he spoke. "As you and the other good doctors were dragging us up onto that god forsaken roof, I was in between that lovely little werewolf and a few others. It just so happens that I accidentally let it slip to the werewolf where the weak points in those cages were. Yes, there were faults in those cages, but I was waiting for the opportune moment to use it to my advantage." My head rose in disbelief-to think that he could have broken through and killed me as I taunted him earlier in the day!
"While that beautiful creature was feasting upon the good doctor, and you were seemingly enthralled with the blood spray, I exited the cage, changed you, and then hunted some of the other men down. You know what happened afterwards." Pain ripped through my heart and mind. "My little creation," the vampire swooped down to where I was, and he patted my hair. "It's all right, I'm here for you."
Wrath negated any fear, and I was propelled forward with a new vampiric force. I grabbed him by the neck and shoved him against the wall. My nails punctured the skin, and his blood streamed out in rivulets. I watched it stream downwards-was it his blood, or the life force of all of his anonymous victims? "You," I hissed, curling my lip to make the fangs prominent. "This is your fault. You did this to me. I'm going to kill you." He glanced briefly over my shoulder, and smiled.
"No time today, doctor, but perhaps at a later date. A lady is waiting." With this, his physical being melted away, perhaps into the wall, and I stumbled forward. Cursing, I spun around to look for what he saw.
In the doorway was a white faced Alissandra. A strange song issued from the headphones around her neck, and her eyes were inscrutable. "Darling," I cried out, running to her. As I reached her, she opened her arms. I kept darting towards her, waiting for her embrace, when her uppercut hit me straight in the jaw, and sent me against the floor. The song became recognizable as my head stopped swimming: it was the song "8675309" by Tommy Tutone. I nearly cried, the irony burning behind my eyes, but instead scrambled to my feet. This was no time to ponder the unorthodox obscenities of fate. "Alissandra, what did you do that for?"
"Quiet, vampire," she hissed, a consecrated compound bow pointed at my heart. "You're coming with me."
"But, Alissandra! It's me, Sidne Jimson, your fiancé, the love of your life."
"You are mistaken, vampire," she replied with the same ice, "Sidne is dead. Now come along before I shoot this arrow straight between those beady eyes of yours."
*
The slight pressure and chill of the iron cage bars against my forehead were grounding reminders of my situation. I was in the same building that I once worked in, with my former betrothed fetching torture paraphernalia to use against me in the next room. But this room, I remembered quite well. It was one from back when I spat upon anything fantastical, clinging with fierce passion to my humanity and basking the fact of having vampires and other beasts under my control. This establishment was a house of controversy and self-righteous persecution, and its workers were sheltered to any other method of thought. Only those in distress under this roof were able to grasp the different dimensions of the life on this planet. I now knew this, but perhaps too late.
No, not perhaps, it is too late, for me at least.
Swift footsteps alerted me to Alissandra returning to deal with me. I glimpsed down beside me to where a mass lay. Even through the dark, I could see the fey I had once slaughtered. The iron pole had burned its way through the flesh, and completely cleaved the little being in half. My eyes traveled up its torso to its face.
The faery's mouth was upturned into a cruel, sharp-toothed smile, and the eyes, alert and piercing, were locked into my own.