Chapter 7
♪ Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain...
He heard the rain and thunder knowing it was probably raining in his apartment. But he was too tired to get out of bed, allowing nature to have its way as he pulled the covers over his head to keep warm and prevent the light of day from intruding, interrupting him.
He slept another hour or so only to awaken with an erection. He went over the events of the last few days ending with his mother's most recent visit. He wondered if she knew how close he was to clutching her ass to him in sexual need. The need she elicited with whatever powers she laid claim to. He didn't want to hate her, not yet, not until he understood better.
Choosing to ignore his erection and other thoughts, he closed the windows mopping up the rain puddles. He took a shower when his erection returned. With little effort and of impure thought, he watched in fascination, seeing it swirling down the drain.
Getting out of the shower and wrapping a long towel about his waist he tended his godforsaken wounds, bandaging them. He found himself running through a list of questions for her. He understood she wasn't human. When she lay on top of him comforting him, he heard those sounds from within her. It never occurred to him vampires could have their own language and means in conveying their thoughts to one another. The idea would explain how Alexis sounded after their chess game when she won. It was all too new and too much to understand. As he thought about it he found himself taking the watch from the box once more, trying it on. Understandably he liked how it looked on him. He set the time wanting to see if it was as accurate as their claims. He returned it to the box not ready or willing to wear it yet, allowing it to remain as the symbol of resistance he thought of it as being.
Still wearing only his towel and mumbling,
"resistance is futile"
he opened his door to get the newspaper. The woman from across the hall was unlocking her door. She looked over her shoulder, seeing how he was dressed. She watched him pick up the Sunday newspaper when he greeted her. Her eyes went to the area between his legs when she smiled approvingly. He felt self-conscious and embarrassed, deciding not to linger.
Anxiously wanting to see if the incident in the alley received any press and how the writers portrayed it, he began leafing through the paper. He realized it wasn't only terror he felt but there was a sense of retribution in seeing the thugs getting what they perhaps deserved. The attack was very effective as though it was carried out by a trained assassin. When he came across the story he saw what happened to the third thug. He had a hole in his chest, his heart missing. They called it a satanic ritual of disembodiment which resulted in the death of two. The third was still in critical condition with life threatening injuries to his throat. He wondered how and when Satanism gained a level of acceptance in society when writers could explain it in such a way.
"Were vampire's hell's death spawn," he wondered deciding to add it to his list.
Sunday in the park with George...
He went to the park as he always did on Sundays. There were vendors selling the hotdogs he loved. After buying one he watched a chess game in progress between two young men he knew. When they heard him chuckle they asked him why he was laughing. He attempted to explain the hidden depth inside the position, showing them things they weren't capable of seeing until he pointed them out to them.
"Chess positions are like onions, layers on top of layers," he said when he looked up seeing a smiling George. He had his daughter Amy and a young woman with him. He wasn't sure who the young woman was but she wrapped her arms around one of George's, pressing against him and smiling. They approached when George said,
"Demetri, I wanted you to meet Connie. We sat together in church today and when she asked me why I hadn't returned her calls I told her I was afraid. Go ahead Connie, tell him what you said to me."
