Still another another 3 hours left until sundown, thought Terry, as he looked down at the illuminated dial of his old carriage clock, before squirming about in his hastily dug hole, and hoping that something small and furry wouldn’t piss on his face again.
Sweet Jesus, there had to be another way?
But after the loss of Lauryn, the treachery of Errol and the attitude of Kevin and some of those at Stay In Your Lane Publishing , it seemed to Terry, that the only option now, was to flee to the woods and just escape from everything. As a result, he had decided to join the Ascetic Vampires, older Bloodsuckers, so disgusted by their own natures and the outside world in general, that they had withdrawn from everything, and like the monks of antiquity, spent their lives in quiet contemplation whilst feeding off the local wildlife.
“You can bite anything except mortals and Red Squirrels, because we rather like them” declared a mud caked Vampire in a solemn voice, after his arrival in the community, a few week’s earlier, before immediately demanding his mobile phone and then handing him a shovel to dig a pit in the forest for his daytime slumber. It was hardly Maxwell’s luxury apartment or even the Vamp Inn, thought Terry, but despite the isolation and privation, his new circumstances seemed the perfect solution to all his woes, and for the first few days he had reveled in the peace and silence of Mother Nature. However his addiction to the 21st Century was strong and very soon his mind started to howl in pain, at its absence from the online world. His phone had been quite literally his life, and now, without its constant stream of input into his brain, he wiggled about in his earthen tomb, as if withdrawing from a drug. Once upon a time, he could sit for hours and just be, but not anymore and recalling a recent experiment at an American University, where after being deprived of their phones for only twenty minutes, students had pressed electrodes against their bare skin, preferring the pain of an electric shock to the tyranny of an un-stimulated mind, he now found himself digging his nails into his own flesh for some perverse relief.
Could it get any worse?
Not only was he a Vampire cursed to stalk the earth, living off the blood of his fellow mammals for the next two thousand years, but now at 103 years of age he was actually self-harming. How bloody humiliating was that? He’d be masturbating next? his thoughts whined, and for the next two hours he continued to excoriate himself for his unhappy existence until out of the darkness, a hand reached into his shallow grave and without warning, suddenly wrenched him to the surface.
“What? err…”
“Don’t worry Terry, the Sun has dipped behind the trees. You are safe.”
“My God! Hector!?”
“At your service my beautiful friend.”
“Hector!”
“Yes, yes, it is me.”
“What? Where the fuck!”
“Yes, yes, it has been a long time.”
“But! HECTOR!” screamed Terry, throwing his arms around his old friend, and hugging him with shouts of intense joy until two Vampire heads quickly popped out of the earth to interrupt their happy re-union.
“Do you mind, this is an Ascetic Community,” said one.
“I knew we shouldn’t have let him stay brother Julian, far too young for this kind of life,” said the other.
“Come Terry, let us leave these good men to their thoughts, and go for a walk, we have much to talk about,” replied Hector nodding apologetically to the outraged Ascetics before leading Terry towards a winding path in the woods.
“How the hell did you find me?”
“I talked to Maxwell and she told me that she had caught you looking at a brochure for the Ascetics once or twice before, and after that I just followed my nose.”
“My scent,” confirmed Terry with a knowing smile.
“I am bound by it and you mine. It is our bond since I turned you.”
“Oh yeah and thanks for that, by the way. You were my Commanding Officer,” said Terry, with a playful smile.
“And you, a raw recruit from England, come to fight the Fascists. A face carved in poverty, but I set you free. What? You regret your decision?” said Hector, coming to a halt with a sudden look of concern on his face.
“Well, no, but you never know how these things will turn out do you?” said Terry, shaking his head.
“But, you were perfect for this life, no? Curious, principled, singular even.”
“Principled?”
“Of course, I am extremely careful. I only turn the best of men.”
“Not sure about that Hector.”
“Well you should be. You know in a thousand years I have only turned six mortals. Three men and three women and except for two mistakes, I have always chosen well.”
“Mistakes? You?”
“Yes Terry. One man, I should have given the gift of extended life to, and one man I most definitely should not. But enough of that. What are you doing here Terry?”
“ Well…”
“Life is hard my friend.”
“Not like this Hector. It’s fucking awful, at the moment, seriously.”
“You always swear so much my gentle boy.”
“Well, so would you, if you’d seen what I’d seen. I don’t know where it all went fuc., err sorry, well you know, wrong. I’m Socialist, but now I am without a home and the work of the last 80 odd years has come to absolutely nothing. It’s all twisted. The Tories have now become the party of the poor, while the bloody Elites and the top twenty percent have completely taken over the Left and hate the people they’re supposed to represent. How the hell has that happened? I mean, it was bad enough in the Seventies, with every Tom, Dick and Harry out of Public School hi-jacking our causes, but, at least, back then you knew when they hit 30, they’d be off to become the Tory gits you always knew they were. But now the fuckers are staying. Scuse the French. Seriously Hector. The last Labour party meeting I went to, I didn’t hear one working class voice, not one and then all they did for most of the evening was make snidey remarks about knuckle dragging bigots who voted Brexit.
“Brexit? I have heard this word many times, since my return.”
“Well it’s driven everyone mad, and the chattering classes, got their noses put out of joint, big time, because the poor ruined their little racket, so now the word is basically code for white working class racist who shouldn’t be allowed to vote.”
“Ah the chattering classes. Yes. Maxwell tells me that you started biting them.”
“I did.”
“It solves nothing. How many my boy.”
“A few. A posh girl on a train, a political Speech Writer, a privately educated Radio One DJ. Even my Therapist.”
“You bit your Therapist?”
“He was called Jasper.”
“Is that a bad name?”
“Not really. But his attitude did my head in, so I bit him. It’s really fucked up. In fact, you’re completely wrong about me, Hector. I’m not good or principled or anything like that. I’m a psychopath, seriously. You should have bled me on that beach in Barcelona.”
”I know your heart, Terry, you are good. However, these homicidal tendencies, are not right. You will have to stop.”
“I’m trying, but it’s really hard. Fucking WML’s.”
“WML?”
“It’s what Maxwell calls ‘em. Stands for White Middle Class Liberal.”
“Well then, my friend, I’m a WML too.”
“No you’re not, you’re Jewish.”
“My dear Terry, the Jews are the original White Middle Class Liberals.”
“Yeah well you’re different aren’t you, and anyway its not just the Boutique Left, is it? I started hanging around with the other side as well, didn’t I? You know right wingers like Bane Vulpine and his mob and they’re the bastard same, well except for Maxwell of course, she’s great.”
“Yes, Bane? Such an idle boy, always has been. You mustn’t listen to him.”
“Well people do and his followers basically just want to keep everything the way it’s always been and then there’s Errol, who’s a mate of mine, but sold me out and has been entranced by Oscar.”
“Oscar? Oscar Fitzgerald, you mean?” interrupted the older Vampire with a frown.
“Err yeah, sorry, do you know him?”
“Oh yes, I know Oscar. So, still up to his old tricks then?”
“And the rest and then there’s this mortal called Lauryn, who I love but I can’t see, cos the Vampire Council will kill her and her son if I do.”
“You love a mortal?”
“Crazy, isn’t it?”
“It’s your youth, you still have human instincts. You must never love a mortal my dear boy. I told you that. Dear me, such trouble and so you come to the woods to stay with the most dead of the undead.”
“It’s better than going back.”
“This is no way to live my friend, you must fight.”
“I have no fight left, Hector. Its total rubbish, all of it, and I would rather stay in a shallow grave and let foxes piss on my face all day, than go back and endure all the hypocrisy and double talk. At least here, there’s some peace” spat back Terry sitting down on a tree stump and placing his face into his hands in resignation, while a woodpecker rapped his beak against the bark of a nearby Elm to break the silence of the forest.
“People are tribal Terry. It is the great curse of our existence and the hardest challenge for those who think as we do. It never changes and has broken my heart for a thousand years. All those people with so much in common, killing each other, hating each other. Fred Hampton knew this.”
“What, the Black Panther?”
“The Socialist, I prefer to call him. You know I knew him, well you met him, didn’t you when you came over to see me in New York in 1969? He was the brightest of all the stars in that time. He had such a fierce intelligence, the kind that you cannot teach, together with charisma, and an incredible heart. He understood that working class unity was the only important thing and that’s why they killed him. In fact, I was with him the night before and I even offered him the gift of extended life.”
“He was one of your regrets?”
“My greatest. I thrust my hand into his mind and asked him as I asked you, but he was unsure. I should have tried harder to persuade him, but then he went to a meeting and the next day he was dead. The FBI assassinated him with 200 bullets in his bedroom wall. I found out Dierdra Carswell was behind it.”
“That doesn’t surprise me, she’s a bitch.”
“She wasn’t always so. But I lodged a complaint with the International Vampire Council, that her actions were totally unnecessary and in direct contravention of our ancient remit not to interfere with mortal progress, but it was turned down, and so in my grief, I removed myself from the world.”
“Yeah, I remember that. I went to look for you, at your address in Brooklyn, but you’d gone.”
“I am sorry my friend, I should have said something, but I was not myself. A world that could kill Fred Hampton with such impunity was not a place I could live in so easily, and therefore I retreated to my books and shut everything out. But now I have returned, because I realized Fred Hampton was right. He was right in 1969 and he is right today. The direction of the new Left, may have been betrayed by Marcuse and the rest of those intellectual frauds who abandoned the workers and instead exploited minorities, so they could spread their ideas of Repressive Tolerance, shutting down any kind of debate, but, in reality, we do not have the choice to despair. Especially those, of us, blessed with extended life. So, we must fight on. This is what I learned in my exile. It is never over.”
“Not sure about that Hector, it’s proper bleak at the moment.”
“What about Lucius Noble?”
“You know him?”
“Not yet, but he intrigues me. He could be a new Hampton, a new James Connelly, a new Rosa Luxemburg. His eyes burn with the same passion.”
“True. He’s about the only decent one left,” said Terry, raising his head with a little more optimism.
“So, it’s agreed. You are coming back with me. After 50 years, I have returned to the world and you will join me. Come, let us tell the Ascetics that you are ready to leave. I’ll wager everything, it will make their day.”
“Oh definitely,” replied Terry with a grin, as the two Vampires began to stroll back, while a full moon in the night sky illuminated their way through the trees.
“By the way who was that other Vampire you mentioned? You know the one you shouldn’t have turned.” asked Terry, lowering his head under the branch of a tree,
“Oh him? Oscar,” replied Hector softly, before the two Vampires re-joined the path and wandered back towards the Ascetics.
*
“And Noah began to be an husbandman, and he planted a vineyard:
And he drank of the wine, and was drunken; and he was uncovered within his tent. And Ham, the father of Canaan, saw the nakedness of his father, and told his two brethren without. And Shem and Japheth took a garment, and laid it upon both their shoulders, and went backward, and covered the nakedness of their father; and their faces were backward, and they saw not their father’s nakedness.
And Noah awoke from his wine, and knew what his younger son had done unto him. And he said, cursed be Canaan; a servant of servants shall he be unto his brethren. And he said, Blessed be the Lord God of Shem; and Canaan shall be his servant. God shall enlarge Japheth, and he shall dwell in the tents of Shem; and Canaan shall be his servant.”
“There’s no mention of Ham being black, here?! Where the fuck does it say that the guy was black?” Errol’s thoughts now demanded as he lay the copy of his mother’s King James Bible on the kitchen table and shook his head.
The curse of Ham.
The Book of Genesis, Chapter 9, verses 20–27.
Ham was supposed to be black and was banished by his father, Noah, for apparently seeing him naked, although later biblical scholars said that this was merely a euphemism for something more serious and the old man might have actually been sodomised by Ham.
Who the hell would shag their own dad?
Well maybe only a black man.
Oh and let’s not forget “A servant of servants shall he be unto his brethren.”
Wasn’t wrong there was he?
The excuse for Slavery.
Noah, the original white supremacist.
You couldn’t make it up, could you? thought the Vampire, as everywhere, he seemed to turn, there was some more bullshit about the color of his skin. Africa was the Lost Continent, when in fact, if you could be bothered to read a book, about the Empires of Axum, Mali, and Greater Zimbabwe, you would realise most of it had been just as civilised as anywhere else. People had black hearts. Societies came out of a Dark Age. The Asians had issues, the Arabs routinely called black people “Abeed”, which means slaves; even the Aliens were racist, as Errol had never heard of a black man ever being abducted by little green men.
No wonder one billion people felt more than a little left out.
In fact, forget white people, even other black people were at it. Dragging each other down, like crabs in a bucket, where centuries of no confidence and constantly having to justify your human status, exacted a terrible price on the collective psyche. Now Errol’s fangs forced their way through his gums at the multi generational impotence of his own race and he seethed in silence, a little while longer, until the buzzing of his phone suddenly interrupted his increasing rage.
“Hi, really loved your profile, you sound perfect. Shall we meet in a Hotel. Naturally, everything will be paid for, plus your fee of course. Do you prefer cash? Might be easier. Anyhoo, meet you there Saturday at 8 pm, if that suits? By the way, I will have a hand-held camera, instead of a phone, hope that’s ok? The resolution is so much better. Text me if any issues, cheers Ben.”
Never trust anyone who puts “Naturally” in a text thought Errol staring at the message on his phone for a moment, before replying “Cool, I’ll be there” and then walking across the kitchen to pour himself a Scotch. Three days later, as arranged, the Vampire made his way to the reception bar of an exclusive hotel in the centre of London, and after looking around at the well coiffured heads of the wealthy clientele for a few seconds, he quickly recognised the couple from the picture on his phone, standing over at the corner of the bar.
“Hi?”
“Oh hi. I’m Ben and this is Sarah, pleased to meet you”
“Nice to meet you too.”
“Oh great, err didn’t know if you would recognise us or not,” said Ben.
“Yes, we are still a bit, err…” said Sarah
“Uncomfortable?” offered Errol
“Precisely. This is the first time, for both of us, and we’re, err, a little nervous,” confirmed Sarah with an anxious smile.
“Err have you come far, so to speak?” chipped in Ben, with a cheeky grin.
“West London,” replied Errol, smiling benignly at the little double entendre.
“Oh not far. We’re North. Err where in West London?” asked Sarah.
“Fulham.”
“Oh, lovely. We could only afford Canonbury.”
“Oh that’s nice too,” said the Vampire.
“Yes, we like it. So what do you do?” said Ben.
“I’m in PR.”
“Oh, really? That’s unusual. I mean, err, I wouldn’t have expected…”
“Oh God, shut up Ben, that’s so racist,” snapped Sarah
“Well err, no, no, all I meant was…”
“You didn’t expect, me to have such a professional job?” interrupted Errol, trying to diffuse any embarrassment.
“Well…”
“Or come from Fulham?”
“Err, well...”
“That’s fine, don’t worry. Appearances are designed to deceive, aren’t they? Especially in London. It’s totally understandable,” said the Vampire with a re-assuring smile.
“Oh thanks. Well obviously, I didn’t mean.”
“Oh God, shut up Ben. Would you like a drink?” interrupted Sarah, now turning towards Errol.
“Yes a whiskey, would be great,” said the Vampire, placing his elbow on the bar, while the woman in her mid thirties turned to order some drinks before they all proceeded to chat away for the next hour or so, mainly about the horrors of Brexit and how awful Boris Johnson was.
“Oh I feel much more relaxed now. Amazing what a few Martinis can do for you, isn’t it? Err, so shall we go up?” said Sarah, placing her glass on the bar and smiling at Errol.
“After you,” replied the Vampire finishing his drink before following the couple out of the bar towards the lift. A few minutes later, they all entered a large, luxurious bedroom, at which point Sarah nipped off to the bathroom to freshen up, while Ben immediately pulled out a small wrap of cocaine from his pocket and started emptying the contents onto a desk by the window.
“Oh, would you like some?”
“No I’m fine.”
“Oh really? It’s very good. Got it from a guy in Tottenham, I know”
“No you’re alright,” confirmed Errol, seating himself on the corner of the bed, just as Sarah returned from the bathroom, and then watched in silence as the couple busied themselves with snorting the cocaine and kissing each other, before Ben suddenly reached down for a hand held camera that had been lying on the floor.
“So, if you two would like get to know each other and I’ll find the best place to stand,” announced Ben, now circling the bedroom, as if he was filming a nature documentary.
“Cool, but before we start, please feel free to say anything you want. This is for you, after all. So just let yourself go, tell the truth. If you want to say I love your big black cock, then by all means say it. Have no filters, just say what you feel,” said Errol with a smile, as he rose from the bed and started to remove his jacket.
“Oh that’s fantastic,” said Ben.
“Yes, that makes it so much easier. Err okay, well erm, shall I take off your shirt, then?” asked Sarah, shyly moving towards Errol.
“If you like.”
“Oh I would so like. In fact, I couldn’t help looking at you in the bar. You have an amazing body.”
“Thank you.”
“And I saw that picture of your erm, you know on your profile. I hope it’s the same in real life?”
“Well, have a look for yourself,” said Errol, lowering his eyes towards his groin.
“I will. Oh my god it’s gorgeous,” said Sarah, after unzipping his fly.
“I will just put the camera here, and… Oh wow, didn’t see that,” exclaimed Ben, now resting his leg on the end of the bed to get a better angle.
“It’s heaven darling,” said Sarah, giving her husband a filthy smile, before she started to suck the Vampires cock.
“Do you like it” asked Ben, moving in closer.
“I do.”
“How much?”
“So fucking much.”
“Do you like to suck his big black cock?”
“I fucking love it, its so big and black.”
“Is it better than mine?” asked Ben
“So much better, this is a huge gorgeous black dick and yours is nothing in comparison.”
“Oh, can you say that again darling? But this time, can you say cock instead of dick, it sounds so much better.”
“Oh, of course darling. Yes, he has such big black cock, and it’s so much better than yours and I can’t wait to feel it inside my wet pussy,” gasped Sarah as she continued to concentrate on Errol’s mid-riff until the Vampire put his hand under her back and expertly eased her body onto the bed.
“Oh my god that’s fucking amazing,” cried Sarah, as Errol now began to rub the end of his cock against the lips of her pussy for a minute or two, before finally sliding himself inside her.
“That’s just Incredible. Let me film his big black cock going in and out of your pussy, yes that’s just perfect” said Ben sinking to his knees to shoot upwards, while his own penis started to harden inside of his chinos.
“Oh Jesus, oh God, that’s it, that’s it, oh my God, oh my God, that’s divine, keep it there, keep fucking me with your big black cock.”
“Yes, keep fucking her, incredible. In fact, you can turn her over, if you’d like,” offered Ben, helpfully.
“Oh that’s so deep, so fucking deep, I think I’m going to come again, Jesus you’re ramming me so hard, that’s right, that’s right, that’s right, fuck me, fuck me, black cock is so good, so fucking good,” cried Sarah, arching her back.
“Err, also, could you possibly spank her and call her a white bitch,” suggested Ben moving to the centre of the room to get a better shot.
“Sure. Something like, take my big black cock, you white whore,” said Errol looking back towards the camera.
“Perfect,” said Ben approvingly.
“Yes I’m a white whore,” joined in Sarah.
“Well you’re a white fraud actually,” said Errol with deadpan eyes, as he continued to fuck her harder.
“Err what? Err, yeah okay, that could work,” said Ben with a slight frown.
“Yes, a white hypocrite. Sign up for Black History Month, have BLM posters in your windows, but call the Police if you see more than two black kids, hanging around a lamp-post,” continued Errol, as he continued ram Sarah from behind.
“Look fella, err loving the new turn, but it’s a bit strong, don’t you think?” replied Ben, now looking a little concerned as he lowered the camera from his eye.
“You think?” said Errol turning his head towards the lens.
“Well yeah. Lets just keep it civil, shall we? We just want to have some fun,” said Ben, now letting the camera fall by his side as he placed a hand on his hip.
“Well, I’m having fun and Sarah’s having fun.”
“Yes I am, oh God that’s unbelievable, I’m coming again,” exclaimed Sarah, continuing to push back on Errol’s cock.
“Look we have paid you, and all we want is…”
“Is to get what you paid for? Course you do Ben. Big Black Cock wanted for curious couple. I get it. Want a new kick, bored with the same old same old. But you know, these days, I see so much of this crap online, that every time I see BBC now, I’m not thinking of Match of the Day or Have I Got News For You any more. I’m thinking of sex. Fucking racist sex.”
“Actually, I work for the BBC, in marketing,” offered Sarah, breathlessly, and coming again on the Errol’s cock, while Ben now stared back at Errol with a look of betrayal in his eyes.
“But you said that it was alright…”
“And I did, but you didn’t have to do it though, did you? And it didn’t take too much persuading to see the people you really are. So black men are good for Rapping and Fucking yeah? And maybe knifing each other to death in Tottenham so you can bang some Charlie up your nose?” said Errol, suddenly pulling his cock out from inside the woman and placing his hands on hips.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on here, but like Ben said, we just want to have a good time” said Sarah, now more than a little upset that the sex had stopped so abruptly, before sitting up on her knees and deciding it was time get to grips with the situation. However, the Vampire completely ignored her protests, and instead, lunged forward, to grab her husband by the shirt. In seconds he had plunged his fangs deep into the man’s neck, and as the blood spurted everywhere, the Vampire drank deeply for a few seconds, before he quickly turned all of his attention towards the terrified face of the woman.
In less than five minutes it was all over, and as Errol stepped away from the bed and grinned at the reflection of his crimson mouth and blood spattered body in the full length of the bedroom mirror, he felt no remorse and their blood tasted good.