The rest of the week was a frenzy of venom withdrawal. He paced around the apartment in a hot fugue, desperate to work out his next move. The venom cravings weren’t making it easy; they were too strong, too hard, especially at night. His skin itched, his brain demanded like a spoiled brat. The saving grace was that venom wasn’t readily available as say booze or smack. In Chicago, it was easy to score an eight-ball of coke, but vampire venom? That was a little more tricky.
He knew a place where he could get a fix, though...
He was perched on the edge of his bed, rubbing his upper arms, a chill coursing through him as the venom hunger bit once more. He rocked back and forth, his mind urging him to make the trip. Go back across town to that basement. Knock on the door, say sorry you messed up, you won’t do it again, just calm that itch...
It would be easy. Hey, if he said it nice enough, the father might even give him a double dose. His eyes rolled to the ceiling. That would be nice... He’d have to apologize to the guy he cracked a bottle over too. Hopefully, he didn’t hold grudges...
He wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He knew it was a bad idea. He’d managed by some stroke of good fortune to get the hell outta there, and now he was contemplating going back? Was he crazy? The cold truth was that he had nothing to get the hell outta there for. Dad and Eddie were gone, nowhere to be found. Not a trace and he had no idea where to find them. He had no cash, no job to go back to, and an irate landlord demanding payment or it was cardboard city time. Maybe that basement was all he had, maybe that was why he ended up there in the first place. The only refuge for a loser like him. At least there he had a permanent home, a purpose, a function. At least there was someone there who loved him. The Father. And at least Dom loved him back. Well, the venom part at least. The venom destroyed all the negative crap in his life, blotted over it like a kid with a crayon. He didn’t know how long he could last living with the itch and nothing else going on in his life.
He flopped back on his bed and sighed, rubbing his hot eyes. All the while, that itch was gnawing away at him. Go back there. Just go back, there’s nothing for you here. The Father needs you. He wants you. He loves you. Just go and wash the pain away, take the itch away. Go back to where you were happy. Go back. Go back. Go back...
And never leave.
Dom’s eyes snapped open to a gloomy room. He shot up to his feet and marched to the front door.
*****
Nightfall descended by the time he reached the basement.
The whole journey he felt like a junkie gagging for a fix. The edginess, the anxiety had engulfed him and he was biting his nails, his eyes darting everywhere, taking in everything. He walked with a purpose, his stride rapid and unflinching. It was the journey he’d made the night he escaped but in reverse. Anticipation had been rising in his stomach from the moment he left the apartment block. It had grown and blossomed the closer he got to that basement. Entwined with it was a depressing resignation. A sense of failure; he’d managed to break his binds, now his situation was so desperate, he was willing to run and have them tied back on. He watched Chicago pass by with heavy eyes.
At least I won’t have to worry about anything...
I got nothing to live for anyways...
The bus dropped him off at Oakland, just as a shower of rain began pounding the surrounding concrete. He trotted off down the streets, hoping the Father wouldn’t be too angry with him. The degradation greeted him like a brother; like Eddie would have if he could’ve found him.
No such luck, buddy. Eddie’s probably as dead as you by now.
He turned onto Matheson, knowing that was the street where the basement was. He passed by derelict homes, boarded up windows, trash covered sidewalk. He stepped through it all, what was once a thriving hub of life, now a dead zone of destitute poverty.
Man, what happened to this city?
I don’t care anymore. Not my problem. It’s all over for me.
He stopped dead, and keeping his head bowed, took in a deep breath of dirty air.
He was home. His real home. He slowly turned his head to the side, to be greeted by the building that stood atop the basement. His basement. His home...
He stepped up to the railings and took hold of them; they were icy. He moved to the head of the steps leading down to that basement and peered into the darkness below. He took a look around. The coast was clear. Just a rain-swept, dirty street. He set off down the steps, his feet scratching across the cement, the sound echoing all around him. The darkness swallowed him once he reached the foot of the steps. He stood amongst the wet trash, the sound of falling rain hammering all around him while he stared at the door leading to the basement. He reached out a trembling hand for the handle, hoping it wasn’t locked. It wasn’t. The door came open, releasing more darkness from beyond. He became still, his heart stopping dead.
Once you go through this door, there’s no turning back.
He closed his eyes, the venom cravings fizzing behind his eyelids.
He nodded. I know. I know...
Time to say goodbye to the world...
He threw his eyes open, then the door; it swung away with a loud creak. He stood in the doorway, his chest puffed out, his arms outstretched, the rain pounding down around him. His wide eyes took in the whole scene, with the expectation of falling upon the Father and the other fanghead, who’d welcome him home.
They searched the whole room. It was empty.
Dom’s jaw dropped. No...
He stepped drunkenly into the basement, his head rolling in its socket. “Father?” he said in a loud voice. He was answered by silence.
A familiar musk hit his nostrils and his head began swimming. “Father!” he repeated, but his voice was wavering.
He threw out a hand, finding the light switch. He flicked it on. The hollow chamber lit up in an instant. His pupils adjusted. A horrible anti-climax set in, just like back in Bachman Road. He looked around; the floor was smothered with the usual litter: hamburger cartons, soda cups, torn remnants of old clothes. His eyes fell upon the old septic tank. The Father’s crypt. He darted over to it, with an involuntary gasp. He gripped its edges and looked into it, hope rising inside his chest. It all came crashing down once he saw that it was empty. Crestfallen, he turned away and faced the litter-strewn floor. He surveyed it with apathetic eyes. They were gone. And so was his last chance...
Something by his feet caught his attention. He frowned. He craned his neck in closer, then bent down on his haunches. He stared down at the pieces of torn photo strewn over the ground. With a trembling finger, he picked a piece up and held it to the light. Caught in the section of torn photo was Dad; Dad’s smiling face in the sunshine. Something then displaced the gnawing anxiety in Dom’s heart. Love. Love for Dad. His lips trembled alongside his hand as he wiped a tear from his eye. Was he really alone in this world? Where was Dad? Where was Eddie? He rummaged around, finding more torn photo. He found pieces of Eddie. While he stared at his smiling brother, his fingers fell upon the dog tag hanging around his neck. Somewhere, somewhere out there Eddie had a similar tag around his neck. Brothers.
Where are you, little guy? Where are you?
He suddenly gripped the dog tag tight, just as more tears squeezed from between his eyelids.