He got back to his apartment once more, weariness and dejection usurping the venom cravings. He opened the door to find a letter lying on the doormat. Dom picked it up and checked the front. Written on it in hard block capitals was: ‘MR DOMINIC DEMPSEY’. Dom opened it up and removed the letter. He knew straight away it was something angry. ‘NOTICE OF EVICTION’ it read.
And it didn’t get any better.
‘To Mr. Dominic Dempsey. Notice is hereby given that you are in default in payment of rent. You are hereby required to pay the amount of rent due, or to leave the premises within seven (7) days after the service of this notice.
Failure to pay the full amount of rent in arrears will result in an eviction detainer lawsuit filed with the County Court.
Yours sincerely, Christopher Cushing (Landlord).’
Dom threw his head back and groaned. That was all he needed. Suddenly, he didn’t know where to turn. There was no family to go back to, and now there wasn’t even any venom to go back to either. And soon, he’d have no home.
He trudged back into his lounge and looked around, lightheaded. He didn’t have any readily available cash money that he knew of. His memory was so mashed, he could have a swag bag full of diamonds stuffed beneath the floorboards and he wouldn’t even know it. As far as he was concerned, he had a few bills in his wallet and that was all.
He collapsed onto his sofa, an exhausted heap. Confusion and fear reigned in his mind. What the hell is happening? What have I done to deserve this, man? What?
He sat up on the sofa and stared at the blank TV. His tired expression faced him. What do I do? What do I do?
Then a thought surfaced from the chaotic soup in his mind.
There must be others, dude. I mean other people like you who were or are victims of vamps.
Dom nodded. Yeah, there was that other fanghead in the basement. The one he smashed with an empty bottle.
No, others. People who’ve escaped from them. People like you. Maybe networking is the only place left. Maybe they can help you.
Dom sighed. “Okay, but how am I gonna find them?” he asked the empty room.
The answer hit him in an instant. He clicked his fingers, got up and grabbed the laptop sitting on the coffee table. He flicked it on. He went straight to Google and typed in ‘vampire’. He got 1.2 million hits.
No, dummy. You gotta be more specific than that. Try ‘vampire escapees’.
Okay...
He typed it in. Google asked him if he meant ‘vampire escape’.
He sighed. Man, I was never any good at this Internet stuff. Eddie was the geeky one.
Then, a sudden realization dawned on him. If there really were other ex-fangheads out there, they wouldn’t wanna freely advertise it on the web. There was a personal safety issue at play. Hey, maybe vampires use the Internet too, you never know...
He remembered Eddie showing him something, a trick to get to parts of the web known as the deep web, the dark web. Eddie said that was where all the crazy stuff was, and where you could get anything you wanted. You could only get to it with something called a proxy browser, which masked your identity, meaning you could surf the dark web anonymously; the only way you were able to.
You can betcha bottom dollar that’s where the ex-fangheads are, buddy...
Dom got to work. He installed the software he needed to mask his IP, recalling the instructions Eddie showed him. He brought up the proxy server, which gave him access to the deep web. And then, in the blink of an eye, the truly weird stuff was all available. He managed to get a list of encrypted web addresses from a proxy search engine after typing in ‘vampire escapees’. Screw Google. After a brief bit of surfing, he found a plain text message board on a black background where random people were openly discussing all the strange things out there. Alien encounters, secret service surveillance, mind control victims, strange creature sightings. Werewolves, zombies, yetis. And another sub heading read: vampires. Dom immediately clicked it. With baited breath, the page loaded. Up flicked a list of messages with replies. Dom scanned them.
HELP!! ADDICTED TO VENOM! CAN’T GET AWAY! HELP!!!
GOT JABBED BY A VAMPIRE LAST NIGHT, NOW WANT MORE!!!111
VAMPIRE ICED ME. I NOW THINK I’M IN LOVE...
Dom’s eyes lit up. His head spun like Beetlejuice. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He scrolled down, the messages and replies went on and on.
VAMPIRE BIT ME.
VAMP ATTACK.
EX-VENOM ADDICT.
He wasn’t alone...
Relief bombed in his heart like an anvil; it mushroomed up his lungs and escaped out of his mouth in a satisfied gasp. He grabbed his head and ran his hands through his hair.
An excited chuckle escaped him. I can’t believe it. Where the hell did all this come from?
This stuff was hidden form the mainstream consciousness. It lay under the surface like a bubbling geyser, always there, never a threat, but just waiting to explode. Maybe...
His fingers sprang into life, ready to get to work networking and putting all the emotions down for the others to see, to get it all out. His fingertips touched the keys, and then he stopped dead. Another thread caught his eye: WHY DON’T SOME1 JUST KILL THESE MOFOS? Dom clicked the link, the first reply read: Yeah, where’s Van Helsing when you need him? I’d clean out my wallet for that guy’s help.
To which, someone replied: He’s prolly busy sleeping, just like the rest of society...
And with that, something else now dropped into his mind, taking things on a step further from where he was currently at.
How about hunters, buddy? his mind threw up to him. If all these guys are here complaining, there may even be hunters by now...
Dom leant back. Hunters? he contemplated, rubbing his chin.
Yeah, the old Van Helsing character. Like a hitman but focusing on vampires.
Then another delicious notion swirled in his consciousness. Hey, buddy, maybe you could... become one yourself. Earn a few bucks taking these things down. You know, create a niche market for yourself, get you out of debt. How about that for an idea?
Dom nodded. It sounded great. Meant he could make some cash while helping these other guys out. He knew how they felt. The loneliness, the helplessness, the fact no one would believe you. You existed on the fringes of society, in the dark part, the underbelly; the dark web. No one to talk to, no one to understand you. All cause of vampires, creatures of the night and their addictive venom. Dom’s heart went out to every one of the victims who were reaching out on this bizarre message board. And he wanted to help them all.
“Yeah, I’ve got nothing to lose now. I wanna help. And I’m gonna.”
He got back to work.
He now searched for classifieds. Specifically weird, bizarre classifieds. Soon, he found himself on another plain text site with obligatory black background, the white text glowing like phantasms. On it were various ads: weird dating, strange requests. There was an advert for an exorcist, another seeking an expert in voodoo, and another looking for a hitman. Someone else needed a curse lifted. Dom shook his head. Then, something caught his eye. In capital letters:
VAMPIRE HUNTER NEEDED. DISCRETION ESSENTIAL.
Excellent reimbursement guaranteed to right candidate.
Bingo!
Dom leant back and rubbed his hands. “Excellent reimbursement, huh?”
That means lots of money, buddy.
Yeah, I know that, thanks.
But, can you handle it, this early?
He puffed his cheeks and looked around his lounge. “I’ll have to handle it. Otherwise, it’s cardboard city for me.”
Then, you know what to do.
Dom nodded his head and clicked ‘send message’.