Suburban Vampire: A Tale of the Human Condition -- With Vampires

Chapter 22

"Well, isn't that weird?" came a familiar, and unwanted, voice.

Scott jerked his neck around to see someone he really didn't think he'd see, certainly not here. "Jack! What the hell are you doing here?" That's not the sign I wanted! "This is holy ground! And besides, you're not supposed to be in contact with me. Isn't that what Father said?"

"What Father don't know won't hurt him. And this 'holy ground' here? Hell, you're here, Scott! Think about that. This is just a building. The spirit of God isn't in the building. It's in people. But I thought you knew that. And hey, I see you got over the whole vampire slash cross thing. My boy is growing up!"

"I am not your boy, Jack. Wait a minute. The vampire versus cross thing—you mean that doesn't work, either?"

"No! Well, it does on young vampires, usually. Obviously not with you. Freaks them out. After a while, you just learn to deal. But really, crosses are just two boards nailed together. Ooooh, scary!"

"So crosses don't harm vampires?"

"Well, they are sort of depressing, but unless the cross has some sort of special origin, or is specially blessed or invested with special power, or made of silver, no, they really don't do anything, not on their own. Sure, the symbolism is kind of vexing, but other than that, only new vampires tend to get really stressed out by 'em. Immaturity, I guess. But I can see you've already overcome the cross issue. Good for you."

"I don't want to get over it. I never want to get over it."

"Well, boo-fucking-hoo. Scott, I gave you a gift, a great gift. A gift of power. A gift of strength. You can have it all—money, power, sex. Lots of sex. You can have so much more than you did when you were a mere mortal!"

"Well, I don't want it. I never did. I want my life back. I want my soul. I want to be normal."

"Jesus, Scott, you never were normal. You know it. And now you are so much more. But no, you're crying about the state of your soul. Begging your God for salvation! 'God, make me a pathetic loser again! I want that pie in the sky when I die!' Amen, hallelujah! You make me sick. Look at what I have given you. That power, the immortality—real immortality. Not some nebulous concept of future glory, but here, now. Your God didn't give you that. I did. I made you a god among men. And this is the thanks I get."

"Jack, you couldn't possibly understand."

"Well, that's the understatement of the year. Of course, now the whole immortality thing may be a moot point anyway, depending on what the Inquisitor finds. But I have an out, Scott. You don't need to face an inquisition. I have friends. They are waiting for you. They want to help you. Join us, Scott. Join us and live."

"No. No, I am going to face this Inquisitor and leave the rest in God's hands."

Jack rolled his eyes. "More of the God crap. Give it up already! Use your brain, Scott. What kind of defense can you mount anyway?"

"The prophecies. We are going to refer to a couple different prophecies about—"

"Humpf! Prophecy, shmophecy. I hate to tell you this, but all those prophecies about the chosen one, the deliverer, are all a bunch of bull. Lies encouraged by the House to keep vampires in line. And you are basing your future on the possibility that the Inquisitor may be impressed by some old ink stains in some musty old book that may be entirely misinterpreted anyway? Good luck with that. There ain't no deliverer, and you ain't him. End of story. Don't burn up your future on that shit. Be reasonable. Join me. I can help you."

"You can help me? Really? Some help you've been. Your 'help' almost got me killed. And you got me into this mess in the first place! I've had enough of your help. And here I was, thinking you had turned me because of some crazy misinterpretation of the prophecies. But that's not why you did it, is it?"