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                                  Andrew Roller Presents

                                    Till Death Do Us Part

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                                           Chapter Four

         Vicky is playing in the park.  We are outside the hospital.  We first 
met here and it is strange to be back.  I see two people sitting on a bench, 
under a lamp in the park, enjoying the evening air.  I listen to them talking.  
One of the voices sounds familiar.
         ÒItÕs annoying to see one of your patients on a milk carton when you 
go to the supermarket,Ó a bald-headed man tells a man with grey hair 
sitting beside him.  The man with grey hair lights a pipe.
         ÒA milk carton?Ó he asks.
         ÒYes,Ó the bald-headed man says.  ÒPerhaps I should call her a 
former patient.  Vicky Valhalla, age 10.  Last seen in my pediatric ward.Ó
         ÒYou lost a patient?Ó
         ÒNot in the traditional sense.  She didnÕt die.  Just disappeared.Ó
         ÒOh.  ThatÕs worse.Ó
         ÒI know,Ó the bald-headed man says.  ÒOf course her mother is 
suing.Ó  
         ÒI guess IÕd sue too, if it were me,Ó the man with the pipe says.  
         ÒBut thereÕs something about Vicky that troubles me,Ó the bald-
headed man says.  ÒIt isnÕt just her disappearance.  When I examined her 
she had pronounced canine teeth.Ó  
         ÒReally?Ó
         ÒYes.  In the confusion following her disappearance I didnÕt--  What 
was that?Ó
         ÒEh?Ó
         I slip deeper into the shadows.  I watch the two doctors from behind.  
I can smell their cologne, the smoke from the grey-headed manÕs pipe.  I 
let the sensation of their living, breathing, pulsing bodies fill me.
         ÒHearing things, Doctor Westfall?  Perhaps itÕs your lost patient,Ó 
the man with the pipe says.
         ÒAh, I guess it wasnÕt anything.Ó
         ÒSome child is playing over in those trees.Ó
         ÒThat mustÕve been it.  Anyway, I didnÕt get to speak to the girlÕs 
mother about her teeth.  Since then, her mother and I havenÕt been on 
speaking terms.Ó
         ÒItÕs nothing orthodontics canÕt fix.  I had sharp canines myself when 
I was 10.  TheyÕve since been polished flat.  See?Ó  The grey-headed man 
takes the pipe from his mouth.  He opens his mouth and shows the bald-
headed man his teeth.
         ÒPhew!  You have bad breath, Donalds.Ó
         ÒOh.  Sorry.  But you saw my teeth?Ó
         ÒYes, the lamp light illuminated your mouth all too well.  I suggest 
you see a dentist, doctor.Ó
         ÒThanks.  I suggest you see a dietician.Ó
         The bald-headed man lets out a harrumph.  Then, after a momentÕs 
pause, he continues:  ÒThe girl had pale skin.  It was excessively pale.  Her 
mother brought her in for excessive precocity, but thatÕs nothing compared 
to the diagnosis IÕve made.Ó
         ÒOh, really?  WhatÕs that?Ó the man with the pipe asks.  ÒDo you 
prescribe a sun tan, doctor?Ó
         ÒIn a manner of speaking.  Do you remember those two policemen in 
the news, the ones who were killed?  The ones who looked like they had 
been mauled by dogs?Ó
         ÒHmmm...Ó the man with the pipe takes his pipe out of his mouth and 
muses.  ÒI think... perhaps... there are stories like that all the time in the 
news.  What of it?Ó
         ÒWhat if a missing 10-year-old girl did it?Ó
         ÒA dietician and a psychiatrist, doctor.  First thing in the morning.Ó
         ÒDamn you, Donalds!  Have you ever looked under V in the surgical 
library?Ó
         ÒX and Z, but not V, doctor.  Sorry,Ó the man with the pipe replies.
         ÒDamn you, Donalds!Ó the bald-headed man cries.  ÒIÕm serious.  Look 
under V sometime!  V for vampire!Ó
         The man with the pipe laughs.  His laughter passes through the trees 
and I feel Vicky, far down among the trees, pause and listen.  It is easier 
for me to sense now what she is doing, though I cannot read her thoughts.  
She can read mine, when she wishes to.  I try to focus my mind on her and I 
tell her not to move.  I do not wish for her to be discovered.  I do not know 
if she can understand what I am telling her from this distance.  Perhaps 
she is too far away, for I sense that she begins moving again.  She is 
chasing squirrels.
         ÒYou like guns, donÕt you, Donalds?Ó the bald-headed man asks.
         ÒYes.  They keep business up and theyÕre fun to shoot besides,Ó the 
man with the pipe answers.
         ÒGo shooting out in the country too, sometimes, donÕt you?Ó
         ÒOf course.Ó
         ÒNot afraid to walk in the dark, are you, doctor?Ó
         ÒNope.Ó
         ÒDid you notice those two policemen were armed?  And that they 
both fired their weapons?Ó
         ÒSo?Ó
         ÒHigh velocity objects pass through a vampire.  To kill one you need 
something that moves with relative slowness.  Like, for instance, a 
stake.Ó
         ÒA wooden stake, doctor?Ó the man with the pipe asks.
         ÒYes.  Or, if you do wish to rely on bullets, doctor, they need to be 
silver.  Pure silver.  Those are the only high velocity objects that can take 
down a vampire.Ó
         ÒIÕll remember to melt down my wifeÕs silver when I get home,Ó the 
man with the pipe laughed.
         ÒIÕm serious, doctor.Ó
         ÒIÕm sure you are, doctor,Ó the man with the pipe answered.  ÒI still 
suggest you see a psychiatrist in the morning, however.Ó
         I move close.  I approach them from behind.  They are a juicy target.  
I dislike the lamp they are sitting under but it is night, and the lamp light 
is artificial.  IÕll kill them both and then drag them into the bushes to suck 
their blood.  Vicky will be happy.
         ÒHere.  Let me show you something,Ó the bald-headed man says to his 
companion.  As I creep up behind them he rummages in his white coat.  He 
finds what he is looking for and lifts it up.  The light from the lamp 
illuminates it.
         I feel myself scream.  Both men look startled.  Vicky, down amidst 
the trees, chasing squirrels, pauses abruptly.  The bald-headed man is still 
holding the object up, where it catches the light from the over head lamp.  
It is a cross!
         ÒGood Lord!  What was that?  It sounded like something from beyond 
the dead!Ó
         ÒNot beyond the dead, doctor!  The undead!Ó
         ÒYouÕre crazy, Westfall!Ó
         Looking frightened as I myself am, but more resolute than I can be, 
the bald-headed man lifts high the cross.  It shines in the light and I 
crouch in the shadows, overcome with fear.
         ÒRun, doctor!  Run!Ó the bald-headed man cries.
         ÒWhat?  I donÕt see anything!Ó the man with the pipe replies.  His 
voice is two octaves too high and he sounds scared.
         ÒNeither do I!  But thereÕs something in those bushes-- run!Ó
         ÒGood heavens, Westfall!  IÕll have a heart attack!Ó the man with the 
pipe complains.  But he lets the bald-headed man hustle him along, up the 
walkway that leads to the hospital.  All the way Doctor Westfall holds 
high his cross, and I cannot follow as long as I see it. 

30

vamp game-chap 5 (or running fr mental institut?)

nobody noticed that I wasnÕt breathing
mist creeping in
mortals come out to play
She canÕt play, he says.  SheÕs too young
YouÕre dead.  He is told.  I cast a (blank) spell
SheÕs as cold as they come

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