Mr. Rupert, The Recluse

There once was a man by the name of Rupert who lived in a castle far upon an old, grassy hill. And never once did that man come out of that castle, for he was terrified of the sun. In fact, not only was he terrified of the sun, but he was terrified of light, any kind of light, as well. And so he sat in his castle, day by day shrouded in darkness. The curtains never were drawn open, forced to everyday block him from the outside world… to block him from the light. Sometimes, when I tell people this story, it often ponders upon me, the question of why this man would choose to live such a life, as it has probably entered upon your mind, as well. Some have supposed that maybe he was just a little wacky in the head; yet, others have said that he didn’t even have a head. Nobody knows what he looks like, right? Either way it still makes for a good story.
As you imagine, there were some major drawbacks to having live a life without leaving the house. One of these was food. Because he never left the house, he was unable to supply himself with such needs. He could not grow his food in the darkness of his house, but he still would not leave for the market. But one thing that he could do, was draw it. Today we know for a fact, that he was a very skilled artist, having found many magnificent paintings scattered around what is now only the remains of that once grand castle. One could describe those paintings as so real, they could jump right off the canvas. And they did just that. That is how it happened; He painted his food, and it came right off the page. But, then one could ask how he received the paint, the brushes and the canvas. Well, that is still a mystery, as with the knowledge of how he even knew what food looked like. But we must not ponder. We must listen to the story.
One day while Mr. Rupert was drawing up his food, he heard a noise. It didn’t sound good. Not that he heard noises often, of course, since he was all alone, but it sounded like a slight flutter, one that could only be made from the curtains which held back the light. The curtains never made any noise at all, except for this occasion. And that thought frightened him. Have my beloved curtains fell? So, he braced himself, forgetting his food, and slowly peeked around the corner. What he saw would change his life forever. The curtains were sprawled across the floor, in heaps. He sprang backward, for fear of the light reaching his eyes. But, when he took a better look at the scene in the other room, he could see no light or shadows, and so, out of curiosity, he slowly crept around the corner to investigate. And he was delighted by what he saw! Instead of looking straight into a huge, yellow ball of flaming fingers, he saw no light at all; only darkness.
He jumped up and down, and started to sing and dance, and sing and dance with glee.
“The sun has died, the sun has died!” He cried into the darkness.
But, what this man did not know, was that it was only nighttime, and the sun was to come up very soon, again, and fill up the sky once more with light. So he asked himself, should I dare to venture outside? I haven’t been out for so many years; maybe it would be nice just to take a peek at how things are going. I could do anything now, without the presence of light weighing me down. I shall go.
So, he crept up to the front entrance of the castle, to the door. He never had opened this door before, never in almost eighty years; and he was doing so now. The entire thing was covered in thick cobwebs, and bolted securely into the framework. How am I ever doing to open this? Then he thought of an idea. He would draw up a cannon, and blast that door open. And so he did. He stood there, in front of the hole, and looked out into the vast darkness.
“Freedom!” He cried. And with that, he ran out into the open of the outside world. Immediately his lungs rejoiced, having never breathed in fresh air in over eighty years. He was so alive now. He felt that he could do anything. Tears formed in his eyes, and he began to cry, and cry, and cry with happiness. 1

Part II2

All the residents of Hamsterville were sound asleep in their beds. The church bell had long tolled it’s last cry, a night owl lay perched in the security of it’s nest, and farmer Joe had put up his plow for another day. And if a villager just happened to wake up a three o’clock that night, he might have just seen a crazy man skipping across the cobblestone streets singing happy melodies into the still night air.
Sparsely clothed, and wild, stringy hair flying in the night breeze, Mr. Rupert was your perfect embodiment of a recluse. His face was unshaven, revealing a rather scary form of beard, his white shirt was covered in both small and large holes, a pair of patched jeans lay barely on his ghostly white legs, and deep, dark pits rested under his eyes. If a lonely night walker were to stumble upon this man in the lonely hours of nighttime, she would certainly come to believe that he was none other than a filthy thief off to rob a house or two, and would have promptly fetched the police in a blink of an eye. But, there were no walkers out, and if there were any life present on the streets of Hamsterville at such an hour at all, you could almost certainly guarantee that it was only a small, gray little mouse nibbling on a delicious delicacy of Swiss cheese.
Mr. Rupert stood in the middle of the street for a second, taking in the surroundings. He marveled upon the sight of so many buildings, trees, and other items that, before the present moment, he had never laid eyes on. There were shops, stables, churches, theatres; so many marvelous structures! His eyes darted from one to the next, taking in the beautiful surroundings. Could this be a dream, he wondered? Not entirely certain was he, that his present being was truly a reality, he gave himself a hard pinch on the cheek. Having felt the pain, he knew that he was truly there, and once more began to sing and dance, and sing and dance with utmost happiness.
He continued in this state for about half an hour, finally stopping when he heard a sound distant from the alleyway to his right. He studied the dark, and gloomy alleyway, (which was much to his liking) and asked if anyone was there.
At first, there was no reply, so he simply decided that he had only heard the sound of a brick falling, or something of that sort. But, after a few minutes of puzzlement, a man came striding out of the alley.
Of course, Mr. Rupert was very much startled, having never seen another man in his lifetime, and let out a small cry and leaped back in terror. The man’s face was milky white, much like Mr. Rupert’s, with dark, black hair, and two piercing red eyes. His attire included a long, ornamental like cape, and a golden crown atop his head. But, the most striking feature of all, was the pair of two white fangs protruding his mouth. If it were any other person there in the presence of that monster, they certainly would have screamed and fled for their life. But, it was no ordinary person. In fact, the person greeted by such a figure had never even seen another person before in his life, and so, was not in any way taken aback by such an appearance.
The man took two long strides toward Mr. Rupert, who mocked, and retreated two long strides back. Aware that his friend seemed frightened, the man gestured and replied that he meant no harm, and there was no reason to be frightened. Mr. Rupert, however, was petrified. Is this truly what I look like? He stared at the man for a moment, trying to decide whether to address this man as a friend, or someone he should be very afraid of. After several moments of study, he determined that this man meant no harm, seeing as there were no weapons or anything that could be of possible danger, and gave the man a small hint of a smile.
The other man’s face suddenly went from very serious to very happy, and instantly expressed his emotions by revealing his large, glowing set of pearly whites, and shiny bloodthirsty fangs. He said that his name was Tyrus, and inquired about Mr. Rupert’s. Mr. Rupert stared at “Tyrus” for a minute more, and finally replied in a quivering voice, that his name was, Tom Rupert. Tyrus reached out a hand towards Mr. Rupert, who instantly sprang back, and began to run. But, when Mr. Rupert found that his hand had stopped in midair, he realized that the man’s intentions were not to harm him, and decided that it must be some form of greeting. Mr. Rupert tilted his head, as if in deep thought, and finally stretched out his own which was a good two feet away from Tyrus’ hand. Tyrus laughed, and patted Mr. Rupert on the back, who seemed very unsettled by this stranger touching him. Although a little close, Mr. Rupert thought, he is a very nice man… But, maybe a bit too nice.
With his arm still wrapped around Mr. Rupert, he began to lead him into the alleyway. They walked very slow, and talked as they proceeded into the dark mouth of the old abyss. At first, Mr. Rupert did not favor the idea of being led into such a cramped space by some man he didn’t even know, and slightly hesitated when Tyrus began to walk. But, Tyrus seemed like a decent man, and so he followed. The man insisted that they were only going to a small tavern located right in the back of the alley, and would not be but another twenty or so steps away. Reluctantly, Mr. Rupert continued on, listening to the man talk, and chatting a bit himself. They were just getting into a discussion about buildings and architecture, when Mr. Rupert noticed that a shadow seemed to be growing at his feet. At first he didn’t realize what it was, so he just kept on walking and ignored it completely. But when Tyrus suddenly stopped and quickly glanced behind, Mr. Rupert could see that terrible yellow glint of flaming fingers in his eyes.
Mr. Rupert was petrified, and couldn’t move. Tyrus, on the other hand was already hurtling down the alley running at stop speed. Mr. Rupert, of course, didn’t want to be left alone, and ran after him, without even the slightest glance behind. Never had Mr. Rupert ran so fast in his life. He could feel the warmth of the sun on the back of his neck, and knew that there was little time before the light began to eat him. He ran faster and faster through the now lit alley, almost stumbling once when his foot met an uneven tile. He pounded hard on the old wooden door, screaming for someone to let him in. He was kicking and screaming at the top of his lungs, and almost broke the door into splinters, when suddenly the door was violently pulled open, and a pair of long, scraggly arms yanked him inside the dark room. 3

Part III4

In the old alleyway between the cloth factory, and the blacksmith shop was a small tavern, which was called home to many a vampire. Each week, a meeting would be held, where all the vampires from Hamsterville and the surrounding areas would come to meet to socialize with others of their kind, and to share devious, wicked plans of murder and kidnapping. They would talk about blood, cows, and chickens, and all the ways of trapping your victims. They would have drinking parties, with glasses filled to the brim with chicken blood, with small floating delicacies of pieces of bodily organs floating around inside (The cherry on top). But, today, there was something new to talk about…Mr. Rupert.
Mr. Rupert was quickly snatched and hurried into the room. The door behind him was hastily shut with a loud bang, and the room was suddenly shuttered in darkness. He could tell from the dim outline of things, that he was surrounded by a whole group of people, all with a hungry look on their face.
“What do we have here?” A lady came forward dressed in the same attire as the man he saw previously, and pushed Mr. Rupert into an old, wooden chair. Mr. Rupert was lost for words, and the only thing he was thinking about was that terrible flesh-eating light. Somehow the sun must have revived. How could that be? The lady reached behind her somewhere in the darkness, and brought back a mug of beer, which she offered to Mr. Rupert. He replied in a quivering voice that he was fine, and didn’t want it at the moment (Actually, he had ho idea what it was.). The lady shrugged her shoulders, and tossed it over her head, barely missing a man right behind her who had quickly jumped away from the passing bullet.
She noticed the petrified state of Mr. Rupert, and screamed at the rest of her vampire minions to back off, and that they would get their lunch soon enough. The rest were sent off grumbling and complaining.
“So sorry about that, my dear. Now tell me, what could have possibly brought you out at such an hour? The world isn’t as good as it once was, and I’m sure there are many people who would just love to have you for dinner.” She laughed at herself, a high-pitched piercing laugh. She slowly began to creep closer to Mr. Rupert, and began to sniff. Mr. Rupert moved back further in his chair, feeling slightly awkward. She continued to sniff, and her eyes were starting to glow with a slight hint of red. Mr. Rupert had no idea how to receive this; as some sort of gesture, or a threat. But, not intending to be rude, he just sat in his chair silently, taking steady breaths.
The lady stopped, and gave Mr. Rupert a spine tingling smile, showing off her set of sharp fangs.
“I would very much like to eat you now.” She said. Her face was now only a few inches away from Mr. Rupert’s, and he could smell her sour breath in his face. He panicked, and motioned toward the door.
“I appreciated your hospitality, but I think I must go now.” He began to stand up to leave, when she quickly shoved him back down, and menacingly replied, “I think not.” She yelled at her other friends, motioning them forward.
One of the men could be heard over the sound of shuffling feet. “About time, I was starting to get stomach pains!”
They approached quick, and yanked the chair out from the shaking bottom of Mr. Rupert, sending him sprawling against the wall. His head hit smashed hard against the brick, and a trickle of blood rained down his face. In an instant, they were upon him. Screaming insane bloodthirsty vampires pinned him down to the floor, and pounded his head hard into the stone ground, pleading for blood. The world started to fade away from his eyes, yet somehow he held on. He kicked the nearest one who was about to pounce, and sent him soaring through the air, landing head first into a crate of beer bottles. His head was throbbing, but still he fought them.
Enraged, one of the men snatched up the fallen chair, and was just about to plant it on Mr. Rupert’s face, when the man suddenly received a mighty blow just below the mid-section from the firm heels of Mr. Rupert’s boot, and fainted right there on the spot. Other men leapt at him, but Mr. Rupert rolled in circles on the ground, dodging every one of them. The lady, however was the most difficult one to dissuade. Her piercing fangs jabbing into his arms, and her scrawny nails piercing into his skin made it almost impossible to fight. She could not, however jab her nails into his strong will to live, and that was Mr. Rupert’s ultimate advantage. He pulled together all his confidence, and lifted the woman off, sending her through the air like a pillow, landing hard on the stone floor with a soft crunch. She screamed in hysterical fits, and demanded that somebody come to her aid. The attackers hurried over to her, soothing her with quiet words.
While the rest of the attackers were attending to their queen, it provided just the opportunity Mr. Rupert had been waiting for to sneak out. With aching knees, he quickly pulled himself on two feet, and jolted toward the door.
When the queen and her minions saw him, she immediately demanded that they get their foolish persons off her, and take out the prisoner. They obeyed, and rushed over to the door, attempting to blockade it from Mr. Rupert. They were too late. Mr. Rupert had already reached the door, and was beginning to unlock it. He fidgeted with the lock, aware of the danger closing in.
“Come on, come on, you stupid piece of plywood!” He was screaming at the door. He was turning the handle, but the door just wouldn’t open. I’ve got to get out of here, I’ve got to get out of here! They were closing in, fast. Come on, come on! Really fast. Giving up the handle, he took a step back and heaved himself right upon the door. It broke off the hinges with a snap, sending pieces of splintered wood everywhere. He raced outside just as the group of bloodthirsty mongrels were hurtling themselves at the door. They flew out what was left of the framework where the door had been, and tumbled out into the light.
Of course, Mr. Rupert did not just shrug his shoulders at the sight of so much sun; it caught him very off guard. He screamed in terror, and quickly shielded his eyes from the violent morning sunset. The vampires, however were in much more pain. When Mr. Rupert looked back from his sprint, he saw that the small army of vampires, which had so fiercely tried to leap upon him at the door, was now sprawled in heaps on the cobblestone alleyway, burning in the sun.
The legend of the vampire is known to many, and if you are unfamiliar with it, you should know that vampires do not function well in light; they burn up, shrivel, and die. So, when Mr. Rupert glanced back, that is precisely what he observed. In heaps, their filthy bodies smoked and shriveled into ashes. It is said, that the echoes of their screams were so loud that they traveled clear across the globe, and were later heard by an old Japanese farmer tending his crops just a few hours later on the other side of the world. Their bodies crumpled into ashes that were picked up in the wind, and filled the air.
When Mr. Rupert saw this, he jumped up and down, and began to sing once more with happiness. They burn in the light, and I don’t! He looked down at his own flesh and saw that it was perfectly fine, and then looked at the ashes floating around in the air, and decided right then and there, that the light was not so bad after all. So, fearlessly he skipped and sang all the back to his castle on the hill and when he got there he took down all the curtains, and pulled back all the shades, letting the light pour over his face.
Mr. Rupert, the man who was fearful of light, was in the end… saved by his own fears.