Night Time

“I want to be with you in the night time” - “Night Time," Bauhaus1

It was a stifling 90 degrees and the cars were inching along the highway. It was 5 o’clock on a Friday and there was a five-car pileup a few miles ahead of where Phil sat in his stationery sports car. 2

The incessant honking of car horns made his head ache. Sweat glued his work shirt to his chest. The merciless sun baked the paint of the surrounding cars and made their colors blend and shimmer before Phil’s eyes. He was starting to feel nauseous. 3

He almost didn’t hear his cell phone ring. Its generic ring-tone was obscured by the useless blaring of car horns and the faint buzzing in his head. He grabbed it and responded with a wilted “Hello?”4

“Hey Phil, how’re you?” asked the small, unsure feminine voice.5

“Hey Becky,” he responded, his mood picking up upon hearing the girl’s voice.6

“Where are you?”7

“Stuck in traffic. There’s an accident on 25 and they’re still trying to clean up the road.”8

“That sucks,” she returned, sympathetically. He had to chuckle at that; the way Becky, who was 24 years old, and younger people would casually use words that even he’d consider too vulgar when he was a teenager. Dating a girl who was almost twelve years his junior had certainly exposed him to the differences between what’d been acceptable when he was growing up and what was acceptable now. “When do you think you’ll get home?”9

“Who knows.”10

“Oh,” her disappointment was clear. “Well, I was thinking maybe we could get together tonight since it’s a Friday and all. That new Toby McGuire movie’s showing at the Cineplex at 9:30 and I get off at 7, so I was thinking maybe we could catch that and then see where we wind up or something.”11

Becky spoke in vague terms like “get together” and “see where we wind up” because she wanted to appear aloof and detached, but Phil knew that she was always precisely sure of what she wanted and would be crushed when things didn’t go according to plan, especially when they were plans the two of them had. 12

“Well, I should be home by then,” he countered, his voice hopeful. “Yeah, I’m sure we could do that. You want me to pick you up?”13

“Sure!” Becky chirped, happily. “Thanks a lot, Phil.”14

“No problem.”15

“See you around eight. Love you.” That last part was more like a question, as the usual uncertainty crept back into her voice.16

“Sure, see you.” he responded curtly before quickly shutting off his phone. 17

He didn’t like the turn things had taken when she’d started saying “I love you.” He’d been in love before, and found that he could only come out on the bad end. 18

After his divorce, he’d re-evaluated what he valued and found it was easy for him to separate love and sex, and that sex without commitment was the most dependable thing in his life. This was a sentiment he knew most middle aged men were supposed to be growing out of as they started raising families, but, after the divorce from Linda, all he could see was how much he’d been missing out on while being married. 19

Becky was the exact opposite. After meeting her in a singles bar, Phil had expected her to be as single-minded in the pursuit of sexual gratification as any of the other girls of her age that he’d encountered. She’d slept with him on the night they met, and the sex was good, so Phil gave her his number and they’d been meeting a few times a week ever since. 20

She wasn’t the first girl he’d had casual sex with, and she wasn’t the only girl he was sleeping with during that time, but she was the first one who’d made it clear she was being faithful to him. While not stating it overtly, she made it clear to Phil that she wanted to be in a relationship with him. She’d hold his hand when they were out in public, kiss him goodbye, and drop an “I love you” into conversation. At first, it caught Phil off-guard and started to worry him. He knew he couldn’t be with a girl who “loved” him; he’d given up on the idea of such a person long ago, anyway. He knew he couldn’t stay with one person for too long, either. The last thing he wanted now was to replace an exciting sex life with a committed relationship. 21

They'd only seen each other a few times, but he knew she developed feelings that were too strong too quickly and took let-downs too hard. But she was young, he reasoned. After they stopped seeing each other, sure she’d claim to be crushed, but, with her unnaturally amazing body and a personality that dazzled anyone she felt comfortable showing it to, she’d find someone else in no time and treat their fling like an unpleasant memory. So he kept in contact with her, even if he didn’t really get the point of the calls she’d make every day just to say hi instead of just on the times they’d get together for sex. 22

His headache started to diminish when he looked ahead and saw that the traffic was finally moving.23

The night moved over the city like a cool, dark hand. Becky was sitting in the passenger seat of Phil’s car as he navigated it down the congested main street to the brightly lit Cineplex. The temperature had dropped significantly from what it was that afternoon and Phil didn’t know how Becky was comfortable in just the denim cut-off jeans and pink halter top she wore, but he was appreciative that she wore it all the same. She was gorgeous, and he relished the envious stares he got from younger guys whenever walking down the street with his arm around her waist. 24

Some loud, abrasive rock song was on the radio and Becky was chanting along with the lyrics. It all blended into the noise of the busy night - the laughter and shouting coming from the sidewalk, the music coming from opened windows, the muted roar of cars cruising by too fast. It made Phil feel young and energetic, revitalized. 25

“I’d kill for a burger right now,” he said, inhaling the scents of greasy fried and char-grilled food baking the air. 26

“But you’re on a diet, remember?” Becky reminded, not out of strictness; she’d just neglected to add “Not that I’d care if you gained weight or anything” like she did whenever Phil brought up the idea of going off of one of his self-imposed diets. 27

“Yeah, I know. And it’s working, too,” he mentioned, thinking of the recently separated twenty-something secretary at his office who’d been eying him lately. He wondered how she’d be in bed.28

“You definitely are looking even trimmer,” Becky commented, before being cut off by a message the announcer was delivering in a semi-panicked tone.29

“We interrupt this radio broadcast to bring you an urgent bulletin. The ‘Night Stalker’ has been spotted again, this time in the strip district of Woodlawn. He’s a dark-haired man in his mid-forties, last reported wearing a black trench coat and wide-brimmed hat. He’s thought to be responsible for a rash of murders in the area in which the victims have been found drained of their blood, as well as being charged with attacking several young women, following them on the street then entering their homes and assaulting them physically, earning his nickname because he only strikes at night. If you see this man, go to a phone or authority figure immediately.”30

“That sounds spooky,” Becky chirped. “I heard that he has a thing for attacking blonds. I guess I better watch out. Good thing I got you here to protect me,” she purred, snaking her hand up his arm.31

“Damn right, babe,” he returned, pulling into the parking lot of the movie theater and killing the engine. 32

The movie lasted for close to two hours and the street was considerably darker and quieter when they got out of the movie theater. 33

Phil thought of many other things he could’ve been doing with the past two hours and the $20-some he’d paid for the tickets ad refreshments. The sex scene between the pretty-boy leading man and his sugary empty-eyed leading lady piqued his interest, but was a tame and censor-appeasing letdown. Becky, on the other hand, couldn’t stop gushing about how beautiful the final kiss between the aforementioned pair, before the girl succumbed to some unspecified disease, had been. 34

Phil thought that her emotional mind-set would probably lead to more cuddling than sex when they got back to her apartment, but when she suddenly pressed herself against him, he thought maybe she had something wilder in mind.35

“What’s the matter, baby?” he growled winding his arm around her.36

“Did you hear that?” she asked, in a worried breath.37

“What, you think the Night Stalker’s gonna come get you? You’ve got me here to protect you, remember?” he said, nuzzling his nose into her hair.38

“No, I really did hear something … in the alley.”39

Humoring her, Phil swept his eyes over to the black slit between the dark facades of the movie theater and an electronics store next to it. The darkness stirred with something darker, like the coat and hat worn by a prowling maniac. Pieces of an exposed whiteness - a face - remained there, very deliberate-looking. Staring. 40

“I don’t see that,” he whispered to himself, despite quickening his pace. Suddenly, the yards that separated them from his car seemed like miles. And his car, looking like a landmark in the middle of a desert, was the only one left in this part of the lot. 41

The silence, which had been breathing rapidly in his ears, was smashed by the sound of a trash can being knocked to the ground and footfalls suddenly hammering in their direction. 42

“Shit!” Becky cried out. They broke out in a run to his car, frantically fumbling with the doors and jamming the key into the ignition in a blur before they were swerving down the street. 43

“Call the cops, Becky,” Phil commanded. 44

“I don’t have my phone on me,” she squeaked back. “Where’s yours?”45

“I forgot it,” he sighed. “Damnit!”46

“It’s okay, by the time we get to my place, he probably won’t be that far.” She took a deep breath. “I can’t believe that happened, Phil. God … We could’ve been … I don’t want to think about it…”47

“I know, sweetie,” he responded, reaching out and squeezing her shoulder. “I know.”48

They shakily made their way up to Becky’s apartment. Phil sank into the couch while Becky went into the bedroom to call the police. 49

Phil closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. He needed a drink really badly. 50

I could’ve died out there, he thought. That freak could’ve killed or seriously injured him and Becky. The idea of seeing her injured or killed … or dying because of her … it was too much. There wasn’t a person in his life worth a broken heart, much less a lost life. 51

He heard her bare feet padding across the carpet behind him, trailing her fingers along his broad shoulders, then appearing in front of him, sitting astride his lap in one fluid motion. She was now wearing a cream-colored satin negligee. As good as she looked, he couldn’t shake the terror of their encounter with the Night Stalker. 52

“Babe, after that I’m not feeling so hot.”53

“What do you mean? All that adrenaline is really getting to me. C’mon,” she goaded, her fingers playing on the buttons of his shirt. 54

“Becky, no,” he weakly disagreed.55

She stilled, pinning him.56

“Something really bad could’ve happened to us out there, Phil,” she intoned. “Thinking about it made me realize … how much I really love you. We’ve been together for a while, and I think … well, maybe we should move in together.”57

Any remaining ardor in him was killed by those words. 58

“No, Becky,” he said, gripping her shoulders and trying to ease her off of him. “Look, that could’ve happened to you with any guy and he would’ve done the same thing. I don’t think we should get this serious.59

“What?” she asked, her voice and expression pained. “After all this, how could you not--” 60

She was cut off by the sound of the window in front of them being shattered. Becky twisted her head around, and they both saw a dark figure worming his way through the gaping, jagged hole in the glass. Phil tried to throw Becky’s weight off of him, but it wasn’t yielding. He tried to figure out why, but the blow to the back of his head resulted in a blackness where he didn’t have to comprehend anything.61

When Phil opened his eyes, he didn’t see or hear anyone. He was slumped over on the couch and wondered what had just happened. 62

He climbed to his feet and called out weakly for Becky. He turned around to look into the kitchenette and stopped dead. 63

There was a swollen, pink lump of a thing sitting on the tiled section of the floor. It twitched with slight movements, and was attached to a crumpled black-clad body. The pink thing moved, rising. The other body rolled over, revealing the terror-frozen face that Phil had seem staring at them from the alley. 64

The pink thing was shaped like a grossly bloated human with yellow hair streaming from its head. Its glassy blue eyes stared at him from its doughy face, tears cutting shimmering trails downward. It looked like it should’ve been Becky. Then it spoke to him in her voice.65

“I never wanted you to see me like this,” it sighed. 66

“What … what…” was all he could stammer, horrified.67

“I guess you could call me a vampire, only I’m a very early form. Before we adapted human characteristics, our bodies were very sensitive, especially to our blood intake. More than one victim a night, especially if they were both adults, would be too much for our bodies to contain and we’d puff up like a regular person after Thanksgiving dinner, only … much worse,” she said, waving her hands downward to illustrate her point. 68

Phil was nauseous looking at her. Her thighs were the size of monstrously fatty hams. Her stomach and midsection were an immense lump of bread dough that her floppy breasts hung over lifelessly. These had once made up her perfect, fit, curvy body that he’d gone wild thinking about it and having his hands and mouth all over.69

“He,” she began to explain almost as an afterthought “was something like a vampire hunter, trying to find and kill me. He almost got me, too. I’d already fed tonight, but I had no choice. He was a good meal, despite what he did to my … figure.”70

“This isn’t real,” he whispered to himself.71

“You can help end this, Phil!” she spat out, hopefully. “Marry me. Make me your wife before God and this curse will end. There’s no stopping passing it on to our children, but--”72

“NO!” he cut her off, not sure which was angering him more: her vampirism or the mention of marriage and children.73

“Phil, please! You’re the only one I’ve ever loved. You can save me from this!”74

“No, no, no, this is sick!” he yelled, making a run for the door. 75

Becky’s body was a cream-colored blur as it cut him off, then collided with him and brought about slight pain and more darkness.76

When Phil came to, he was lying on his side. Several horizontal bars were cutting through his vision. He sat up and realized that he was in a jail cell. 77

He stood and walked to the bars, looking out at bland walls holding several people milling about, regarding him with cold, angry glances. He looked down to see that he was wearing the same black clothes that the dead man mad been wearing. It made his skin crawl.78

“That’s right, Night Stalker apprehended!” he heard a man bellow. He looked over to see that the man was speaking into a phone. “I want to see those words in huge print right on the front page of tomorrow’s paper.”79

Had the police come into the apartment and seen Becky? Was he talking about the man in black?80

“Why the hell am I am here?” he demanded, shaking the bars of the cell.81

“Shut up, you sick freak!” barked a black man who zoomed past. “We’ll get you locked up in the state pen in no time.”82

Stunned, he watched the man approach a blonde women who was standing with her back to him. When she turned around, Phil almost screamed. It was Becky as a normal, beautiful, and slightly upset human woman. He could hear the man speaking to her softly.83

“Could you tell me again what happened, ma’am?”84

She sniffed. “Well, I was … y’know, just sitting in my apartment. I’d gone to see a movie after I got off work and … well, now that I think of it, I’d heard … or felt something weird when I was walking home. Now I guess that it was … it was him following me,” her voice cracked, and the man put his arm around her shoulder before she started speaking again. “When I got back to my place, I went to the phone in my room to make a call and … God, it was a good thing I was in there, because I heard my window break open and was able to see something tall and black slip into the living room. I called the police immediately the grabbed this small sculpture on my nightstand and was able to whack him with it before he even knew I was there,” she laughed a nervous laugh.85

“You killed all those people!” Phil screamed, drawing a shocked silence followed by a barrage of curses from the police officers all around him. “You’re a monster! You’re supposed to be in here - not me!”86

“That’s it,” the man talking to Becky fumed. Turning back to her, he mentioned that she was no longer needed there and that he’d be glad to have someone take her home if she needed it. She politely declined and turned to leave. Before she got to the exit, she was intercepted by a young man in a police uniform. Phil heard him ask her if she’d want a cup of coffee to settle her nerves, and repeating the sergeant’s question about someone taking her home, adding something about staying the night to make her feel safer.87

This time, she accepted. 88

He heard someone say that they were ready to take “the detained” to the state pen.89

Becky turned her head and her eyes met Phil’s , narrowing; the corners of her mouth curling up in a wry, smug grin. 90

He knew that the night was far from over for either of them.