Studio Scordatura • Reginald E. Bloom • Amongst Mannikens

Excerpt from Amongst Mannikens (2002)

It had been, what, almost four months since his first encounter with a vampire?

Okay, so maybe "encounter" was too strong a word. It was, though--to the best of his recollection--the first time he had ever laid eyes on one of the loathsome creatures. Categorizing them as vampires was also something of a misnomer, but he couldn't help but equate them with the ghoulish revenants that were a familiar staple of European folklore. If anything, the label was inadequate, having been tarnished by the stock representations that had graced low budget horror films and Halloween novelties for decades.

As Vic trudged up the stairs to his modest but far from squalid apartment, he recounted to himself the experience, or to the best of his recollection. He intended to put this and all subsequent experiences to paper, but insofar lacked the gumption to follow through with such an endeavor. Coming home from work, he was too exhausted to catch up on his correspondence, let alone write his memoirs.

It was mid-summer. July 12th, to be exact. He remembered the day because he had just received his first raise. His wife Amy and he had been struggling, financially, for the better part of three years. Even though it was only an extra thousand dollars or so a year, the raise was the first sign of economic stability since relocating to Portland and securing his current position as a research assistant for a small law firm. Greatly welcome, it had raised his spirits and given him some sense of accomplishment, of hope.

Feeling more lucid than he had been for quite some time, he had stopped by a floral shop on the way home that day to buy his wife some roses. It wasn't much, just a little "thanks" for the support she had offered him, and for her consistent show of faith. While waiting in line at the counter, he caught sight of something on his periphery. Startled, Vic quickly turned, and saw nothing more than an old woman--a smile carved deep across her already creviced face--admiring a bouquet of chrysanthemums. As the lady directly in front of him scooped up her purchases and left, he stepped up to take her place, and again saw the inexplicable apparition out of the corner of his eye.

Holding onto her back, its arms and legs wrapped about the woman's mid-riff, was what appeared to be a corpse, its face tucked into the crook of her neck. Although he was unable to examine it in detail, Vic couldn't help but notice its ghastly pallor, and the bony limbs almost devoid of flesh.

Stuttering, he requested a dozen roses, white ones, keeping his eyes trained on the employee so he could--to the best of his ability--scrutinize the monstrosity that disappeared from sight whenever he looked directly at the venerable customer. While the cashier trimmed the stems of the flowers for him, the old woman hobbled off, out the door and down the street. It was the last he'd see of the old woman, but not the creature. Or, to be more specific, its kith and kin.

Unable to shake off what he assumed to be his first supernatural experience (he wasn't about to write it off as an hallucination), he found himself plagued by a particularly stubborn bout of insomnia that selfsame night.

The following day, dazed by the lack of sleep, he couldn't repeat the phenomenon no matter how hard he tried. The third day, though, having finally gotten a good night's rest, he approached the subject once again with a clear mind. Disturbing as it was, the apparition returned. As did like others. In droves.

As the days progressed, he found himself seeing more of the dreadful beasts, clutching onto their apparently ignorant hosts. Furthermore, Vic was able to bring the creatures out of his periphery and into his direct line of sight. It was slow going at first, and garnered him a fair share of migraines, but soon he could see the monsters with great ease, catching all the details he was previously denied by a sideways glance. Not the least of which were the whites of their nearly bleached eyes peeking out from behind their half-open lids, the colors of their irises lost behind a cloudy film.

continued...