Believe It Or Not

This week, we have, on Chuck Wendig's Friday Flash Fiction Challenge, a great challenge.  It's a song title challenge... we pick a song title randomly and use it as the title of our flash fiction! I've had 'Believe It Or Not' from 'The Greatest American Hero' tv show jumping around in my head for the day... catchy tune, funny show, should be interesting.  So, here goes:

My best friend is a vampire.

Knew you wouldn’t believe me… nobody does.

But then, your friends take you out for a feed while my best friend goes out for a feed before taking me out somewhere to watch me eat on him.  He’s saved me more times than I care to remember when it comes to dangerous situations.

And yeah, I’ve seen him feed before – not that he’s all that happy I did – and I reckon he looks sexy as hell as a vampire; but please don’t tell him that!  He’s told me not to get too close to him about it.  However, let me tell you about how we met… you won’t believe it.

I was on my way to pick up my sister at Mt Gravatt College of TAFE.  This place is on a busy road, but has a huge amount of trees so you can’t see the buildings and it’s nice and quiet from the buildings themselves.  It’s also the perfect place to get mugged!

And while I was leaning against my car having a smoke, I heard a noise nearby.  I had just lit up and didn’t expect anyone to approach, but I looked around to my left, then to my right, pressed the central locking on my key tab and took a few steps away from the car and looked around the area completely… yeah, I was okay.

Um,… no I wasn’t!

Out of nowhere, somebody jumped me from behind and I had the wind knocked out of me.  I dropped my smoke and my hand landed on the brightly burning part; but this isn’t the main thing that hurt me.

“Gimmie your money, bitch!” a voice growled in my ear as a handful of my hair was yanked back and my forehead smacked the ground, “Where is your money!”

“Shit!  I don’t have any on me!” I sobbed.

As quickly as the arsehole had landed on me, he was pulled off.  I looked over my shoulder to see him being physically thrown against a tree across the carpark.  I heard, in the near silence, a loud snap and he landed in a limp heap on the ground.

Nearby was a man who rushed over to me and helped me to sit up, “Are you okay?”

My eyes kept on wandering to the dead – or dying – guy at the base of the tree, “Um… yeah… he’s dead isn’t he?”

He glanced over at him, “I wouldn’t worry about him.” He didn’t take his eyes off me, “I’m Rick.”

“Sharna.” My head began to throb as my sister approached and she rushed over and asked question after question about what happened.  I was so thankful Rick answered all the questions for me because I didn’t know what the hell to say.

“Just make sure to take her straight home.” He said handing her the keys to my car, “I don’t want her driving.”

“Yes… definitely.”

Since then, we’ve been the best of friends.  I’m not sure how old he is, but he’s shown me a world that I never knew existed.  I have been let into some great Goth clubs – which have turned out to be vampire clubs (and they’re just Goth clubs in disguise).  And on my 21^st Birthday, Rick took me out to his house for a night – just the two of us – to watch vampire films that Hollywood did… which he calls comedies. 

However, the one time I’ve been grateful that he’s been my friend is now.  Rick took me out on the town one night to show me something he knew I’d hate about my friends.

“I thought you’d want to know.” He had said as we walked along the boardwalk, “You’d tell me if you thought it was in my best interest.”

“Well, yeah, we’re friends.” I said to him, “You saved my life.”

Taking my hands he turned me to face him, “Now, what you’re going to witness isn’t going to be something your friends want you to know about them.” He hesitated, “They are out to kill me and my kind… they are direct descendants to Van Helsing; and it’s in their blood to kill vampires.”

“Oh god…” tears threatened to make me look and sound like a sissy, “This is why they’ve been hanging out with us?”

He nodded, “To get close.” We turned and he slipped his arm around my waist as he showed me the beach from the railing, whispering in my ear, “Do you see the second bon fire along?”

“Yes.”

“Watch carefully.”

In silence, we watched as there was a struggle and a blade was quickly raised in the firelight and then it fell.  A person picked up something that looked like a ball and dumped it on the fire, “Oh shit.”

“Your best friend, Bethany, just killed a vampire.” He said.

“Are you going to run?”

“No.” he held me close from behind, “I’d like to become closer to you.”

I turned my head to look at Rick, “How do you know I’m not related to Van Helsing?”

“I knew the night I met you that you and I were matched through your blood… I marked you through tasting your wound.”

I sighed, “Oh… I see.”

“I’ve been wanting to taste your blood again for a long time, Sharna…” he pushed his nose against my neck and took in my scent, “Would you let me turn you?”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

I watched my friends at the bonfire kill another vampire with disgust, “I hate to see your friends die, because I’ve seen your world.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he bit into my neck.

Drinking.

Draining.

Killing me.

Turning me.

Making us one.