~ The Mind of a Vampire ~

These fictitious stories and all work on this website are Copyright to Dr. John Necessitor. Do not copy and paste, print, or otherwise take the content of this page from this website. Any theft of any part of this site's written or artistic content will result in your immediate and painful death, and after that you will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

Despair
Written March 10, 2006


Screen capture copyright Black Mirror - no copyright infringement intended.

He sat at the desk in His Lab, his elbows resting on the desktop, his head held in his hands. Lifting his head he stared straight ahead...his head jerked twice, and a growl ripped up from his diaphragm. "It's not fair!" he yelled out, "It's not FUCKING FAIR!" he roared. He slammed his fists down on the desk as he stood quickly, the chair he was sitting in rolled back several yards. "Not FAIR!!" he yelled out, swinging his left arm, purposefully knocking the lamp over. The bulb burst with a soft, "pop." Glancing around he snatched up the carafe of bloodwyne on the small table next to the desk and hurled it against the wall over his desk. The glass exploded, projecting small crystal shards outward, bloodwyne sprayed all over. The Vampire was standing back, but not far enough back, and got hit with a spray of both. "Son of a bitch!" he growled, lightly brushing tiny jagged pieces from his face. His saw blood on his fingertips, and realized he must of dozens of tiny cuts on his face. He glanced down at his lab coat, now stained with bloodwyne. "Stupid......," he grumbled under his breath, berating himself for not thinking ahead enough to move back farther, the focus of his rage forgotten for the moment. His eyes traveled to his desk, and his notes, which now lay soggy on the desktop. "Noooo!" he yelled. Suddenly his original anguish swung back into his mind again, having nothing to do with paperwork or lab notes. "ARRGH!" he roared and moved closer to the desk, put his arms down and shoved everything off of the edge. The brain he was dissecting splatted on the floor with a moist sound, the various bottles and test tubes shattered and burst, spilling various liquids. His hatchet clanked heavily on the floor, and came to rest against the leg of an operating table a few feet away. His microscope hit the ground and broke into pieces. He slapped his hands to the sides of his head, almost as if to crush his own skull. If he could have, he would have killed everyone in the town below with just a thought. "It's not fair," he whispered to himself as he walked across the room. He sat down in the chair, and placed his elbows on his knees, still holding his head. "It's not fair," he sighed dishearteningly, "It's not fair," he choked out. "Not fucking fair!" he growled, gritting his teeth.

Visit to the Sanatorium
Written September 30 and October 1, 2010

It had been several months since Dr. Necessitor had visited Max in the sanatorium. He chased the troubling thoughts on his mind away and decided he would take a walk to that very place. It wasn't long before he was entering the doors of the hospital. He walked quickly past the receptionist's desk, not even bothering to give Jennifer a nod of greeting.

He had a copy of the key to Max's room. He would have stopped into Warden Dower's office for a brief, but friendly conversation, but felt a certain urgency to get to Max's room.

The Vampire listened to the deadbolt slid back and opened the door. Max was not in the room, and the bed was neatly made. He spun around to find out where Max was, and was face to face with the warden.

"Where is he?" Dr. Necessitor said, trying not to growl.

"I tried to intercept you. Jennifer buzzed my office," said Dower.

"Where is he?" the Vampire repeated, this time not trying to subdue the anger in his voice.

"He's......gone," the warden said with a slight catch in his voice. "He committed suicide."

Dr. Necessitor's eyes widened, "He WHAT?" he questioned, not wanting to comprehend what was just said to him.

His arms made a jerking motion, as though he was trying to grasp the space between consciousness and unconsciousness. He went to sit up quickly and cracked his head on the lid of the coffin. Groaning, Dr. Necessitor placed his hand over the rising lump and lay there staring up into the small space of pitch black. "I need to visit the sanatorium more often," he grumbled to himself.

A few moments later he opened the coffin lid and got out. He wouldn't be able to go back to sleep for now. He didn't feel like walking all the way up to the attic either. Instead he simply sat down on the floor and leaned back against the cool stone wall. He closed his eyes and sighed. 

~~~~~

The nightmare shook him and Dr. Necessitor made it a point to visit Max. After showering, brushing his fangs and getting dressed he found his way on the road leading to the sanatorium. It didn't take him too long and he usually enjoyed the walk.

After being buzzed through the main gate and stopping into the Warden's office, the Doctor was on his way down the hall to see Max.

The man seemed glad to see him, as was always the case. He turned from some papers he was writing on and greeted the Vampire. "Long time, no see," he quipped. He turned back to the dresser he was standing by and opened the top drawer to deposit the papers and pen. After closing the drawer he turned back around and said, "But I'm sure glad to see you now."

Dr. Necessitor grinned and said, "Glad to be here." A more solemn look shaped his face and he said, "I've looked into that matter you were concerned about. I should be able to rectify the situation," he said with an evil grin.

"Wonderful!" the patient said.

Dr. Necessitor nodded slightly, then asked, "So, how have you been doing Max?"

"Clara's been talking to me," he replied as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Dr. Necessitor took a seat on a chair and said in a questioning voice, "Clara?"

Max leaned over and gave Dr. Necessitor a mock punch in the arm. "Clara my sister, silly," he said with a grin. Dr. Necessitor raised an eyebrow and replied, "Well, you never did tell me her name, ya know."

"Oh well," Max continued, "She's been talking to me a lot lately," he said as he raised his index finger and pointed to the side of his head.

Dr. Necessitor sighed. "Have you told anyone else Clara's been talking to you?"

"No," said Max. She only said it was okay to tell you. Max glanced down at the floor with a melancholy look. Dr. Necessitor cleared his throat and Max raised his head up.

"What has she been saying to you?" the Vampire asked.

Max grinned now. "Well, she was talking about a carnival, a wonderful place. She said the one clown sounded very creepy when he laughed though." Max stood up now and walked back and forth across the room as he elaborated.

"She walked all around. She played some games and even won a doll." He stopped talking and glared at Dr. Necessitor. "She also told me about the black oily pond behind the gypsy's trailer. She said it reminded her of....you."

Dr. Necessitor's eyes widened, then his brows furrowed. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he said with a touch of anger.

"Now, now Dr. Necessitor, I've told Clara about you. She knows you're my friend. She said you have too much on your mind. She said you have to do something. That thing."

The Vampire leaned back in the chair, somehow the conversation didn't seem so bizarre at the moment and a slow evil grin crept up on his lips.

"No!" Max exclaimed. "She said, not that thing. The other thing." The man darted a glance at his dresser, then back at Dr. Necessitor.

"I wish she hadn't drown when we were kids," Max said suddenly, and sighed.

The Doctor said solemnly, "I know Max."

Suddenly Max brightened up and started talking about the carnival again. "Have you ever been to a carnival or circus?" he asked.

A slight grin curled the Vampire's lips. "Oh yeah," he said softly.

They continued to talk for several hours before Dr. Necessitor decided it was time to leave. "I enjoyed our time talking," he said to Max.

"So did I," Max said with enthusiasm. As the Vampire headed out the door, Max called out, "Don't be a stranger."

This and all work on this website are Copyright 2005 and beyond to Dr. John Necessitor. Do not copy and paste, print, or otherwise take the content of this page from this website. Any theft of any part of this site's written or artistic content will result in your immediate and painful death, and after that you will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

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