Hunter's Moon

Chapter 3

            After what felt like minutes but actually was only seconds, there were sounds of movement from within the bushes. It was quiet at first, then building, until a humanoid figure came bursting out. Matthew wasn't sure of what to make of it at first. It looked like a mix between a homeless bum and a feral animal. The creature's wild red eyes scanned about until they rested on Matthew and the girl. The girl, who had settled down into whispered mumblings found a new reserve of air in her lungs and forced it out, at the highest decibel she could.

            “'s okay, it's okay,” Matthew said, trying to sound calming. He wasn't sure if it was working, but he also wasn't sure if he was trying to comfort the girl or himself. The girl pointed at the creature with her left arm, fully outstretched, her right hand and arm wrapped around Matthew's leg, clinging to him like a vise grip.

            The creature hissed, opening its mouth to reveal three separate rows of jagged teeth, gleaming white in the gibbous moonlight. Matthew thought they looked like shark teeth at first, then his mind stopped thinking about what the teeth looked like and started wondering how it could open its jaw so wide. Matthew wanted to look around for something to use as a weapon, but couldn't risk taking his eyes off that . . . that thing. He started to step back, trying to give himself a little more distance, a little more room, but realized that the whimpering girl blocked the path directly behind him.

            He reached down and gently touched the girl on the shoulder. “I need your help. We need to move,” he said to the girl while still watching the creature. “Can you stand? Can you walk?”

            The creature stood there, as if taking in Matthew, trying to decide if the man was a threat or prey. Matthew got the feeling that it wouldn't take the creature very long. “I'm Matthew,” he told the girl. “I'll help you get away from this thing, but I need the use of my leg. Can you help me with that?”

            Through his hand on her shoulder, he felt her nod. He chanced a look down at her. Eyes bloodshot, makeup smeared all over her face. Her breath ragged and raw from too much screaming. It was when her eyes got even bigger he'd realized that he'd made a mistake.

            Several things happened at once. First, the girl let go of his leg and sprinted away from him, adrenaline apparently pumping so hard through her that she ignored whatever injuries had made her so bloody. Secondly, Matthew felt the impact of the creature slamming into him with such force he was knocked down to the ground. Its clawed hands ripped his jacket to shreds and reached for his neck. Third, Matthew was surprised at how soft and comfortable the grass was. Fourth, was that a motorcycle that he heard?

            Turning his head back to look at the thing on top of him, Matthew nearly gagged from the smell of the foul breath of this monster. Trying to push the monster off was proving ineffective, so Matthew attempted to knee the thing in the groin. The creature registered the pain, but only minimally, only making it more mad rather than slowing it down.

            Well, at least the girl got away, whoever she is, he thought to himself as he struggled to stop the creature from making a meal of his neck. The sound of a motorcycle suddenly stopped and then Matthew went deaf. The struggle from the creature was over and Matthew pushed the limp body away.

            Trying to stand, Matthew looked at the creature again. It was missing a head. He turned around and saw someone sitting on a red and black Harley Davidson with a sawed-off shotgun in his hand. It was hanging loose, smoke slowly rising from its barrel.

            “Who are- whoa- wait, can you hear me? I can't hear me.” Matthew said, at least he hoped he said it.

            The rider returned the shotgun to a shoulder holster and pulled off his motorcycle helmet. He looked to be in his early fifties, dark brown hair more a salt and pepper look from going grey, both the hair on his head and the goatee style facial hair. From his face it looked like he was yelling, but Matthew could barely make it out as a whisper, “Sorry about the noise, figured you'd want him off of ya.” Why wouldn't that ringing go away? The man leaned over and handed him a flask. “Here, ya go blondie, drink this.”

            Matthew took the flask and sniffed the contents, no smell at all. He took a small sip and discovered water. He took a larger drink and realized he'd emptied it. “I . . . uhm, yeah . . . what is that thing? It just came out of the bushes, chasing that girl.” Matthew tried to hear himself talk, but not yell at the same time. It was unusual, but the ringing was going away slowly.

            “Girl? What girl? All I saw was you and the vampire.” the man said. “Dang it, was she hurt? Was she bleeding? Which way did she go?”

            “Yeah, she was hurt, she was scared out of her min- wait, did you just say vampire?” Matthew paused, glad his hearing was finally getting back to normal, but he couldn't have heard that right, “That's a vampire?” Matthew said pointing at the headless corpse.

            “Well, what did ya think it was? The sodding tooth fairy?” the man got annoyed when he had to repeat himself, “The girl . . . which way?”

            Matthew pointed in the direction she'd sprinted off. “Hope she made it someplace safe.”

            “I don't” the man said as he walked back to his bike, “It'll just make it harder for her.”

            The man pulled a bottle of lighter fluid out of some saddlebags and walked over to the vampire corpse. He started pouring it over the body.

            “What are you doing?” Matthew stammered.

            “Taking care of the corpse. They're very flammable. Police'll eventually be here, and it's just more work for them if they find it, even more work once it disappears on them. Just trying to speed their day along.” He lit a match, dropped it on body, and it was engulfed in seconds, “Take my advice, kid. Just go home and forget this ever happened. You'll probably forget about it by sunup anyway.”

            The man walked back to his bike, loaded the bottle back into the saddlebag, and got on.

            “Why's that? This mystical vampire have some way of clouding my mind so I forget he was ever there?” Matthew remarked snidely.

            The man chortled, “Nah, ya idjit. You just went through a really traumatic experience. Psychologically speaking your brain might not know how to deal with what you went through and therefore black out the entire episode.” He smiled as he gunned the motor and drove off on the grass.

            Matthew stood there speechless for a few second, watching the unnamed man ride off. He glanced back at the corpse, expecting to see the fire still going, but only saw blackened piles of ash in the area he'd tossed the body. It was as if whatever fuel the body supplied had been used up quickly, like a magnesium flare.

            He started walking slowly toward the edge of the park, wanting nothing more than to drop into his bed and sleep for a week. As he got to the road, there was a car pulling up. He looked to see Taylor's VW Bug. It was one of the original models of Bug, not the newer style. It was a very distinct powder blue color and was remarkably well maintained considering it was close to forty years old. The car stopped and Taylor got out. “Matthew, you okay? What happened? What was the scream . . . eww, uh, what is that on your face?”

            Matthew reached up to touch his face to find it covered in slimy, red, vampire gore. “Uh, you really don't want the answer to that question.” He felt so tired, he open the passenger door and poured himself in the seat, exhausted.