Death Without Parole #1
Chapter 4
NOW
Patrick stared into the darkness, wishing the memories of that terrible day weren't in his head. Wishing that Mandy and Mikey were alive and well, that his life was still his own. Heck, at this point, he would settle for being dead?the real kind. Patrick had tried, the failed attempt to destroy himself when he got arrested being the first of many attempts to kill himself. But he'd had no success despite his tireless efforts. Problem being there was only one way to get the job done. A wooden stake through the heart. Patrick had been surprised to find out how rare wooden objects of any kind were in prison. He'd stabbed himself through the heart with everything he could find?but it never worked. His wounds would heal and he would still be alive, if being a bloodsucking vampire could be considered alive.
Patrick had been arrested and put on trial for the murder of Mandy and Mikey. The trial was big news, the media went into a frenzy over it. Patrick became the most vile and despised man in the world. He was found guilty and, due to the fact that Michigan is one of only a dozen states that doesn't have the death penalty, was sentenced to life without the possibility of parole. Patrick still wondered what would have happened if he had been put to death. What would they have done when he continued to survive attempt after attempt? Guess he'd never know.
Isabella was taken in by Mandy's parents, the courts not feeling it would be appropriate to put her with Patrick's mom and dad since there was a choice between the victim's parents and the murderer's. Patrick was glad, he wouldn't want his parents to deal with the media vultures that would be sure to descend on them. They already had to deal with their fair share as it was, just for being the parents of a monster. The media didn't even know how right they were on that one.
Patrick hadn't wanted to lie to his parents when they visited him. He also couldn't tell the whole truth. So, when they'd asked him if he'd killed Mandy and Mikey he'd told them no. Which was true, since he'd killed the vampires they'd become. When they asked him who did, he'd said he didn't know, but they were still out there. Which was true. Anything more than that he wouldn't say. He didn't go into more detail when they pressed him, because then he would have to lie or tell the unbelievable truth. The little he said had been enough for them. His parents stood by his side, sat in court every day, and visited him weekly in prison. Patrick knew how lucky he was to have them. Unfortunately, Mandy's parents didn't feel the same way.
They'd never really liked Patrick, seemingly tolerating him through the years out of respect to their daughter. Neither of them were ever really mean to Patrick, they just weren't nice. Nathaniel and Victoria weren't bad people, they were just different than Patrick. They were rich, born rich to parents who were born rich. Patrick was born to a factory worker and a homemaker. To say Mandy's parents were disappointed their darling girl chose such a "peasant" was an understatement. They were more than ready to believe Patrick had killed their daughter and grandson.
Nathaniel and Victoria came to see Patrick once, while he was being held in jail during the trial. They'd told him he was a monster, that they'd known Mandy had made a mistake marrying him. Nathaniel had backhanded Patrick while he was chained to his seat, and the guard had let it go. Then Nathaniel had beat the crap out of him, which the guard also ignored. Patrick couldn't blame the guard, if he was him he'd probably had done the same. To the guard, and to the world, Patrick Noel was a murdering scumbag who'd killed his wife and son by stabbing them in the chest with a long shard of wood. The only person who could look at the evidence and not believe he was guilty was Patrick himself. And Isabella.
The poor little thing had seen the monster her mother had become, seen what had happened to her brother. She'd told the Jacksons, the police, and Mandy's parents what she'd seen. Now she was in therapy. After beating him to a bloody pulp, Nathaniel had told Patrick that he would ensure the murdering bastard never laid eyes on Isabella ever again. So far, the old man had kept his promise.
Patrick hadn't seen his little girl since the day his life literally ended. His parents were working on getting the courts to allow them to bring her to see Patrick, but he wasn't holding his breath. In the meantime, he wrote her letters, never talking about what happened to Mandy and Mikey. If he did, Patrick knew Isabella would never be allowed to read those letters since everything that went to her was read by the prison first. The prison psychiatrist would never let a letter about vampires be sent to a fragile little girl already in therapy. So, Patrick kept it simple, telling her he loved her and missed her?talking about happier times and memories. He hoped to see his Isabella someday, but at the same time he knew she was better off if he never did.
Patrick was a vampire now, a monster in every sense of the word. No matter how well he thought he could control the beast inside of him, Patrick had no interest in putting Isabella at risk. If he could keep his parents away, he would. He only agreed to see them with guards around and a strong pane of bullet proof glass between them. That was the only way he was permitted to see them anyways, so it worked out. Patrick wished he could do everyone a favor and kill himself, but obviously that wasn't happening anytime soon. What would the prison do if he lived for another 50 years, or 100? Would he age physically at all? He had so many questions about being a vampire, but two questions burned in his mind above the rest.
One, why? Why his family, why his wife? Was it some junkie vampire who was strung out and needed a fix of blood? Was the evil son of a bitch just walking by Patrick's house and decided it was as good a place as any to drink some blood? Did they prefer women so they killed and turned Mandy first? Why hadn't they chose Patrick? Was it random?or was there something more going on? Patrick wished he could tear the world apart and find the bastard responsible and give his wife and son justice?but it wouldn't bring them back. And he would still be a vampire. Nothing would change. Plus he'd made a promise to Mandy and Mikey never to give into the monster. That brought him to his second question, the hardest thing out of all this to try and accept.
When the police stormed into his bedroom and thwarted his suicide attempt, he had fought off the vampire inside him. Patrick had beat it down into submission, and had continued to ever since. Sure, it was tough. And he was growing weaker, he could feel it. Most likely due to not consuming blood, if he had to guess. He could still eat regular food, and it tasted fine?but it never satisfied him. Patrick was always hungry?always starving. It wasn't easy to keep the beast inside him locked away, but he could do it. So his biggest question of all was?why hadn't Mandy been able to do the same?
His wife was a tough cookie, strong and loyal. Why had she not fought off the vampire urges?why had she given in and killed Mikey, then tried to kill Patrick? It ate away at Patrick, tore him up inside. Part of him was angry with her?which was ridiculous, he knew. But it didn't make the feeling go away. He wished he could talk to her for just a few minutes, get some answers. But he feared those answers would never come?ever. Patrick most likely had an eternity to wait behind bars, and he doubted he'd ever know what really happened while he had slept that night?or why. Approaching footsteps caught Patrick's ear.
Closing his eyes, he pretended to be asleep, hoping the footsteps would continue walking past his cell. He gritted his teeth when the footsteps stopped directly in front of his cell's door. As he heard a key jangle and be shoved into the lock, he knew who it was before they spoke. Patrick could smell them. Ralph, the prison guard with the fetish for savagely beating the inmates he saw as weak or small. Patrick fought down the urges inside him, feeling his fingernails growing a few centimeters and his teeth begin to jut and tear from his gums. No, he thought, he had to fight it. Hugging himself, he curled up into the fetal position fighting an internal battle for control of his body and mind. Ralph's laugh was like nails on a chalkboard?long, sharp vampire nails on a chalkboard.
"Evening, Noel. I didn't wake you, did I?" Patrick could hear the nightstick cut
ting through the air before it smashed into his side, cracking a rib. He let out a little yelp, but not because of pain. His rib was already healing itself, it would be fine. Patrick let out a yelp because his anger was boiling over?and the monster inside him was breaking free. Ralph lifted his steel toe boot, and drove it down into Patrick's face. The vampire inside Patrick Noel was hungry, and it wanted out, wanted to eat. Why not let it have some fun, Patrick thought.
This guard was not a good man. He didn't deserve to be living, not when Mandy and Mikey were in the ground. No one would miss him, no one would care if Patrick tore Ralph to pieces and guzzled, licked, and slurped every drop of blood the pathetic, lowly human had flowing through his veins. The thought of it energized Patrick, made him feel alive for the first time in months. This was going to be wonderful, he thought. The room turned a shade darker, his fingernails grew longer, and his teeth sharpened and tore free of his mouth. As Ralph swung his fist towards Patrick's face, the vampire inside him grabbed hold of the man's wrist, and snapped the puny bone in half.
The big, bad prison guard screamed, clutching his mangled wrist to his chest and backing quickly away. The vampire got to his feet, smiling ear to ear at the thought of the long overdue meal that was about to come. He was finally free of the human shell that had imprisoned him for so long. How a mere mortal could have held up for so long surprised the vampire, this Patrick Noel was a rare creature. But now he was even more rare, he was finally what he was meant to be. Superior. The vampire watched as Ralph reached for his gun, the fool. He began to laugh as the terrified security guard emptied his handgun into Patrick's chest.
The vampire let out a shriek of delight and excitement, and then charged Ralph. First it would break its prey's back, paralyzing him. Then it would slowly drain its meal, starting with the guard's wrists and ankles, then work its way up, finishing with the peasant's heart. Just as the vampire's long fingernails wrapped around the shocked Ralph's throat, it felt itself being pulled back. No, it thought, this can't be happening. Tumbling backwards, it squealed and shrieked in pain and disappointment as it felt the human regaining control. How could this be!? This wasn't right, this couldn't happen?wait, it had to happen. Yes, this was right, it was not a vampire, it was not an it, it was a he, and he was a man. A man named Patrick Noel.
Patrick shook with strain and screamed as the room got lighter, and his nails and teeth returned to normal. Lying on the floor, he shuddered and tried to calm himself and his breathing. He'd almost lost himself, almost given in completely. Patrick had been seconds from killing Ralph, from becoming the vampire inside him. He'd just barely been able to regain control in time. How had that happened? Patrick knew how, he'd let his anger get the best of him.
The vampire had taken over, Patrick a hostage in his own body. He had seen and felt everything, including when he'd broken Ralph's wrist. Patrick didn't like the feeling of being an observer, of being along for the ride. He didn't ever want to feel that again, he wouldn't. Feeling a bit more steady, he propped himself up on his elbow, wondering where Ralph was, and what the hell he was going to tell him to explain what had happened.
When Patrick looked across his cell he was surprised to see Ralph standing up, he didn't look scared. Was he smiling, Patrick wondered. Ralph began to clap, at which time Patrick noticed his wrist was completely healed. What the hell was going on?
"It's about damn time, boy. I wondered how many times I was going to have to beat the shit out of you before you'd show me what you really were. Get up on your damn feet, now, we have a lot to talk about."