Chapter 3: Poison

Disclaimer: Written in 2001, this story was inspired by characters and situations created by a certain author who discourages fan fiction.

Writer Contacts: To contact Wiebke (and especially if you would like to link to this site or any of the stories), email wiebke@juno.com.

A chill ran up Louis' spine as he stared in disbelief at the storekeeper whom he had so frightened. Not human! Well, of course Louis wasn't human -- but what was the storekeeper? Human or something else?

Before Louis could pose further questions, von Stroheim took the cash box and trayful of mugs and ran to the rear door. Flinging it open, he bolted up the stairs.

Louis was right behind him.

The mugs crashed down the steps and the cash box fell with a loud thud as they reached the landing. Louis had von Stroheim in his arms and was poised for the kill.

The storekeeper stared in panic at Louis' fangs as they inched closer.

"No, don't, please I beg you!" he screamed, pushing against his attacker with considerable force. Louis' lips had sealed themselves against the purple vein. "Please, Louis, oh, please don't. I'm telling you, it's not a good idea!"

It was almost comical, this verbal struggle, Louis thought as he sank his fangs into the warm flesh.

"You'll regret this," von Stroheim gasped, his body stiffening with the slight pain of the bite.

Louis was oblivious to the words. And then the blood hit the roof of his mouth, then his tongue. A peculiar tingling sensation. A taste that was slightly off. A feeling that this blood was different.

As soon as the first draught began to course down his throat, his body gave its instinctive opinion: This blood was poison. A mouthful of blood spattered onto the floor as Louis pushed his would-be victim away.

"What is wrong with your blood?" Louis gasped, coughing and spitting blood but looking von Stroheim straight in the eyes.

Von Stroheim shook his head, grinning and clucking his tongue. "I tried to warn you."

Louis straightened. "Really? Well, if you think you're the first person to protest at my advances, you're quite mistaken."

"I suppose you're right," the Austrian sighed, "but in this case, I had a different reason for protesting... as opposed to the usual."

Louis braced him. "Oh? And what was that?"

"Simply that I've seen it before, only that vampire didn't stop in time and he--"

"Wait! You've been attacked by vampires before?" Louis asked, incredulous.

"Just once," von Stroheim confessed. "At any rate, he didn't stop in time and he... died."

Died? That was impossible. "What do you mean he died?" Louis asked.

"Well, he drank and drank, just as if I were the usual, and he did it so quickly and so thoroughly that by the time he realized it, it was far too late."

"Too late?" Louis asked. He was increasingly thankful that he had not swallowed.

For his part von Stroheim grimaced as he recalled what was obviously a painful memory. "He couldn't digest my blood Louis. It's... not like mortal blood, it's... alive but in different way. And so when he filled himself with it, he suddenly felt as if he's drunk fire or strong poison. Or so he told me. He was fine at first but gradually as the blood spread all through his body, lodging itself in every artery, every capillary..."

Louis winced. "What happened to him? You say he died? Because of the blood?"

"The blood was just the beginning, Louis. The pain grew worse and worse. He told me -- had to, since I was the only one who could help -- that normally his body would process mortal blood, destroying and absorbing it in the process. My blood was different. It could not be synthesized, could not be used. Neither he nor I knew exactly why. In any case, he was starving but he was already filled with useless blood!"

Louis could not hide his horror. "I understand..." he murmurred. "Go on."

"And so the pain grew, the hunger grew, I should say, and finally he began to plead with him. 'Empty me! Empty me!' he begged. He gave me a knife and told me to cut him. I can't stand the sight of blood, but I did it. I cut his throat and his wrists over and over... but as fast as I made the cuts, they would heal!"

"And then what?" Louis asked.

"And then he told me it was the end. This was punishment for his sins, he told me as he had bring him to a field and tie him down for the morning light. I think you know what became of him."

Louis nodded but did not reply. What could he say? He stepped back and began to pace, for the first time actually comprehending that he was actually in von Stroheim's home. It much even more old-fashioned than the store below. Louis glimpsed a room full of floor-to-ceiling bookcases.

He felt himself overwhelmed by a whirl of conflicting emotions. Shock. Fear. Embarrassment at his own foolish impulsiveness. What had he been thinking, trying to kill someone that he thought was immortal? Even if he hadn't been sure at the time, that didn't make a whole lot of sense, especially since he had no wish to harm the man.

Louis turned back to face von Stroheim. "I'm sorry I attacked you," he said. The words felt very strange coming off his tongue. "I know it seems like a crazy thing to do since evidently it wouldn't have killed you but... when you ran from me and said I wasn't human, I was overcome with my instinct to hide the evidence, so to speak. What if you'd called the police?"

The storekeeper chuckled. "The police? Good heavens, don't worry about that. I wouldn't turn you in."