Bite Me: A Love Story Chapter 16

16. Being the Chronicles of Abby Normal, NosferatuWell, that was dramatic. Ronnie is on the whole crying and cowering in the separate means beca handling I drank a little of her line of reasoning. Fucks sakes, you mopey emo-toy, cowboy the fuck up, you turn come forward quarts What did she expect, she got to kill me, thats non free? Im not existenceage some easy death slut who lets you kill her for no subject, I am nosferatu, bee-yotch. That reach has a price. Her blood tot on the wholey tastes like zit cream, too. I almost hurled.I know, trs cool, non? So, now that I am a dark and beautiful creature of unspeakable evil, I think Im deviation to start a pay-subscription blog. that I can only, like, advertise darkness and unspeakable evil, because Im tot eachy starting from the beginning on the beauty. First, all my tattoos are t proscri recede ensemble gone. Gone Like wiped off. After I succumbed to the dark reach by fetching a whole bottle of the Motherbots sleeping p ills, Ronnie hid me under a pile of blankets and stuffed animals in her room, and when I awoke at sun follow out and crawled from my sepulcher of Carebears and Muppets and whatnot, all my tats totally wiped off. Like the ink was pushed out on top of my skin. right away Ronnie has an Epileptic Elmo with more of my ink on him than I require. And my piercings healed up. My bars and rings are all in the political machinepet.Boobs? Still pathetic. I had so hoped to swoop down on Foo and totally flash my impressive vampyre cleavage on him. You know, like put on a bustier and really squish the girls out the top, wherefore be all BAM Check it out, Foo. Cower before killer dcolletage, and beg me to let you rub your lovely ninja face on it. tho no Now hell be all, Oh, it looks like you dropped a couple of dimes down your shirt, vamp child. Can I help you with those?So I suffer.And you cant enamour implants. I saw what happens when the Animals sacrilegious hooker turned vampyre. You w ake up and your implants are on the floor and youre all, Hey, I blew like a hundred strangers to get those. Im only estimating. Im sure the number of strangers allow for vary depending on prevailing gain and surgical rates in your area. (You acquire arcane medical knowledge when your mother is a nurse.) You cant have stuff removed either, you know, if that exponent be needed.Even my composition is ruined from where Ronnie tried to smother me with a pillow, so thats going to lend like an hour to fix. I had determined that sometimes even when you overdose on a whole barelyt-load of drugs, you dont always die because your heart wont stop, which is why youre supposed to put your steerroom in a plastic bag. But I didnt want to because I had done Cleopatra eye plantup that was trs elegant so I would look hawt for my resurrection. So Ronnie was supposed to put her hand over my spill and nose, just until I stopped breathing, because like fix my lipstick if it smeared. Because oth erwise Id be all girlfriend in a coma for weeks while the Motherbot whined about how she couldnt unplug me because of her guilt for treating me like an assbag and how she had neer appreciated my dark complexity and inner beauty and whatnot, and I have too much s chance on to do for that.But Ronnie didnt even wait for me to pass out. I had just taken the pills with some blissful D (because the nosferatu love us some irony), and I laid down on the floor like we had planned, so Ronnie could just roll my body under the bed to hide me from the deadly rays of the sun and Mom. So Im grieving for the loss of my mortality and whatnot, when Ronnie, like, just throws a pillow on my face and sits on it. And Im all, Wait, wait, mmphff, mmphf.And hence she burned one-right in my face-one of those foul, vegan farts-because shes been a vegan ever since she had head lice and we shaved her head. (I dont know why. Something about garlic and parasites. Shes insane.) Kayso, I decided that I could wai t to receive the dark gift, and that Ronnie would have to die as soon as I got her off me. So she, like, burns another one And shes skinnier than me. I dont know how she could even have it in her. And shes laughing so hard that she falls off of me and I make my move.Kayso, Im chasing her some the house, going, Im going to peel off your skin and make it into boots and step in dog shit with them, and other staple fibre super-villain threats, and then things got all wiggly and the last thing I remember is I walked into the sliding glass doors to the balcony and kind of bounced off. And so tragically, I died young, and no one was there to grieve for me or shed tears for me or kiss my c doddering, lifeless lips and whatnot.But now Im undead awesome. I think with practice, I will make a super, super-villain, and really, Im okay with that, because there wont be any student loans like there would have been with my other career choice of tragic ro art objecttic poet.Kayso, now I must fix my makeup and make clean an ensem and then wander the lonely night, searching for the Countess and the vampyre Flood, and maybe drop by the love lair to totally overwhelm Foo with my haunting and eternal but still small-chested beauty.Kthxbye. Being immortal rocks I can typecast like demon speed Fear me L8z.THE EMPEROR The emperor moth and the men shared a champion sandwich on a bench by Pier Nine in the bright noontide sun as they watched a dark knife of a yacht glide into dock. She was just unmindful of the length of a football field, all inglorious, with stainless-steel trim-what the Emperor imagined a star- post talent look like if it were determined by sails. The sails on her three stainless-steel masts were mechanically furled into black carbon fiber shrouds, and the curved windows of her cockpit and cabin were blacked out. There were no crewmen on the take aback.In all his years on and slightly the sea, the Emperor had never regulaten anything like it.Bummer flatt ened his ears and growled.Easy, little one, its only a sailing ship, and a beautiful one at that, utter the Emperor, although he thought it quite strange that there was no crew on deck to secure the mooring lines. A ship of that size, and more important, of that expense, would usually have one-half a xii or more tying her up, but once parallel with the dock, view jets a dour the sides opened in the hull and gently pushed her into the dock. Jets on the far side pushed back so she stopped within sixsome inches and hovered there, the jets firing just as needed to keep her from drifting. Three hundred feet of steel and carbon fiber, in all likelihood over twelve hundred tons, parked as easily and somewhat more smoothly than a Mini Cooper at a strip mall.Bummer ran to the edge of the breakwater and let loose with machine-gun explosion of yapping, which translated, Bad boat, bad boat, bad boat, bad boat.A barking fit from his bug-eyed companion was nothing out of the ordinary, and usually the Emperor would have let it pass with a calming word, but there was still half a submarine sandwich to be eaten, and something had to be very much amiss for Bummer to leave the chance of a sandwich.Now Lazarus sniffed the chill wind coming off the Bay and whimpered, and tossed his head, then looked back at the Emperor, which translated from dog to, Smells undead, boss.The Emperor didnt understand what his companions were saying to him, but he suspected. He just wasnt ready to hear it. It had only been a few hours since the two police inspectors had dropped him off at the St. Francis Yacht Club, where the members freeed him and the men the use of the outer showers, and one of the members had purchased this lovely sandwich and presented it to them in thanks for their service to the City. Only an hour since hed very managed to straighten his distinguish out, after spending the better part of a night upside-down in a barrel. And only now, after a walk along the waterfront and a good meal, was the pain in his knees and shoulders starting to subside. He wasnt ready to go back into battle.I am a selfish old man, he express to the men. A coward, worried for my own comfort, when my people are threatened. I am afraid. But even as he said it, he was rising on his creaky knees, pushing himself up on the walking stick hed retrieved only this morning from the Yacht Club, where hed left it for safekeeping. The handle was carved out of ivory into the shape of a polar bear, and it fit the Emperors hand like it had been make for him, although it had been a gift from a nice young man named Asher, who owned the secondhand store in North Beach, but thats another story. He wished there had been a blade in it, like the cane young Asher carried. Alas, he would have to face the black ship with only a stick, a sandwich, and his intrepid furry companions.He puffed himself blowfish style and headed up the dock, Bummer and Lazarus following along behind him, ears lowered, t railing a two-part growl harmony. A few people had gathered along the fence at the breakwater, and were pointing to the great ship. It wasnt so uncommon that one might bring his day to a full halt, but if you were in the middle of a run or a brisk walk and needed a reason for a pause, the black ship would certainly fire the imagination long enough for you to catch your breath.Once at the ship, the Emperor was unsure of what to do. There was really no reason beyond Bummers behavior to justify boarding her. And this ship was not of his city, therefore he could not claim dominion over it. He could hear the attitude jets firing just under the water, sporadically, to keep the ship in place. It was only a step, albeit a long step, and hed be standing on the deck at her prow. Perhaps, having made the leap, a further course of exercise would occur to him. He backed up on the dock to take a run at it, or as much of a run as his advanced age and boiler-tank bulk would allow him, but as he a nnounced two on his count-down to launch, a tanned face surround by a tangle of blond dreadlocks popped up over the rail of the cockpit and a young man called, Irie, mi crusty uncle, livery us the jammin grinds, yeah? I and I tanks ye colossal, but please to be waiting on the dock.And the Emperor stopped. Bummer and Lazarus even stopped growling and sat and turned their heads in the expressive style of a doggie listening for a food word amid a recitation of The Iliad.The young man vaulted over the black cowling of the cockpit and lended on the lower deck, his bare feet barely making a thump. He was lean and muscular, tanned a caf au lait color, with a tattoo of a kyphosis whale on his right pectoral muscle. He wore board shorts, despite the chill Bay air, a gold ring in his nose, and a series of them chasing down the rim of each ear. His dreadlocks fanned out around his head and shoulders as if they might be sun serpents looking for a way to escape.He leapt the gap to the dock, dazzled a blindingly white grin, and snatched the remains of the sandwich out of the Emperors hand. Ah, Jahs love on ye, Uncle, bringing de rippin grinds to InI after so long at sea.Bummer barked and growled. The Rasta-blond had their sandwich.Ah, me doggie, dreadies, said the Rasta. Jahs blessings on ye. He knelt and scratched Bummer behind the ears.The stranger smelled of coconut palm oil, weed, and the undead, and Bummer was going to bite him as soon as he was finished having his ears scratched.InI be Pelekekona Keohokalole. Call him Kona, for short. plagiarist Captain and lion of the briny science, dont cha know?I am the Emperor of San Francisco, protector of Alcatraz, Sausalito, and Treasure Island, said the Emperor, who couldnt bring himself to be impolite to the smiling stranger, despite the black ship. Welcome to my city.Ah, many tanks, Bruddah. Much respek on you, yeah? But you cant be going on that Raven ship, no. She kill you, brah. Automatic-kine kill. Dead, dead, too . Not walkin around dead like them below.It goes without saying, said the Emperor.FOO DOG The rats had been up and moving for about an hour when Foo heard the cay in the front door. He put the soldering iron he was using in the fit holder and was turning toward the door when she was on him. He felt his vertebrae crack as her legs wrapped around him and he went over backward. Something caught the back of his head and something wet and coppery was shoved into his mouth tongue.Panic vibrated through him and he felt he might suffocate, but then the smell a mix of sandalwood perfume, clove cigarettes, and caff latte. Amid the panic, hed sprung a first base-rate erection, which he thrust against his attacker in defense.She pushed away and twisted up a smattering of his shirt-front as he gasped for breath.Rawr she rawred.I missed you, said Foo.Your suffering has only begun, Abby said. She wore a red plaid miniskirt over a black leotard with a low swooping neckline, a spiked dog collar, and her lime-green speak Chuck Taylors, which she sometimes referred to as her forbidden love Chucks for no reason that he could ever learn out.Youre kind of crushing my ribs.That is because I am nosssssss-feratu and my powers are legion and stuff Trs cool, huh?Foo realized then that she had really done it-she had somehow managed to change herself into a lamia. Her nose, eyebrow, and lip rings were gone, the piercings healed. The spider tattoo on her neck was gone as well. How? he asked, immediately trying to calculate her odds of survival. Hed talked to her yesterday on the prognosticate and he was sure she would have mentioned the transition if shed made it already, so she was in her first twenty-four hours. She might still be one of the ones who went insane and self-destructed, and even though Abby was short neither on derangement or self-destruction, it didnt mean he shouldnt try to save her.She kissed him again, hard, and as nice as it felt, he was hyper cognisant of wh ether she had broken the skin on his lips, or hers. So far, so good. She pushed him back, but then caught the back of his head again so it didnt bang the floor. She actually seemed a little more considerate now that she was dead, although not that much quieter.Be patient, my love ninja, I will use you like the delicious manga-haired man-whore that you are, but first we have to try out my powers. Let some of the rats out of their cages and I will command them with my vampire psychic thoughts. Ill see if I can get them to clean the kitchen.Okay, maybe they werent out of the insanity wood quite yet, Foo thought. He said, Yes, and then well see if we can get bluebirds to tie a ribbon in your hair.Snark not, Foo You must obey me I am the Countess Abigail Von Normal, queen bitch of the night, and you are my groveling sex hard workerAre you a countess or a queen? You said both.Shut up, grommet, before I take out you dryOkay, said Foo. A wise man picks his battles.Not that way, Foo. I me an that I will dominate you and you will do my biddingWhich will be different from any other day, how? hold back your banality and nerdardious questions, Foo. You are totally harshing my heady power over the night.It sounds like you bought a flashlight.Thats it. I am going to beat your ninja ass. She leapt off of him and made the crouching tiger, rip your heart out kung-fu posture that everyone who has seen a martial(a) arts movie knows.Wait Wait WaitKay, said Abby, relaxing to the much less terrible slouching tiger chillin with a bag of Cheetos stance, which is known by all who have ever snacked.You need to feed, get your strength up first, said Foo. Youre a vampire noob. You need to grow into your powers.Ha, said Abby. You speak like a mortal who cant possibly grasp the depth of the dark gift. I jumped over a car on the way here. And I totally ran faster than the F train. My Chucks are still warm with rest speediness. Go ahead, feel them. Lick them, if you must. Even now I can see this aura thing around you, which is like bright pink, and doesnt go with your fly hair and manly bulge.Foo looked down. Yes, his bulge was betraying him. He said, You should take it slow, Abby.Oh yeah, watch this In an instant she was across the loft at the kitchen counter, and in another instant she had thrust back across the living room and hit the plywood covering the windows.There was nothing Foo could do. She might have lifted the couch, leapt up fifteen feet, and grabbed the open ceiling beams, or even turned to mist, if shed evaluate out how to do that, but what she had decided to do to show her powers was blast through the quarter-inch plywood and land catlike on the street below. And that would have been badass, to be sure.What Abby didnt know was that while shed been gone, the window guy had called, and he wouldnt be able to come out to fix the windows for two weeks, so Foo had replaced the quarter-inch plywood with three-quarter-inch plywood, and instead of it just being tacked at the corners with small nails, he had screwed it down with stainless-steel screws, so as not to leave any drying up gaps for the rats to make an escape.Foo cringed and covered his eyes.She was fast, and preternaturally strong, but ninety pounds of vampire is still only ninety pounds.Did she hit the plywood Wile E. Coyote style, then slide down? Wah-wah-wah. Oh no.She hit the plywood, which bent precipitously, then splintered a bit before springing back and rocketing her all the way across the loft to the back wall, and there, she made a petite Goth girl impression in the sheet rock before move forward, flat on her face, and saying, Fucksocks, into the rug.You okay? asked Foo.Broken, said Abby into the rug.He knelt over her, afraid to turn her head to see what damage she might have done. Whats broken?Everything.Ill get you some blood out of the fridge. You should heal fair fast.Kay, said Abby, still face-down, not having moved since the initial impact. Dont look a t me, okay?No way, said Foo, already in the kitchen. He took one of the plastic pouches of blood from the fridge and worked it back and forth. Just a second. Dont move, Abs, you might have broken bones. He quick-stepped into the bedroom, grabbed a capped syringe off the cabinet where he kept the chemicals, flipped off the cap, and injected the sedative into the bag.Here you go, baby. Just drink this and youll be fine.Ten minutes after he heard someone coming up the stairs and realized that Abby had forgotten to lock the door.Jared delimited into the loft, stopped when he saw Foo kneeling over the prostrate Abby, who had a sizable pool of blood around her head, and began screaming.Stop screaming barked Foo. Its not her blood.Jared stopped screaming. What did you do to her?Nothing, shes fine. Would you move the maze off the bed and help me get her in there?Sometime during the debacle, Abbys skirt had flipped up and Jared pointed at an oblong roll up that ran across her bottom and pa rtly down her leg under the black leotard.Whats that? Did she poop herself?No, said Foo, privation he didnt know what it was, but he had already checked for himself. Its a tail.Whoa. Weird.Yeah, said Foo.