Deficit vampires survive by drinking their own blood, which has a problem of diminishing returns. They drink the blood from the tips of their fingers. The blood goes from red to black as it loses its nutritional value for the vampires. How to replenish the supply?
My friend Eli P. is one of these deficit vampires. Another is played by the actress Audrey Plaza.
The deficit vampire story is set in an oceanic place with lots of little concrete islands, each no larger than twenty feet across. Wet blue tarps with grey concrete and rebar, stacked one on top of another into perilous towers. A whole island cityscape, taller than it is wide. It is hard to make out visual details because the blue/grey of the tarps and concrete does not stand out from the blue/grey of the churning ocean surrounding it.
Very wet, tarps in constant motion, high winds, hard rain.
The vampire story is how the dream begins, but quickly fades into the background.
I am babysitting some children at their home, which is located outside the island city, on the mainland. The house is rich with natural wood texture and thick carpet. The father and mother of the kids are scientists who make a study of adaptive locomotion of compromised creatures.
There is a cabinet of curiosity inside the nursery, I cannot bear to look.
The parents have a DVD library of animals with strange anatomy, programmed for children to watch. Odd numbered legs, strange coloration, weird mixes between lizards and puppies, slugs and birds, lampreys and kittens. The kids love to watch the animals on the mammoth high definition television screen. It is unsettling to me, which is odd because my tolerance for uncanny is generally quite high. Maybe there is just some things that should not be seen in high def.
Narration is all smiles and sunshine.
“See how Barry moves? Isn’t it marvelous what someone can accomplish even in adverse circumstances?”
The kid’s hug their plush animals close and watch in rapt attention as something with 7 legs, that resembles a moose, stumbles awkwardly from point A to point B, his silhouette captured against a white backdrop with meter measurements to note the dip and swap of his gait. The sound is turned up loud, I can hear every scrape, ever gasp of air, every thump, every wheeze.
“Nature always overcomes. Good job Barry!”
I turn away from the television and move into the pristine white kitchen with oversized picture windows that overlook the beach and ocean below. I eyes drift over the grey water toward the island city of blue tarps and concrete on the horizon. I am transported.
The concrete tarp city is constantly wet, yet there seems to be a high homeless population that thrives in the damp. Here there is an epidemic of deficit vampires. We need to find patient zero in order to move through to the second act.
A pale figure huddled in the dark all awkward too-long appendages, fingers in their mouth, lips black with blood. And just heard beneath the blasting whistling wind, crashing waves below – moist suckling noises.
Waking up comes slow from this one. Groggy for the rest of the morning, and I keep hearing the suckling noises in the back of my head.