Mortal Agent of a Vampire - Chapter 3

Aside from a little dizziness (blood, so much blood!) , I think I’m fairly calm.
“You take one more step over here and I’ll call the police.” I waved my hand as if to form a line of defense in front of me.
Vince made a please gesture, “If you think calling the police will help.”
“Oh, I don’t know much about the police department, maybe they have a division like the Vampire Hunter Squad?” I eyed the tiger, a paper tiger.
“What movie did you see that in?” Vince walked over and tapped me on the shoulder, “Come on, let’s walk and talk.”
I reluctantly obeyed and we left the crime scene together.
“So, you’re a …… vampire?” I felt silly saying the word properly.
“Yes.”
“Why did you let me know?”
Vince shrugged, “You found out on your own.”
“You let me find out on purpose.” I emphasized.
He shook his head, so innocent, “I didn’t even know you were following me.”
Liar.
“What about the girl? Was it right to just leave her there? Is she going to die? Or will she become like you?” One more microphone and I’ll be a paparazzo.
“No, I only sucked 400 milliliters of her blood. She’ll wake up in a little while, and I paid for it.” He sounds like a cold-hearted asshole – he paid for it.
Speaking of which, we were already back on the darkened riverside path. Vince stopped, and I followed, and he leaned down to pick up a pebble and hit the water, the smooth flake crossing the water like a dragonfly, leaving circles of ripples as it disappeared into the yellow, swaying reeds on the opposite bank.
A cold wind hit me and I suddenly shivered, “You’re not going to suck my blood, are you?” I thought of the protagonists in those horror stories, they always died of too much curiosity.
Vince laughed a little, it was one of those nasty laughs, “No, you’re not on my food list, the taste of your blood doesn’t sit well with me, it’s like compressed cookies, it saves your life in a pinch but normally you wouldn’t want to savor it.”
This should have been good news, but instead I felt insulted, “I’m sorry, I’m just a compressed cookie.”
“No offense.” Vince explained, “In fact, that’s exactly why I need you.”
“Why?” I asked lazily, “I thought vampires only needed to drink blood to live forever.”
“That’s not so bad, but immortality can sometimes lead to a lot of trouble.” He paused for a moment, and while I was still waiting in anticipation, he suddenly stopped talking, “It’s getting late, let’s go back.”
“Wait, you haven’t gotten to the point yet.” I protested, feeling like a week’s suspension of a series I’d been watching with great interest, but he was already on his way.
“I think you need time to digest this.” Vince’s undeniable tone made me shut up like a schoolboy. I followed him to the parking lot and he walked me back to my apartment.
As I got out of the car a question occurred to me, “How old are you?” I asked, leaning over the car window.
He gave me a scrutinizing look, as if considering a euphemism, “Is your grandfather still alive?”
“No, he died when I was three years old – are you trying to say that you and he are from the same era?”
He shook his head at my smartassery, “If I had a great-great-grandson, he’d be about his age.”
After saying that, he stepped on the gas, leaving me, who was still reasoning and calculating, to roar away. What kind of generation is a great-great-grandson?
That night was destined to be a sleepless night, fortunately there was a skylight on the slanted ceiling of my room, through which I could see the starry sky, which helped me to think, even though I didn’t recognize any of the constellations except for that “spoon”.
The two main questions that bothered me were one: what the hell did Vince want me to do for him? Two: What’s wrong with my blood?
For the first question, I made all sorts of evil, ghastly assumptions, darker than Edgar Allan Poe’s collection of dark tales. He might be using me to get close to one of his prey and bring it to the altar of this Count Dracula of his. Or maybe he was going to turn me into one of his own kind and then help him rule the world, the latter of which I would probably consider.
Anyway after thinking hard for a while I came to the obvious conclusion, the fact that it actually took me this long to come up with it made me feel stupid, it had to be, and why not, Vince must have wanted me to help him with an autobiography! It wasn’t hard to guess that his life must have been full of ups and downs, intertwined with blood and roses, but he couldn’t find the right person to talk to, he had to walk alone, until he met me and he finally realized that I was the pen for him.
I was so inspired by this idea, I was going to be on fire, I came up with three beginnings in about an hour, each one handsome and endearing. Then a second question surfaced, in a way I was more concerned about why my blood resembled a compressed cookie, was it because I was AB? Or was it just Vince’s personal taste? It was so discouraging, not that I was more than happy to be praised by a vampire for being tasty, but …… you get the idea, there’s always been a human desire to outdo the masses in every way.
I was up early the next morning, determined to kill the newspaper and find Vince and ask him what he was up to, but something unexpected stopped me; I got another letter. The letter was written by, oh, my ex-girlfriend, with whom I’d had an emotional affair going all the way back to third grade. The intensity of her feelings that flowed between the lines broke my heart, and for a split second, the world didn’t matter to me, I wanted to rip off a cloud and fly to her side.
My destination changed, I simply packed my bags and caught a bus back to the city. While waiting for the bus, my racing brain was able to idle a little, so I called Vince, “Hey man, I’ve got some urgent business, I’ll probably have to leave for a few days, can you take a vacation for me?”
The phone hung up with a “beep” and I was about to crack up when an invisible wave suddenly appeared in the air in front of me, like the reflection of a lake that had been blown and wrinkled, and Vince’s silhouette appeared, as he took off his sunglasses.
“Sh……” I stumbled backwards and almost sat down on the steps of the station. Vince pulled me back, “It’s not worth it.”
“What?”
“For a woman.” He explained.
“It’s not a woman, okay? She’s Mina ……” Wait, something didn’t seem right, “How do you know?”
Vince pointed between my eyes and his, “I can read minds, you’re like an open book.”
“It’s closed now!” I said angrily, “Even if you live a long time, it doesn’t mean you get a free pass to judge other people’s lives, understand?”
The shrill horn sounded and I waved at the driver before turning to Vince, “Well, I have to go, remember about the leave.”
He looked like a teacher watching a student go astray, “Come back soon.”
Mina and I had a carefree time, walking on the beach at dusk, photographing the falling leaves of the sycamore trees, canoeing in the park, feeding the swans with breadcrumbs, and her lying in my lap while I read her her favorite book. In the old days, Mina had a drug-like magic for me that was so overwhelming that I was like an asteroid circling around her. So needless to say, when she proposed the breakup, my whole being was shot to hell. The recovery process was painful and slow, but I got through it, but deep down I never really left her. Now, thank God, she’s finally realized who her true love is.
I forgot all about Vince’s words, and it wasn’t until seven days later, when the editor gave me a call about an important story-unprecedented, were his exact words-that I reluctantly said goodbye to Mina and set off on my way home.
The editor, as precise as a Swiss watch, never disappoints, and what awaited me was indeed the biggest event since the founding of the Moonlight Evening News. The government had decided to build a dam upstream of the canyon, and civil environmental groups had risen up against it, with lots of marches and demonstrations, with follow-up interviews by us and the TV station, and also, like Belle Grise, going deep into the wilderness and photographing the flora and fauna that would supposedly be robbed of their habitats by the dam. Vince didn’t take part in the latter because he ‘didn’t want to feed on hare’s blood’, truly a pampered young man.
The series was a huge success, even attracting some nationally influential media. The government was pressured to abandon its plans for the dam, and nature was once again protected, and all was happy, happy, happy.
On Friday night, the editor hosted the party and invited everyone to relax and unwind.
I fit the image of a nerd more than the typey guys and gals at the center of the party, so I didn’t force myself to squeeze into the revelers. I brought a glass of champagne and stood by the pool, where the water was already cool enough in the fall that there wasn’t a single swimmer, and the lights at the bottom made the water look like a giant patois with a single dead leaf swinging around on it.
There was a noise coming from the house, I heard Ms. Gaga singing, and it was this noise, if nothing else, that made the place I was in seem even more sluggish and serene, and I liked to think in this atmosphere.
“I hope you will accept.” Suddenly, a voice rang out beside me.
I turned my head to look at Vince, “Why?” Then I realized with chagrin that he had taken the liberty of reading me this book again. Here’s the thing, one of the papers in town had made me an offer, but I wasn’t sure if I should accept it, as much as I wanted to go home, with Mina there, the editor had pulled me through the worst of times, so how could I just walk away?
“First of all, the other guy already talked to the editor and he agreed to the offer.” Vince said, “Secondly, I’ve been in this place for so long that people are getting suspicious and I need a change of scenery.”
I was touched by the editor’s generosity, and as for that second ……
“What’s it got to do with me?”
“You don’t think I’m telling you my business just because I’m lonely, do you?” Vince squinted at me, he really looked like an old man that way.
I remembered his autobiography and perked up, “Oh, of course not! I know what you mean, and my answer is, you’ve got the right guy!I’ve come up with three beginnings ……”
He had listened in silence and waited for me to finish all three versions before he smiled, which I now know was his ‘stupid human style’ smile, “Why didn’t you go to Hollywood?”
“It’s their loss.” I puffed out my chest.
Vince shook his head, “Very funny, when I’m about to die I’ll be sure to consider your suggestion carefully, but right now, that’s not my intention.”
“Then why didn’t you interrupt me in the first place?” I’m a little pissed off, when he’s dying then the world pretty much has to end, right?
“Come on, who doesn’t like jokes?” Vince winked at me, and for the record, it wasn’t cute, “Are you dying to know what I want with you?”
I sounded serious, “No, you can die, I’m not going to kill my whole family for your secret.”
Vince ignored my underhanded joke again, “I need you, as my agent.” He suddenly turned his head and looked into my eyes.

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