Burke and the Vampire

Chapter 1-3

Six months later, his parents were dead and he was living in the house close to Audubon Park where he’d grown up. In the interim, he had done as much research as possible about vampires and how to eliminate them. Not that he ran into them by the dozens, but he had come across three. Two had seemed benign—or at least they hadn’t attacked anyone. They did vanish without a trace soon after he’d spotted and began to follow them. He wondered if they knew he was behind them and thought maybe he was cruising and would try to pick them up. If so, neither of them acknowledged him. Instead, they turned a corner and disappeared before he got there.

He came upon the third one very late one evening. The vampire was on Magazine, not too far from one of Burke’s favorite places to eat when he didn’t feel like cooking. As Burke followed him, the creature approached a young man. Whatever he said to him had the young man nodding. They walked together to a cut through between two houses, with Burke a few yards behind them. When they were deep in the shadows, the vampire stared directly into young man’s eyes. As far as Burke could figure from what he’d learned, the vampire was mesmerizing him before feeding.

This time, Burke was prepared. He had bought a small pistol from an illicit dealer and taught himself how to make silver bullets. Then he had spent some time learning how to shoot accurately. Now, he pulled it from his pocket and fired. Much to Burke’s dismay, the vampire moved at the same moment and the bullet hit it in the shoulder. Still, it accomplished something because the vampire screamed in pain before vanishing. His intended victim shook himself as he came out of his trance. Looking around, he frowned, saying loudly enough for Burke to overhear, “What the hell? Where the hell am I?” before walking back to the street.

At least I know one thing is true. Silver can hurt vampires. Badly, from the way it reacted.

After that experience, Burke honed his shooting skills until he could hit both stationary and moving targets with precision.

In the three years after his parents’ deaths, he had become a seasoned vampire hunter, taking out any of them he came across who were, or obviously planned on, attacking humans. Burke often wondered if his ability to find vampires also included something which kept them from realizing he knew what they were. He figured, hoped, it meant they couldn’t read his mind, presuming they tried. Not that they’d have a reason to until it was too late. Either that or he had a built-in mind shield to hide his intentions when he did go after one. Or maybe both, he decided.

There’s too damned many of them, he sometimes thought. I’ll never be able to eliminate all the predators. He had decided from the beginning not to attack ones who were doing nothing wrong. Maybe, just maybe, not all of them are evil. If there are, well, good ones for lack of a better word, I suppose they have as much right to live as I do.