Vampire and His Pleasant Companions: Volume 5 - Part 4

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He was sunk in a sleep so deep, not even dreams dared draw near. It was like floating aimlessly in the deep sea, where no light could reach. From time to time, he would sink, then rise, over and over again.

Then suddenly, his body began to rise—faster than ever before. The darkness surrounding him brightened rapidly, dazzlingly so. The moment the light burst open, he opened his eyes.

Above him was a blue sky, with a thin veil of clouds. Around him, bare concrete stretched in all directions. Was that… a collapsed ceiling?

…He smelled blood. The stale, metallic scent of old blood mixed with disinfectant… Where was this place?

He looked around.

Directly across from him stood a white iron-framed bed. Its mattress was torn, the inner springs jutting out. The linoleum floor was littered with chunks of concrete. A chair had fallen over. A door hung from a broken hinge. The window glass was shattered, and the curtain hung in tatters, its lower half ripped away.

This is… a hospital, isn’t it? But looking at it now, there’s no way it’s still functioning. The walls were scribbled over with spray paint in a riot of colors, the most eye-catching being a red “FUCK YOU” written on the left wall. Beneath it sat a black bench, and Kyiv was curled up on it like a cat.

Al slowly sat up. He’d been lying on one of the filthy pipe-frame beds. The white sheet bunched at his knees, and across it, the window’s frame cast a sharp shadow.

The sun was out. He wondered what time it was as he gave his head a gentle shake. It felt heavy. His eyes kept flickering, everything unbearably bright.

He rubbed them with both hands—then froze at the sensation. His hands… they weren’t claws. They were human hands.

Panicking, he grabbed at his face. No fur. And it was daytime—yet he hadn’t turned into a bat!

He stepped down onto the floor and walked toward the window. He was completely naked, but didn’t care in the slightest. It had been so long since he’d felt sunlight—its warmth—directly on his skin.

The sun shone over a vividly colored world… and yet he was still in human form.

What is this?

[Good morning, Al.]

When he turned around, Kyiv was getting up from the couch with a yawn.

[You’re finally awake. How do you feel?]

Outside the broken window, birds chirped.

[Kyiv… I’m in human form,] Al said, repeatedly opening and closing his palms.

[That’s right.]

[But why? I’m always a bat during the day. This is weird. And where are we? This place is creepy.]

Al fired off questions in rapid succession, and Kyiv waved him off with a drawn-out, [Now, now.]

[Calm down. I’ll explain everything in order. But first, could you get dressed? I don’t know where to look.]

Al put on the clothes that had been folded and left at the head of the bed. As he fumbled with them, his earlier confusion and agitation began to subside.

[You’ve been sleeping for the past two weeks straight,] Kyiv began.

[Two… two weeks!?]

The memory of the silver knife and the blood came flooding back like an avalanche.

[I was stabbed—by Stan, I was stabbed! I was dying, so is the shock what’s making me stay in human form even during the day!?]

Kyiv shrugged exaggeratedly, exasperated.

[Don’t you remember drinking my blood?]

[Huh?]

[That day, I got a message from Pat that you didn’t show up for your shift. So I came back home. And I found you collapsed on the floor, on the verge of death. You’d been stabbed in the heart with a silver knife. A normal vampire would’ve died instantly—turned to ash. But you still had part of your humanity left, so you just barely survived. Even so, if I’d left you like that, you would've died. A wound to the heart is fatal even for a human. So I took a gamble and made you drink my blood.]

…He didn’t remember. Not a single thing.

[You really are a glutton. I was this close to collapsing from anemia, you know.]

He looked at his hands again. He had been on the verge of death. Drinking Kyiv’s blood unconsciously.

[You’re the first case I’ve seen like this, so I was worried—what if you just kept sleeping for five or ten years straight? But you woke up after two weeks, so I am relieved.]

Being in human form during the day—did that mean he had become a true vampire? A real... vampire. Al clutched his head in both hands and shook it violently from side to side.

[I-I never wanted to become a full vampire!]

[Then, would you rather have died like that?]

Kyiv’s voice was so cold it felt like it could freeze his heart. Al swallowed the next complaint.

[When you were on the verge of death, you said this to me: "If I’m going to die, I want to do it by Akira’s side.]

His hands clenched tightly, nails digging into his palms. The memory of being stabbed, the sensation of all strength leaving his body like a balloon deflating, came rushing back. If Kyiv had left him like that, he probably would have died. But… but still...

[Al, come here.]

His name was called gently. Still hanging his head, Al slowly approached Kyiv.

[It’s only natural to feel confused. I know better than anyone how much you resisted the idea of becoming a real vampire. But that day, the police were coming, there was no time, and we had no choice. More than anything, I didn’t want to let you die.]

Kyiv tugged his arm and had him sit beside him. He gently patted Al’s shoulder as if to soothe him.

…He understood. He had been dying, and Kyiv saved him. There was no other way to survive. But his mind couldn’t catch up with what had happened. It was scary. Not understanding made it all the more terrifying.

[There are a few things I need to explain to you. First off… our house burned down.]

Al whipped around to face him.

[Burned down? But how!?]

As vampires who lived on blood, they didn’t eat human food. They didn’t cook, so they didn’t use gas. A fire shouldn’t have been possible.

[It was arson,] Kyiv said flatly.

Who would do something like that—? As he began to ask, a face flashed through Al’s mind.

[Most likely, it was to kill you. The culprit was Stan.]

Stan, who had disguised himself as Richard and appeared before him. The black hat and black clothes—were they meant to hide the blood splatter? He said he bore no grudge against Al, and yet he had tried to kill him. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t make sense of it.

[That day you were stabbed, you drank my blood until you were full and then fell asleep. You suddenly went limp, and it was tough convincing the police everything was fine. Even when a human becomes a vampire, they sleep for days like they’re dead. But you weren’t turning from human to vampire. You were a half-vampire who took in the blood of another, aiming to become a complete one. There's no precedent for that. I had no way of predicting how long you’d sleep.]

Kyiv scratched his cheek lightly with a fingertip.

[When I got home that day, the only scent left in the living room was Stan’s. There’s no doubt he was the attacker. The real issue is the silver knife. Was it just coincidence, or did he know you were a vampire and try to kill you because of that? I needed to find out. There’s a chance this could lead to a kind of vampire hunt, like the old witch hunts.]

[Just as I started investigating, Stan reached out first. I don’t know if he heard it from Richard or what, but he knew you were living with me. He couldn’t get in touch with you and called to ask what was going on. I wasn’t sure what to say, but in the end, I told him honestly that you were hurt and recovering at home. I figured if he knew you were alive, he might try something. And the next day—guess what happened?]

Al shook his head.

[Flyers were scattered all around the house. They said things like "God’s wrath will befall the homosexuals." I was wondering what kind of nonsense someone was shouting in this day and age, especially in a city like LA where there are so many gay people. Then, two days later, someone set our house on fire. They must’ve doused it in gasoline—the fire spread abnormally fast. All I could do was grab you and run. …Stan tried to kill both you and me, making it look like the work of some homophobic freak.]

He was thorough. Even when Stan stabbed Al, he had said he wanted a "certain death." If Al died, what exactly would Stan be satisfied with? What would he gain?

[One thing I don’t understand is—why did he call the police right after stabbing you? At that point, the only person who knew you were lying inside the house, possibly dead, was the one who did it. There’s no doubt it was Stan who called it in directly. But normally, if you kill someone, you’d want to delay the discovery as long as possible, right? The fact that he intentionally reported it immediately—tried to get you discovered—makes me think he had a motive. Maybe he wanted to make your death public as quickly as possible.]

Kyiv spread his hands. [That’s as far as my theory goes.]

[I thought about cornering Stan and making him confess, but it’s dangerous to get too close now, when we don’t even know his true identity. Our bodies weren’t found in the ashes. He’s probably still searching for us. We could’ve gone to another state, but the idea of getting too far from him made me nervous. If this turns into a vampire hunt, it could put others like us at risk too. This ruin was the best compromise I could come up with. It’s close to the city, yet normal people don’t come near. Actually…]

Kyiv suddenly lowered his voice.

[This place used to be a hospital—and it’s a famous haunted spot. There were so many ghost sightings that at one point, spirit-chasers from all over the country would come here. But after the building partially collapsed and killed a few people, it was sealed off. Even now, you’ll occasionally spot some ghost-hunting maniacs lurking around the perimeter, but no one comes all the way up to this fourth-floor room. Maybe it’s the sea breeze, but the decay is pretty extreme—sometimes parts of the ceiling or walls cave in, so be careful walking around. This room’s relatively safe. Being on the top floor means it isn’t carrying the structural weight like the lower ones.]

Al had unconsciously clasped his hands together tightly.

Kyiv tilted his head and said, [Huh?]

[It’s not exactly safe, but as long as you watch your step, you’ll be fine.]

Seeing Al frozen in place, face tense, Kyiv seemed to catch on.

[Wait… Al, are you scared of ghosts?]

[Of course I am!]

Al protested with teary eyes, but Kyiv just looked genuinely puzzled.

[Why though?]

[B-because they’re dead but still show up!]

[Well, yeah, that’s why they’re ghosts.]

[The story you told earlier about the ceiling collapsing—what if that was the ghost’s fault too!?]

Kyiv shook his head side to side, then gently patted Al’s shoulder.

[Listen—think about it. We’ve already died once too. Ghosts are basically like distant relatives to us. And no matter what pranks they pull, we’re not gonna die. We’re vampires.]

That’s true… Even if the ceiling collapsed and crushed him into a pulp, as long as he drank blood, he could come back. But…

[We’re both technically dead, so you shouldn’t discriminate against ghosts. In fact, while you were sleeping, a bunch of bodiless folks came to greet you.]

…Al screamed silently in his heart.

He didn’t care if they meant well—he didn’t want to be friends, didn’t even want to be near them.

He made up his mind. He’d sleep outside on the beach at night if he had to—but he was getting out of this hospital. No matter what, he would.

The truth is, even now, he was a little scared.

The ceiling had collapsed, letting the sky in, making the place feel weirdly open and bright, and yet…

As he looked around, he noticed a silver knife sitting on the tea table next to the sofa.

When he picked it up, a chill ran through his entire body. Goosebumps erupted across his skin.

…There was no doubt about it.

This was the knife that had stabbed him.

[It’s kind of strange to use a table knife to kill someone, isn’t it? I mean, he could’ve used a jackknife or a kitchen knife—something sharper.]

When Al turned the silver knife upright, he saw half of his own face reflected on its side.

[I’ve seen the same knife at Richard’s house before. He said it was old and rare.]

Kyiv crossed his arms and let out a thoughtful hum.

[Stan lives at Richard’s place, right? It’d be easy enough for him to take one. But that just makes it even more curious—why would he deliberately choose a murder weapon that could be traced back so easily? And it didn’t seem like he knew you were a vampire, either.]

Richard’s knife… Richard…

Al gripped the knife in both hands, holding it tightly.

[When he came to kill me, Stan was disguised exactly like Richard—he called it a surprise party.]

Kyiv took the knife from Al and tapped it lightly against his palm.

[If the scene of your death had silverware from Richard’s mansion left behind, the police would immediately suspect someone from the Richard household. That’s where eyewitnesses come in. If someone reported seeing a man who looked like him, everyone would assume the culprit was Richard. And since Stan lives with him, he’d probably have a good idea of Richard’s schedule—he could’ve manipulated his alibi. It’s a crude move, but one the general public would understand.]

Kyiv sighed heavily.

[To go that far to frame Richard… maybe it means he really hates him.]

[Hate him?]

Al instinctively recoiled when Kyiv pointed the knife at him.

[Think about it. Stan lives with Richard. If he just wanted to kill him, he had countless chances. But he didn’t. If Richard simply died, he’d be remembered as a tragic, brilliant producer. But if he went to prison for murder, people would look at Richard’s work differently. As the work of a criminal. Its value might even drop. I think the real aim was to ruin Richard’s entire life—his reputation and everything.]

If Stan had tried to kill someone like Al, someone he had no personal grudge against, just to destroy Richard… then his plan had failed. The body he thought he’d left behind had escaped, and Richard wasn’t being held responsible.

That means Stan will probably try again. And next time, it might not be Al—it could be someone else.

[I’m going to go talk to Stan right now!]

Al sprang up from the sofa.

[Talking is fine, but how about we make a plan first? Stan isn’t exactly subtle. You could call him out, and the second you say “long time no see,” he could shoot you.]

Kyiv was right. When Stan stabbed him, there hadn’t been the slightest hesitation. On the contrary—he’d been smiling and chatting like normal just moments before. That wasn’t the Stanley Griffith Al had known. He needed to proceed with caution.

Why did Stan hate Richard so much? Richard had been very fond of him. He always praised Stan’s talent as an actor. If Stan had asked, Richard would have gladly created a role for him in his movies. There was no reason for resentment—if anything, he should’ve felt grateful.

[Hmm?] Kyiv suddenly narrowed his eyes, as if looking into the distance.

[What is it?]

Kyiv raised a finger to his lips—silently signaling “quiet.”

Al clamped both hands over his mouth.

[…Someone’s near the building,] Kyiv whispered.

Al strained his ears. …Footsteps. Someone was rustling through the grass, circling the building. Occasionally, there was a soft click—probably a camera shutter.

[Someone came around this time yesterday, too. Took a lot of photos, so I figured they were a ghost hunter or horror fan… Hm? This scent—looks like it’s the same guy from yesterday. I feel like I might recognize his face, somehow…]

Kyiv, being a fully-complete vampire, had extraordinarily sharp hearing and sense of smell. …No, wait. By all logic, Al should also be a complete vampire now. He could remain in human form even during the day. It’s just that—compared to Kyiv—his senses might still be a little dull.

Still crouched low, Al crept toward the window, sniffing with a soft sniff sniff. The scent of a human he caught—he recognized it. He stood up and peeked quietly down at the overgrown yard from the window. A man holding a large camera, repeatedly snapping the shutter, suddenly stopped and lowered his camera, as if he’d sensed a presence. It was just as he thought!

“What Mitani doing?”

Mitani looked up and muttered, half in disbelief, “...Wait, are you Kane?”

“Yes. Me Kane.”

“What am I doing? That’s what I should be asking you. The sign says no entry inside the building—are you sure it’s okay to be in there?”

Since it wasn’t exactly okay, Al tilted his head with a vague “Umm…” Seeing that, Mitani said, “Well, if Kane’s fine with it, maybe I’ll come in too,” and started heading toward the building.

“No. Me come there.”

Al waved both hands, gesturing "stay there, stay there."

[So that Asian guy really is your friend, huh.]

Kyiv, still with his arms crossed, nodded.

[Yeah. He’s Mitani, a Japanese actor.]

[I have a hard time remembering Asian faces and names. Come to think of it, didn’t one of my horror-fan actor friends say they came from Japan to audition? That must’ve been him.] Seeming to have satisfied himself with that conclusion, Kyiv muttered, [Horror fanatic, right… horror fanatic…] under his breath.

The two of them left the building together. Mitani already knew that Al was rooming with Kyiv, but it had been since that film shoot in Chicago that the two had last seen each other.

Mitani had successfully passed the audition for a project produced by Richard and had come to the U.S. for filming. It was a last-minute audition to replace someone who’d dropped out, apparently held just before the start of production. This time too, he was staying at Pat’s place.

“I tried reaching out to you a few times, Kane, but you never replied. I thought something was off and asked Pat—she told me your house had caught fire, and after that, you disappeared. I was shocked. I’m really glad you’re both okay.”

Kyiv had told him that during the fire, all he could manage was getting Al out safely.

“Sorry. Fire… smartphone burned… maybe.”

“Pat’s little brother, Gary, mentioned that before the fire, flyers had been spread around smearing you guys. The neighbors were saying that since your bodies weren’t found in the burned ruins, maybe some extremist group had kidnapped you. Richard was worried, and the police were searching too, but they never found anything. Gary figured you two must’ve gone into hiding after sensing you were in danger.”

Even though he’d landed a role, Mitani’s was just a minor part with few scenes, so in the time between shoots, he’d apparently been looking for them while also visiting haunted places, a personal hobby. He was due to be at the studio three hours from now.

Mitani stared at Al’s face intently.

“What’s with the hair and eye color?”

“Hair… eyes?”

“They’re both black now, aren’t they?”

…But Al hadn’t done anything to change them. The only possibility was...

[Kyiv, do you have a mirror?]

As if he’d been expecting the question, Kyiv pulled a mirror from his chest pocket and flipped it open.

Al peered into the small mirror.

There, reflected back, was Albert Irving—his face unchanged, but now with black hair and black eyes.

He had originally been blond, with green eyes.

When he’d become a half-vampire, they had turned to brown hair and gray eyes. And now, as a full vampire, a creature of the night, his hair and eyes had been dyed the color of darkness.

But of course, he couldn’t just tell Mitani, “My hair and eye color changed because I turned into a full vampire.”

"...Mood... change..."

Al mumbled trying to dodge the question.

Mitani chuckled a little. “Japanese is a tough language, huh.”

“Anyway, what are you doing in a place like this, Kane?”

"That is... um..."

Kyiv, who couldn’t understand Japanese, just stood beside them with a pleasant smile. Al debated what to say. He definitely couldn’t tell Mitani they were hiding because someone tried to kill them. Better to just say they were laying low for health reasons or something. Akira had used a word for that once, saying he wanted to try it himself. It was… what was it again?

“I do tofu.”

“Huh?” Mitani blinked. “Tofu? You mean the food?”

“No, no! Not tofu—uhh… toji! I do toji!”

Mitani’s brows lifted in surprise. “‘Toji’? Wow, that’s a pretty old-fashioned word. I didn’t know there were hot springs around here.”

Hot springs? Al wasn’t quite sure what Mitani meant by that, but since he seemed convinced and no longer suspicious, Al figured it was good enough and nodded along. He had clearly confused the words for tofu (the food) and toji (a traditional Japanese practice of recuperating at a hot spring)—but luckily, it had somehow worked out.

"Pat and Richard were really worried about you. Don’t you wanna tell them you’re okay?"

"Uhh..."

Telling Pat might be fine, but he could never tell Richard—who lived with Stan. Their whereabouts would be exposed in no time. Maybe someday, but not yet.

While Al was stuck thinking how to explain it, Mitani leaned in and looked at his face.

"...Kane, are you having some kind of trouble with Richard-san? Like... something romantic?"

Al quickly shook his head side to side.

"No love trouble me. That is Kyiv."

He pointed at the man on his right. Kyiv, still smiling politely, glanced back and forth between them with a curious [Hm?].

"I'm not talking about Kyiv-san. I meant you. You sure there's nothing going on?"

Even after Al denied it, Mitani kept pressing.

"Why you think I have trouble?"

After a brief silence, Mitani seemed to steel himself.

"Actually..."

He hesitated, then began.

"It’s personal, so I wasn’t gonna say anything—and even if it’s true or not, it’s not my business—but there’s been a rumor since the audition."

"What rumor?"

Mitani hesitated again.

"Well… they said Richard got obsessed with some new actor who only had a minor role in his film. He started stalking him. The guy got tired of it, quit acting, moved in with his boyfriend, and now works as an embalmer’s assistant..."

That’s way too specific for a made-up story, Al thought as he listened. But something about it made him tilt his head.

Wait... this story...

"Kane, you had a minor role in Richard’s film. You live with Kyiv-san. And you work as an embalmer’s assistant."

"Ah!" Al cried out.

"That rumor was all over the audition venue. People said Richard liked brown hair and gray eyes. Some actors even rushed out to buy color contacts."

After the audition, Mitani had asked him, “Kane, did you maybe fall for someone here?” He must’ve been trying to confirm the rumor in a roundabout way.

"Richard no! I not like! That stalker story... it all lie from the nose!"

Al denied it with all his might.

Mitani blinked, then corrected gently, “You mean ‘from the start,’ not ‘from the nose.’”

“When I saw your hair and eye color were different, I wondered if maybe you were trying to avoid Richard—like a disguise. Honestly, something about this whole thing feels off to me, but the truth is, people are still talking about it on set. Of course, no one’s bold enough to ask Richard directly, but… there are rumors. That the fire at your house was started by the jealous Richard. That your boyfriend was killed and you were taken captive, locked up in Richard’s mansion…”

Who would spread something so awful… and why?

As Al turned it over in his mind, the tangled threads began to quietly unravel.

Stan had declared he was done with acting, yet suddenly came back. If he could get into the studio, and with the number of people he likely knew there, it would’ve been easy for Stan to spread any kind of rumor. And if the leak came from someone living in Richard’s home, that alone would give it credibility.

With this much groundwork laid, if something happened to the rumored rookie actor, suspicion would fall on Richard immediately. Then when the police came to investigate, the actors—fed a bunch of lies by Stan—would all speak up with baseless stories.

Al clenched his back teeth hard.

It was awful. Unforgivably awful.

[Sorry to interrupt, but—]

Kyiv cut into the conversation.

[We’ve actually got something important to take care of right now.]

He glanced at his wristwatch as he said it.

But Al hadn’t heard anything about any plans.

[Kyiv, I still want talk little more with Mitani—]

Kyiv’s face was smiling, but his eyes were completely serious, radiating a silent pressure that clearly said, [Do as I say].

“Ah, I see. I’ll stick around a little and take some more photos,” Mitani replied, even though he had looked like he still had more to say.

“Mitani, glad to see you.”

“I’m relieved too. Can I tell Richard you’re doing okay?”

“No—wait. I tell him. Please don’t say to Richard or other people.”

“Okay,” Mitani said, giving a thumbs up.

“See you again, Mitani.”

With a cheerful [Bye] and a wink, Kyiv grabbed Al’s arm and started pulling him along.

[Kyiv, what’s the important thing?]

Kyiv didn’t answer. Still silent, he dragged Al around to the back of the ruins, looking this way and that with sharp eyes.

[Ah, this’ll work.]

He walked over to a big tin garbage can and opened the lid. Then turned back to Al.

[Get in. It’s empty inside.]

He pointed at the garbage can.

[W–why!?]

[Just do it. In five seconds.]

[No idea what’s going on!!]

Kyiv began counting.

Panicking, Al leapt into the garbage can, and the lid slammed shut from above with a bang. His vision went completely dark.

The inside smelled faintly of decay.

[Kyiv, what this is…?]

As he spoke, that familiar feeling crept in. The one he knew all too well.

No way, it can’t be, he thought—but even as the denial took shape, his entire body flared up with heat, like it was on fire.

No. No no no… this can’t be happening. But his body didn’t care what he thought— the heat condensed, drawing inward into a tight knot in the center of his being.

[Time to check, I guess.]

Clang! The lid of the garbage can flew open.

Al wriggled out from inside the clothes, then let out a sharp "Gyaa!" at Kyiv, who was peering in at him.

His hands were claws. His body was covered in thick fur.

He was a bat. He could tell.

But… hadn’t he become a complete vampire?

Kyiv muttered, [Knew it.] and lifted Al—clothes and all—like he was scooping up a husk.

[After you drank my blood, you were able to stay human during the day. But… seems like the fusion between two vampires wasn’t perfect. Even while you were asleep, from 1 to 3 PM every day, your body still reverted to bat form.]

"Gyaa!" (What’s that supposed to mean!?), Al shrieked.

[I was surprised too. I figured maybe once you woke up, it would stop. That being human in the day would stick. But nope—still the same.]

So what does that make him? Maybe ninety percent a true vampire?

He hadn’t wanted to be a full vampire, but this awkward in-between state wasn’t ideal either.

[There’s not much we can do. You could try drinking my blood again, but honestly, you drank so much when you were dying that it’s unlikely you’ll ever take in more than that. I think... this is your max.]

Should he be glad about the ten percent still left unfinished? Or not?

While Al mulled it over with a conflicted heart, Kyiv plopped him onto his shoulder with a soft sigh and a casual [Welp.]

[Now that you’re fully awake, and we’ve confirmed the bat thing... what do we do next?]

It was all but certain now that Stan’s hatred toward Richard was personal.

As long as they avoided Stan, they’d be safe.

But Richard’s circle might be under surveillance—Stan could’ve hired people to watch him. So they’d decided to head back into the city in disguise.

Al, being in bat form, wasn’t a problem.

Kyiv had never met Stan face to face, but Stan knew about him—so there was a chance he’d recognize him. Stan could have turned into a bat himself, but then he’d run into the classic vampire problem: no clothes when you change back.

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