Three Little Words

Three gentle knocks on the door alerted Dr Thomilson. He had only sat down for the first time this evening to watch a program he'd been waiting in anticipation of. A debate between two politicians, one he hated and one he admired. He had turned off the doorbell so there'd be no interruption. Three more knocks on his door. Dr. Thomilson rose abruptly from his chair to answer the door.

His family had left ten minutes before to visit the circus with tickets they'd unexpectedly won.

Gaudish-coloured costumed people hanging from ropes throwing themselves to catch swings or others on swings, men pouring whitewash down each other's trousers, tossing multiple balls in the air, and forcing animals to do tricks, throwing knives at each other. Thomilson shuddered at the thought. He was glad he had a good excuse not to buy a ticket, in that they were completely sold out.

"Probably want me to give them more spending money," went through his head as he headed to the front door. He felt a chill as he opened the door. There, in the doorway, was a tall man with a gaunt pale face. He smiled at Dr. Thomilson. "Forgive me for calling at this late hour, Dr. Thomilson. I contacted your secretary Amanda. I tried to get an evening appointment, but she said you only do appointments in daylight. She gave me your address and said you might be home now".

The words spoken were cultured with a hint of an East European accent.

Thomilson felt shocked. His secretary Amanda should have kept his home address private unless he gave permission.

"I'm sorry, Mr, I'm sorry, but what is your name?

"I am Baron Naxi, Duke of the Albajurianic and Sibiu region of Transylvania. Overlord of Târgu Mureș. High commissionaire of Banská Bystrica. May I enter your dwelling?"

Thomilson felt the urge to let his eyes roll and became irritated. Anyone wanting treatment should call his clinic instead of calling his home.

"Now listen here, Mr Naxi or whatever your name is, I don't want people calling my home after office hours. If you wish treatment, call my secretary and book an appointment during office hours. Like everyone else has to".

He put his hand on the door to close the door more firmly than he thought he needed to.

"Your wife and children will remain safe if you allow me to enter your home of your own free will"

Thomilson felt the icy fingers of fear clutch his heart, "What did you say?".

The eyes of the Baron bore into Thomilson. His smile did little to diminish the fear clasping his bowels.

"Your wife Laura, your twin boys Roger and Billy, and your adorable sweet girls Mae and Lucy will remain safe. Their free night out at the circus will be a memorable one."

Baron Naxi smiled again, this time his teeth were more visible, they were very white.

"I've given strict instructions to my minions. They are not to come to harm. They will return here in four hours, oblivious to any possible danger. This is of course assuming, of course, we can come to an accord, Dr. Thomilson."

Dr Thomilson opened his door to allow Baron Naxi entry.

The Baron didn't move.

"Say the words Dr Thomilson"

A memory surfaced in Thomilson's mind. Some monsters are only allowed to enter a home with an invitation. He looked at Baron Naxi. The Baron smiled and nodded.

"Yes, I am a monster, but your family is in my hand."

Baron Naxi put his hand out palm upwards, then closed it into a fist tightly.

"I am not here to cause you or your family harm."

The Baron then unclenched his fist and, as if shooing a butterfly, raised it into the air.

"Enter my home, Baron Naxi", said the Doctor

The Baron took a step inside.

"You have excellent taste in wallpaper, Dr. Thomilson."

"My mother chose the pattern before she passed on."

"Yes, Patricia, her maiden name was Moorehouse, I'm told."

Thomilson was more uncomfortable than before.

"I made a point of finding out everything about you," said the Baron

"What do you want?" asked Thomilson.

"I'm sorry I was making small talk. I need psychiatric help from you."

"How am I supposed to help one of the Devil's minions? I thought you wouldn't need help."

"I am 875 years old, Dr Thomilson. Do you mind if I call you David or Davy if you prefer? I'm told your friends call you Davy. I don't want to be overly familiar with you if it's not what you're comfortable with."

" You can call me what you wish. You are holding my family to ransom."

"Please have no fear. I need you to help me."

"Again, Baron Naxi, what do you want, and how can I help you?"

The Baron cleared his throat.

"I have always felt the urge to taste human fear. Watching the light go out of a human's eyes as I feed on their fear was sweeter than any wine I had when I was human. The story of vampires is that we feed on blood. That is not so. We drink fear. In my time, I have soaked myself in the fear of multitudes of thousands. You will find me where war is. I go to places where innocents cower in fear. I feed off mothers who fear what will happen to their children. I feed off young girls when they see lust in the eyes of enemy troops. Sometimes, boys will feel terror, too. I have been to many nations where I can feed freely."

The vampire blinked and turned emotionless eyes toward Thomilson.

"Let me show you."

His hands moved to his eyes and pulled out two contact lenses.

Where his eyes had been was midnight black. They were without shine, like two pieces of skin, utterly emotionless. Thomilson felt the chill of terror gnaw his soul.

The Baron sniffed the air, "Yes, you would make for a good meal."

He licked his lips.

"but I have no desire to feed."

Thomilson tried to bring himself together.

"So what is the problem?"

"I told you, I have no desire to feed."

"So when did this start?"

"I was in France before the war ended."

"War?" asked Thomilson.

"Yes, the First World War. People had become hardened by the war and the blood lust of the troops. I can influence some people to make them act in ways they normally wouldn't. So during war, man's base desires awake, and I fully use them. My hunger was insatiable. I fed off hundreds of souls every day. I destroyed whole villages and towns, and I spread terror wherever I went. Nothing could stop me. I rested at a small village after feeding. I sensed some fresh, untainted souls approaching. It was dark, so I could move freely. I picked them off one by one. The last one was a young girl. I decided to spend the night feeding off her. As I tore into her soul, she said, "I forgive you." Now, I cannot feed. Please help me."

~Boris Doyle

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