[post] mortem Chapter Six: Heartless Part II

[ashleyleigh]

"What are you talking about?"

"I...I don't know," Vanessa answered. "It just...came out."

"People don't just say things like that," Chuck said. "What did you mean?"

"There was this spell," she said. "Or I think there was this spell. My memory of it is very hazy."

"You think there was a spell!" he exclaimed. "Are you kidding me?"

"The fact that you're creeping towards me all crazy like isn't helping my concentration," Vanessa said. "Can you sit or something?"

"I could be dead and fancy free right now if it wasn't for you," he snapped. "Don't think I will be doing anything you say."

Vanessa gulped as she thought of any way out of this situation. She knew she got herself into said situation, but she hadn't expected Chuck to react this way when she blurted out what she did. She hadn't thought much about it at all really. But he was so sad it all just flew out of her mouth.

And it’s not like there wasn’t at least some basis for her belief. Ever since she saw those words Chuck scribbled on the wall, she knew there was a connection between the words and the spell. Chuck thought they came from his book, but the little scraps of memories Vanessa saw everyday led her to believe some of the nonsensical babble came from elsewhere. Like flashes in front of her eyes the words would come, usually when she went to sleep or right after she woke up. She hadn’t been able to make out too much so far, but she’d seen enough to be very, very scared. She couldn’t remember how she’d seen the spell. She couldn’t remember if she did the spell. She couldn’t think of why she would even look at or do such a spell in the first place. Not only would it require some serious fire power, she didn’t even think she could’ve pulled it off. What could she even do? Who was she? What was she?

Before she could get too existential, her thoughts on her own existence were crashed by the growling of a rapidly approaching angry as hell newborn vampire.

"Chuck, just stop," she said. "Stop right there."

"Just tell me what you know!"

"That's the thing," she said. "Even I don't know what I know."

That stopped him in his tracks for just a second. Vanessa took that time to do the only thing she could do, scream.

________________________________________

“You really think anyone’s going to believe someone cast a spell on you to make you forget?” Phil yelled in his kitchen a few hours later.

“It’s the truth!” Vanessa yelled back. “You’re just mad I cast a spell on you to get Chuck out of the house!”

“Of course I’m mad about that!” Phil said. “But I’m more upset we had to corral Chuck into the storage room to keep him from killing us because you told him you think you might have something to do with his turning. Maybe.”

As they continued to bicker back and forth, Max stood back and watched.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, he yelled, “Hey, cut it out!”

The pair mumbled a few more insults back and forth before quieting down.

Max said, “If we were all thinking clearly, we would all agree it’s highly unlikely Vanessa actually cast the spell, if there even is a spell. Until Chuck showed up, none of us thought a vampire like him could even exist. Whoever did it has to have tons more training and experience than Nessa. And they’re also probably completely insane.”

"Damn it, you have a point," Phil said with a sigh. "But if she can’t remember much of anything, how are ever going to begin to figure this out?”

“I have no idea,” Max answered.

“I know a spell,” Vanessa said. “And it shouldn’t even be that hard if you help me Max.”

“Excuse me?”

“Something is keeping my mind from accessing all but the smallest bits of the spell, but that block isn’t on your mind,” she said. “If I can filter the thoughts through you, maybe we can make some sense of it all.”

“Why me and not Phil?” Max asked.

“Phil’s undead; it won’t work with him.”

With a sigh Max said, “Fine, what do I have to do?”

“Just close your eyes and concentrate.”

Not long after, Max and Vanessa sat at the dining room table. In front of them on the table sat photos from the words Chuck scribbled on the basement walls and a pad of paper.

Vanessa said, “Remember, concentrate on the words,” before muttering a short Latin incantation.

At first nothing happened. But after a few moments of waiting, Max began furiously scribbling on the paper. He went through five different sheets before stopping.

“Whoa,” Phil said. “What is that?”

“That’s a very old language,” Vanessa answered. “Maybe it’s the spell.”

“Someone probably hired you to translate it,” Max said. “I'm going to need a list of everyone you've ever translated a spell for Nessa."

She nodded and said, “I’m also going to get to work translating all this.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Max said. “Now if there aren’t any more catastrophes, I’m going home to get some sleep.”

“What should I do with Chuck?” Phil asked.

“Let him cool off in the storage room for a bit,” Max said with a shrug.

“I can stay with him,” Vanessa offered.

“I think you’ve done enough,” Phil said.

“Let’s just go Vanessa,” Max said. “I think everyone needs to cool down.”

“If you need the incantation to unlock the door, just call!” she shouted as Max led her out of the house.

 She then said, “So I’ll e-mail you that list as soon as you get home.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Max said without even turning around.

She asked “, Are you mad at me too?”

“I don’t know how I feel about you right now,” he answered.

“I got played Max!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“You never mean for the half the shit you do to happen!” he yelled. “But somehow chaos and mayhem just follow you around!”

“This wasn’t my fault!”

“You didn’t have to tell him Nessa! Chuck could’ve killed you!”

“He didn’t,” Vanessa said. “I’m fine.”

“But…never mind,” he said with a sigh. “Just think before you speak okay?”

Vanessa nodded.

He turned around to get into his car.

“Love you too,” Vanessa called after him before getting into her own car and driving off.

________________________________________

A few days later, Delia stood in Simone’s kitchen trying to talk to her. But as she mixed herself the umpteenth drink of the day at the bar, she couldn’t even pretend to listen. She didn’t care that every hour Delia tried to reason with her it cost her father three hundred dollars. She didn’t even seem too concerned about those pesky murder charges. All she cared about was Vodka Tonics. Well, mostly just the vodka.

“Simone!” Delia finally yelled.

“What? I’m listening,” Simone said.

“Really?” Delia asked. “What was I saying?”

“Something about rehab,” Simone answered with a shrug. “I told you, I hated it there.”

“You left after two days.”

“It only took that long for me to figure out what tyrants everyone there was,” she said. “They wouldn’t even let me have hair extensions.”

“You don’t have hair extensions.”

“I was thinking about getting some.”

Delia sighed and said, “Whatever the reason, you’re back now, and I think it would be best if you kept a low profile for the time being.”

“I can totally do that,” Simone said with a nod. “Does inviting people over here count as keeping a low profile?”

“No, no it doesn’t.”

“You’re no fun!”

“I’m a lawyer, it’s in the job description,” Delia said. “Speaking of, I have to get back to the office. I’ll call you when it’s time for the first hearing.”

 “Mm hmm,” she said as she guzzled her drink.

As she walked out the door, Delia mumbled to herself, “I do not get paid enough for this shit.”

________________________________________

Meanwhile, Phil tried to communicate with Max over the phone.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. “What do you mean you have no clothes?”

“I mean I have no clothes Phil!” Max exclaimed.

“Maybe it’s because I’m up during the day way too often these days, but I’m not following you,” he said.

“I didn’t tell you I’m going on a date tonight?”

“No, you didn’t tell me! You have a date?!”

“Maybe it got lost in all the Chuck drama. I've been spending all my free time going through that list Nessa gave me. How is Chuck by the way?"

“He’s still in the bathroom, but who cares,” Phil answered. “Tell me more about this date.”

“He’s still in the bathroom!”

“I unlocked the door but he won’t come out,” he said. “I can’t make him come out.”

“Yeah, I guess you can’t.”

“Tell me about your date!” Phil exclaimed. “Did you ask her out? Did she ask you out? Who’s the girl? Where are you going? Details please.”

“I asked her out quite awkwardly, her name’s Delia, and sushi.”

“Is she pretty?” Phil asked, purposely accentuating what was left of his French accent. “Do you love her?”

“If you don’t cut it out, I am ending this phone call,” Max said. “All I need is clothes advice.”

“I want to know all about it because I’m happy for you,” he said. “Now spill.”

“She’s beautiful and of course I like her or I wouldn’t have asked her out,” he explained. “She’s really cool.”

“’She’s really cool’?” Phil repeated. “Oh, you do love her.”

“Phil, clothes.”

“Wear a blazer, but not with a tie,” Phil said. “Try a t-shirt."

“Thank you.”

“Now, when do you think the wedding will be?” Phil asked. “I’m thinking fall. At night of course so I can be your best man.”

“I’m hanging up Phil.”

He did manage to yell into the phone, “You better kiss her!” before Max ended the call.

________________________________________

“Maybe I should check on him,” Phil pondered out loud.

“Don’t even think about it!” Chuck yelled at him from the basement.

“Fine, I won’t!” Phil yelled back.

In the basement Chuck sat on the floor of the storage room. He looked even paler than usual and large bags had formed under his eyes. At his feet were all the bags full of O negative blood slipped under the door by Phil over the past few days. It’s not that Chuck didn’t want to drink them. Each day he sat on that floor doing absolutely nothing the blood became even harder to resist.

The first day he was just hungry. The second day the pangs started. The third day he was so tired he could barely move. The fourth day he couldn’t even remember all that clearly, as he went in and out of consciousness. Now on the fifth day, he wanted to die…again. But he resisted because he was trying to make a point. He was on a hunger strike. No one raised him from the dead without his permission. No one.

He did notice at some point that a hunger strike didn’t really make sense as a statement if no one knew who were on a hunger strike. But he was too delirious by that fifth day to do or say much besides occasionally shout obscenities at Phil. So he sat there hoping, praying that someone would notice him.

Suddenly the bathroom door swung open.

“What the hell are you doing?”

________________________________________

A few hours later Ray shoveled carbonara into his mouth in Delia’s kitchen.

He shouted, “Thanks for dinner!”

“You were supposed to take it to your apartment!” she yelled back from the bathroom.

“Now why would I go all the way downstairs?” he asked. “All that time wasted when I could’ve been eating.”

She rolled her eyes, and even though Ray couldn’t see her, he knew her well enough to say, “Don’t roll your eyes at me!”

“Stop saying stupid stuff!”

“You know I can’t promise that,” he said. “But I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

“I don’t like the way you said that,” Delia commented.

“Well, we do need to talk about this date you’re going on with my buddy Max,” Ray said.

“I don’t think you two are buddies,” she said.

“Uh, yes we are,” he said. “And I would like things to stay that way, so make sure this date goes very well. Don’t talk about lawyer-y things. That’s not sexy.”

“Ray, I do not ever want you to give me advice on sexiness ever again.”

“Believe me, I don’t want to either, but I know from experience that when people break up, it can create a divide amongst their friends,” he said. “I’m doing what I gotta do here.”

“Seriously, ask Max if you two are friends,” Delia said. “I don’t think you’re going to like the answer.”

“We’re friends okay!” Ray snapped. “Just try not to ruin this date, for me.”

“I don’t know if I’m more appalled that you’re so self-centered or that you think I’m completely romantically inept,” she said.

“You should be appalled that you are completely romantically inept.”

“Excuse me?” Delia asked, stepping out of the bathroom to face him.

“You’ve only had one serious boyfriend, and this is your first date in a year,” he said. “Let me use some of your lawyer speak and say, the defense rests.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m inept, it means I’m choosy,” she said.

“Sounds like something an inept person would say.”

“No Ray.”

“No what?”

“I am not having this discussion with you,” she said. “From now on, stay out of my love life.”

But as soon as she stomped back into the bathroom, all her feisty resolve melted away.

She was already nervous about going on a date after such a long time, it didn’t help having Ray throw her very short and marred dating life in her face. She liked to say she was too busy for dating, and that wasn’t a lie. But it was also an excuse. Relationships were scary; even before Chuck she thought so. They require depending on another person, even when you all you know about them is how much you like them. And the only thing worse than the fear of getting hurt is actually getting hurt.  

“I hate you Chuck,” she mumbled. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

________________________________________

A few hours later, Max looked at his wrist as he waited outside the sushi restaurant in his Phil approved outfit. He then realized he was not wearing a watch.

“Where is she?” he wondered out loud.

Not that he knew how long he’d been waiting, but it left like an eternity at that moment.

When his cell phone rang and he saw Delia’s name on the display, his face lit up.

“Hey!” he said a bit too loudly. “Where are you?”

“At the police station,” she answered. “Work.”

“So I’m assuming that means the date’s not going to happen,” he said.

“No, I don’t think so,” Delia said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “We can reschedule.”

They exchanged a few pleasantries before ending the call.

With a sigh, Max shuffled off towards home Charlie Brown style.

________________________________________

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Simone asked at the police station.

“I don’t know, maybe because you choked a hair dresser when you’re already charged with murdering your boyfriend!” Delia snapped.

“I didn’t do it!” Simone yelled. “Besides, she was going through my purse! If I did choke her, I think I was well within my rights.”

“You know how they say two wrongs don’t make a right?” Delia asked. “It’s not just a saying!”

“Stop yelling at me!”

“I’m sorry, but you do realize every time you get arrested you make my job much more difficult?”

“But I didn’t do anything,” Simone whined. “Things just keep happening when I’m around.”

“Maybe they would stop happening if you went back to rehab and took it seriously this time,” Delia suggested.

“I didn’t take anything today,” she said.

“But you had three drinks during the one hour I was with you today,” she said.

“So what if I did?” Simone asked. “I’m stressed and I wanted to…I don’t know…be less stressed.”

Delia said, “Why don’t you let me take some of that stress? It’s kind of my job.”

Simone nodded and asked, “Can you start by taking me home?”

She nodded and said, “Let me see what I can do.”

As she walked away Simone called out, “Delia?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like my hair?”

Delia nodded before she walked off.

________________________________________

Around midnight, Max arrived at work. All he had to look forward to until or if something went bump in the night was a big stack of paperwork. But before he could sit down at his desk, a beep from his cell phone indicated he received a text message.

DELIA: Sorry again about our date. :( Are you at work?

Max typed a few different texts before sending one off.

MAX: Yeah.

Delia smiled when she received the message. She quickly sent one right back.

DELIA: Are you busy?

MAX: No why?

DELIA: I had an idea. You can’t laugh when you read it.

MAX: I promise I won’t. What is it?

DELIA: Let’s have a text date.

MAX: lol

DELIA: You promised!

MAX: All right, all right. How is this going to work?

After he got her next text, Max walked into the kitchenette got himself a cup of coffee.

When he sat down in the station’s kitchenette, he sent her another text message, complete with a photo of his snack.

 MAX: Coffee!

DELIA: Reheated Carbonara!

For the next fifteen minutes they sent each other texts back and forth filled with the kind of getting to know you small talk typical of any first date. They asked each other their favorite colors; Max liked black, Delia red. They discovered they were both twenty-seven years old and were both born in the same California town they currently lived in. But while Delia lived her entire life in the same town except for her college years, Max moved away as a child and only came back a few years prior. They already knew they both loved Angst Rockets, so they sent quite a few texts back and forth debating the merits of different songs and detailing their favorite lyrics. As they delved into a discussion about their favorite local coffee shops, Max got a phone call.

MAX: Duty calls.

DELIA: All right detective. I’ll see you later.

MAX: We’ll have to do this again another time, but you know, in person.

DELIA:  Definitely.

Max: Talk to you later. :)

With a smile on his face, Max got up to take that phone call.

________________________________________

Back at Phil’s house, Phil paced in front of the storage room door. He didn’t want to force Chuck to come out, even though it would be quite easy for him to do, but it had been so long he was starting to care less about what Chuck wanted. Almost a week was far too long to be throwing a temper tantrum. Of course Chuck had every reason to be upset, even Phil was upset. But there was no way he could get over it and move on by holing himself up in a room. Whether he liked it or not, he was a vampire now and there was nothing he could do about it. Well, he could do something about it, but he wouldn’t do something that drastic…would he?

“Chuck, I know you hear me!” Phil called out. “Stop playing games and come out!”

No response, not even the rambling cursing he’d come accustomed to over the past few days.

“All right, that’s it,” he said. “I’m coming in there if you don’t say anything!”

Still nothing.

“I’m coming in,” he said before opening the door.

He found Chuck passed out on the floor, a collection of blood bags at his feet.

Phil loudly swore in a mixture of French and English before tearing open one of the bags and poured it in Chuck’s mouth.

“You better open your eyes or I will stake you myself!” Phil yelled. “Come on Chuck!”

With the first bag empty, Phil opened another bag of blood and poured it into Chuck’s mouth. Finally Chuck moved, struggling to shallow the blood in his mouth.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Phil yelled.

He continued to yell for a very long time, but Chuck couldn’t make out much of what he said. He caught some colorful profanity, many uses of the words “idiot” and what sounded like lyrics from a Rolling Stones song, but not much else.

“Say something!” Phil shouted.

Chuck only managed to say one word, “Delia.”