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AEEM reports, #2
Hello, again, fang fan! It’s been too long since I’ve favored you with my stunning insights and revelations. My excuses are:
1) time can very easily get away from us, being who we are, and2) speaking personally, I am easily distracted. As people who know me are always saying.
Big News! The Publisher (“Mr. Croatoan”) and S.V. Florian have decided that I can reveal my true, original given name.Amelia.
So there.
Three topics this time:
“Renfields.” This term in its various forms comes from Stoker’s character in Dracula, R.M. Renfield. A psychiatric patient of Dr. Seward, Renfield is in thrall to Dracula, though he’s not completely controllable since he’s as crazy as a pair of waltzing mice — which he would probably eat if given the chance! Also, he experiences moments of sanity and morality, messing up Dracula’s wicked plan.
Now this isn’t going to make you think more highly of us, but among ourselves we often refer to our breathing helpers as “renfields” — “rennies” or “rens” for short. It’s supposed to be ironic and jokey, but, yeah, it is impolite. The proper term is supposed to be “familiar.”
Mainly, rennies are our friends, but the plain word “friend” isn’t specific enough. The true renfield has come to an explicit agreement with us, to do business with us or to help us in other ways, and to keep the Secret always. In return, we make certain promises to him involving health and wealth. (We don’t promise to turn him, though.)
Rens include trusted employees of our businesses, security consultants, forgers (very important), barbers and hairdressers, blood-bank workers, interior decorators, building contractors ... and on and on. We make a distinction between people who work for us and people who work with us, though — so the top cops, politicians, lawyers, bankers, and (ahem ...) mobsters who know the score and have agreements with us aren’t really renfields so much as allies, or partners.
Clear as blood, right?
The metro area where I live has a population of almost 9 million, and our chapter has 77 vampires registered. As a rule of thumb, we usually multiply by 20 to estimate the number of rennies and allies. That would mean that more than 1,500 people in the metro know about us or at least have a pretty good idea. One out of every 6,000 residents, roughly. That is a lot, and it does involve risk, but on the other hand our connections with important, powerful breathers are meant to protect us. It can be tricky.
“Human.” It seems that most fans of things vampiric think we are not. Human, that is. But you should know that respectable “cousins,” as we informally refer to ourselves, consider it politically incorrect to distinguish “humans” from “vampires.” We’re human, too! we insist. OK, we do have some rennie scientists who describe us as “Homo sanguinarius” (instead of Homo sapiens), but:
1) I’ve seen Mao described as that because of his incredible murder toll, so, forget it; andInstead of “humans,” we usually describe non-vampire people as “breathers” or “breathing people.” Yeah, we breathe, too, in order to speak (everyone needs air to talk) or to keep up our masquerade — but we don’t have to.2) I’m as “sapiens” as anyone! (Some would disagree. [As I keep pointing out, I’m SO FUNNY!])
Now there is a group of non-respectable vamps who deny that they’re human. Namely, the Remusites — members of the Order of Supremacy, founded almost two thousand years ago by Remus Ando (who unfortunately is still very much alive and in charge). They consider themselves to be a separate super-species for whom humans are merely cattle.
Remusites are evil. Enough said for now.
Vamps as crime victims. We are city people. Understandably so, since a big city is an ocean of hot blood, right? And beyond the red factor, we’re just more sociable than you might expect. Even Dracula got bored hanging out in an isolated cobwebby castle with only three crazy women for company. * But in addition to all the groovy stuff that urban life offers you also tend to get street crime, burglaries, etc.
Since we fear not, we go wherever the hell we want in our cities, and since we prefer the night, it’s usually after dark that we’re out doing our thing. Consequently, we’re sometimes targeted by random bad guys who don’t know what they’re getting into. After all, we don’t march around with fangs extended, snarling and swirling a black cape with a scarlet lining. I’m a very good-looking (<— gotta say it) little blonde with a killer bod (<— ditto), and I weigh 112 pounds. And maybe I dress immodestly sometimes (a matter of opinion). So I’ve been attacked a few times, or, rather, someone has attempted to attack me. We can almost always see it coming. It’s hard for breathers to hide from us and then successfully pounce. (We tend to provide whatever pouncing is required.)
Sometimes if we’re feeling generous or just don’t want the bother, we’ll blast out some hard mesmerism to make the potential felon think twice, or maybe stagger and throw up. Other times, the would-be assailant doesn’t fare as well. But usually if there is physical contact we just put him on the pavement, out cold. You can’t leave dead bodies strewn about in public! Or even living bodies that have been drained of a pint or two, especially if you’ve made the classic fang marks.
At least you shouldn’t litter public spaces with bodies. Someone in my city — I’m not going to say who — destroyed a roving gang of rapists in a park a few years ago, killing two and maiming three others. And that someone then just walked away. One of the dead guys had been thrown into a tree and was sort of embedded in it. Well, the cops who were in the know struggled to cover that one up, make it digestible by the media, and the someone who was responsible sincerely regretted causing all the fuss and bother. But sometimes a gal, or a guy, just slips into what we call the Red Haze ...
... Which I may deal with in a future installment. My main point is, you’ve got to be careful and not make a mess in public! God forbid you should get ordinary breathing people suspecting that Vampires Walk Among Us.
It’s different when the bad-guy encounter occurs in a private space — during a home invasion or burglary. When we don’t fear discovery we are free to enforce the Law more strictly.
We’re all affluent enough to buy top-end security systems, but some cousins who like to play vampire games turn their system off when they’re home and awake. Back in the 1970s, an old friend of mine had a townhouse in Greenwich Village, and her neighborhood started to be hit by an aggressive gang of nighttime burglars — home-invaders, actually. Well, my fun-loving friend decided to stay home at night for a while, keeping her security system off. As well as all her lights. (We don’t really need much in the way of light.) She even kept her doors unlocked. It took a couple of weeks — putting a big dent in my friend’s social life — but finally the home-invaders came a-creepin’.
As Gomer Pyle might say, Soopraahz, soopraahz, soopraahz!
Long story short, my friend knocked her two visitors down, drank from them, invited a couple friends over for more drinks, and finally dispatched the interlopers by snapping their necks. It was both fun and perfectly Lawful! An ideal combination.
Everything had happened safely indoors, and specialists were called to discreetly remove the corpses. Body-removers are a very useful type of rennie I didn’t mention, and you can find them in every city where there’s one of our chapters. (For their above-ground business they usually run a funeral home, operate a commercial incinerator, or sell carpeting.) Body-removal is such an enormous pain if you have to do it yourself. Bor-ring!
This is getting long, so I’d better put a stake in it. One last point: Don’t ever try to pull a gun on a vampire. We really dislike that. You’ll lose the gun, and maybe your hand along with it.
Later, breathing friend!
Your toothsome friend,
Amelia. Or Amy. Either one, really.
June 5, 2022
Like all other installments in this series, this is a work of fiction, based on characters in the novel Chaos and Old Night.
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