Post by Avaerilon on Aug 31, 2016 15:34:05 GMT
Here's a short story I wrote for a creative writing module I took in 2015 at my previous university. Every week for the seminar we needed to write at least 700 words on a topic- this one was naturally something supernatural. It was going to be published in a departmental magazine at my current uni, until the organisation ran into funding issues. Anyway, here's the story for you to enjoy!- Avaerilon
My Name is Jason
Jason got out of the taxi, shivered, and handed the man his money, wrapping his coat around himself tightly and glaring at the building in front of him. Of all the places this bloody meeting could have taken place at, they’d had to go and pick the Holiday Inn. Was the Best Western overbooked or something? Its clinical bleached concrete and peeling paint reminded him of old people, and he could just imagine it being full of shambling grannies and someone’s granddad telling very loud, repetitive war stories. Eurgh. He adjusted his sunglasses and moped across the road, muttering under his breath.
He went to the front desk, where he was greeted by an overly-cheery failed actress, who said it was a lovely sunny day they were having, and then asked him his name and if he had a reservation. Yeah, in a thousand years, maybe.
“Jason Syrlwyn, I’m actually here for the… the HA meeting.”
The woman nodded, still smiling like she was in a toothpaste advert, and checked her computer.
“Ah yes, love, you’re the 12th member, yes. If you want to go down that corridor through those double doors and follow the signs round to the right, you’ll come to another pair of doors, and that’s where your meeting is, all right?”
She smiled sunnily at him and he grumbled a ‘thank you,’ slouching off lazily towards the doors, pushing them open and going through into the clinical little corridor. Bloody mum, sending him to this meeting even though he’d told her time and again he was fine. He nearly bumped into a member of staff chatting away about early August bookings on his way down the corridor, but didn’t meet anyone else there; well, who wanted to hang around a place like this anyway? He approached the last double doors, beyond which the meeting was about to take place, sighed, and tried to clear his mind before he went in.
***
“… and that’s why I’m here today, I guess.”
“Well thank you Philippa for sharing, it’s always good to hear from new members…”
“Thanks, Philippa.” Came the monotonous response from the assembled people.
“… and I just want to say again how lovely it is to see you all here so bright and earl- oh yes, here comes member number twelve. Hello young man!”
Oh no. Jason sagged. The little man leading the meeting was dressed like a primary school teacher with his little pink bow tie and colourful jumper, and already his camp, oh-so-supportive voice was getting on his nerves. It was going to be a long 30 minutes. He wandered over to the empty fold-away chair and plonked himself down, pulling his black coat tightly around him.
“Perfect timing, pal, perfect timing! We’d just done Philippa here, m’kay, who’s just told us about her personal experiences at university and how she had to pull out of her course, m’kay. Hmm, real shame, love, real shame, you had your teeth stuck-into it and all,” the little man said, patting her knee supportively, “and you were so enjoying art history as well, weren’t you?”
“-” She began.
“But now I think it’s time to hear from our new friend… Jason, is it?”
“-”
“Yeah, lovely! Jason, who is… 21 and here today to tell us about his experiences. Well, Jason, hello, my name’s Maurice and I’m here to be your pal, ok buddy, m’kay?”
Oh God, he was actually going to try and shake his hand. Jason tried not to roll his eyes and limply shook Maurice’s hand, trying not to get his arm dislocated in the process of having it shaken by the world’s most enthusiastic man.
“All right now, pal, Jason, buddy, why don’t you go ahead and tell us about yourself, m’kay?”
Jason sighed, rubbed his eyes, and began in a bored, monotonous voice.
“Hello, my name’s Jason and I’m a haemoholic.”
“Hello Jason,” came the reply from the group. It was so bloody predictable.
“Well done, pal, well done, m’kay, you’ve taken the first, big, big step into rehabilitation. You’re super, a star, ok, buddy?”
“Er, I’m 21 and I study archaeology-”
“Oooh, we’ve got ourselves the next Indiana Jones here, everyone!” Maurice said, laughing and slapping his leg. “Oh, do go on, sorry pal, m’kay, tell us a wee bit more.”
“I’m actually studying it because, well just because I like it. I’m not planning to be an archaeologist or anything- I think I want to be a writer.”
Maurice nodded his head, trying to look as understanding as possible. Jason could hardly concentrate; it looked like the man’s head was about to fly off at any moment and hit him square in the face. He shuddered.
“Well… er… I was on a trip to Romania to look at a Mithraic temple, and I was just sitting in a pub with some friends-”
“-and someone dared you to go into that temple and open something, didn’t they? They dared you to do and, poor you, your poor brain said ‘I’m a bloke and now I’ve got to do this.’ Well poor you, buddy, poor you.”
Jason resisted the urge to tear the little man’s lips off.
“No, actually, Morris,” he said, smirking to himself, “for one thing there are no tombs in Mithraeae. I decided to go up and get another drink, when I saw this girl-”
“And you were a bit tipsy, weren’t you, m’kay, and you decided to chat her up, maybe take a shot at kissing her, poor man that you are, and then her big old boyfriend comes up to you, bares his teeth and-”
“Ugh, no, what the hell? Stop trying to turn me into the aggressor here, what the hell is wrong with you?”
Maurice nodded.
“Mm-mm, anger, lot of rage building up there, I can see, yeah, you need our help. Go on, you said you felt like she was asking for it, attacking you emotionally, m’kay, and-”
“Hey, Mitch, what is this, some sort of rad fem circle jerk?”
Maurice looked taken aback for a second, and then narrowed his eyes.
“It’s Maurice, m’kay,” he said, not without some malice.
“Sorry, Maurie, the air con’s a little loud in here,” he replied, smiling. He caught a suppressed snicker from Philippa, next to him and saw a couple of the others nudging each other. He stretched in his chair. He was going to enjoy this.
“Anyway, as I was saying, trying to convey my personal experiences, I saw this girl, really pretty, coal-black hair, and she smiled at me and said hello. I said hello back, we talked- I can speak a bit of Romanian, so it wasn’t like we couldn’t understand each other- and I said goodnight to my friends, and went home with her. To cut a long story short, we finished a bottle of plum brandy and went to bed, and she says she likes things to be a bit wild, so I think, ok, she’s into it being a bit kinky, but it was a little more than that.”
“Biter?” Philippa said, knowingly.
“Yeah, she was a biter. It started off her nibbling on my arms, then going up my leg, all ticklish, and I’m thinking ok, this is fun, when suddenly she holds me down with one hand, and I can’t move at all- it was like there was a 2-tonne weight on my chest. Then she opens her mouth really, really wide-”
At this point, everyone else in the room was nodding; they’d had the same damn thing happen to them.
“- and then her teeth become really long. Like, really long. She smiles at me, and I’m freaking out, and telling her I’m not comfortable with this, and she says to me, in English: ‘You think this is uncomfortable for you? Just try drinking the blood of your best friend. No wait, that was fun.’ She laughs, gets my neck, and I pass out. Next morning I wake up in the street, two holes in my neck, and suddenly not a fan of garlic.”
Jason let out a deep sigh of relief. He’d managed to do it. He’d actually managed to tell someone, besides his own family, about the whole damn thing. The other group members were smiling at him, encouragingly. He felt good.
“Er… well, m’kay, pal, that was… good, yes, very… good. M’kay. Well, I let’s give Jason a big round of applause for sharing, m’kay?”
The other members began clapping, some of them standing up.
“And now?” Maurice said, holding up his hand, waving a pen somewhat menacingly.
“Thanks, Jason.”
“Good, we’re learning, aren’t we. Now, I have some activaties for you to do, m’kay. Take one of these,” Maurice said, passing brightly-coloured sheets of paper along, “and write down what it means to you to be a haemoholic. Now, this is anonymous, so don’t write down your names, m’kay guys, and remember to share. Really share, m’kay?”
Jason stared at the bright red piece of paper in his hands, frowned, and said to Maurice: “You’re not a haemoholic, are you, Maurie?”
Maurice went as white as the walls of the room.
“N-no, I’m not, but I’m a sympathetic ear, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it pal?”
“I’m just asking, because I want to know if you know what it means to be one of us.”
“Oh, I know enough, buddy, m’kay.”
“Really?”
“Yes!” Yelled Maurice, exasperatedly, throwing the spare papers into the air.
“Typical young vamp, always slouching all emotional and depressed into a room, looking like they’re the world’s biggest victim, and then they go all ape on you for just trying to be their friend. Well, that kind of attitude won’t fly here, mister, m’kay!”
The room went dead silent.
“Vamp?” Philippa said, slowly.
Maurice began to sweat.
“I… I would never say the v-word, don’t be silly, love.”
“I heard you say it, mate,” said one of the men, standing up slowly.
“Me too,” said a stone-faced lady, putting away her knitting.
“Vamp is a bad word, Maurie,” said Jason, “that’s what haemophobics say. You think it’s bad enough kids thrusting garlic in your face for laughs or your friends shunning you like you have some kind of infectious disease they can get by standing near you? Those are pretty rough, but vamp really takes the cake.”
***
“Oh, hi love, how was the meeting?” his mother asked as Jason sauntered into the living room.
“Great, mum, really great. Met a lot of interesting people, made some new friends. It felt really good, actually.”
“Good. I’m really proud of you, Jason, really proud. It’s a brave thing you’re doing. Oh, I nearly forgot, are you happy to have chicken tonight, or do you fancy something else?”
“Eh, I might just have something light for supper, mum. I caught a bite to eat with some friends earlier.”
My Name is Jason
Jason got out of the taxi, shivered, and handed the man his money, wrapping his coat around himself tightly and glaring at the building in front of him. Of all the places this bloody meeting could have taken place at, they’d had to go and pick the Holiday Inn. Was the Best Western overbooked or something? Its clinical bleached concrete and peeling paint reminded him of old people, and he could just imagine it being full of shambling grannies and someone’s granddad telling very loud, repetitive war stories. Eurgh. He adjusted his sunglasses and moped across the road, muttering under his breath.
He went to the front desk, where he was greeted by an overly-cheery failed actress, who said it was a lovely sunny day they were having, and then asked him his name and if he had a reservation. Yeah, in a thousand years, maybe.
“Jason Syrlwyn, I’m actually here for the… the HA meeting.”
The woman nodded, still smiling like she was in a toothpaste advert, and checked her computer.
“Ah yes, love, you’re the 12th member, yes. If you want to go down that corridor through those double doors and follow the signs round to the right, you’ll come to another pair of doors, and that’s where your meeting is, all right?”
She smiled sunnily at him and he grumbled a ‘thank you,’ slouching off lazily towards the doors, pushing them open and going through into the clinical little corridor. Bloody mum, sending him to this meeting even though he’d told her time and again he was fine. He nearly bumped into a member of staff chatting away about early August bookings on his way down the corridor, but didn’t meet anyone else there; well, who wanted to hang around a place like this anyway? He approached the last double doors, beyond which the meeting was about to take place, sighed, and tried to clear his mind before he went in.
***
“… and that’s why I’m here today, I guess.”
“Well thank you Philippa for sharing, it’s always good to hear from new members…”
“Thanks, Philippa.” Came the monotonous response from the assembled people.
“… and I just want to say again how lovely it is to see you all here so bright and earl- oh yes, here comes member number twelve. Hello young man!”
Oh no. Jason sagged. The little man leading the meeting was dressed like a primary school teacher with his little pink bow tie and colourful jumper, and already his camp, oh-so-supportive voice was getting on his nerves. It was going to be a long 30 minutes. He wandered over to the empty fold-away chair and plonked himself down, pulling his black coat tightly around him.
“Perfect timing, pal, perfect timing! We’d just done Philippa here, m’kay, who’s just told us about her personal experiences at university and how she had to pull out of her course, m’kay. Hmm, real shame, love, real shame, you had your teeth stuck-into it and all,” the little man said, patting her knee supportively, “and you were so enjoying art history as well, weren’t you?”
“-” She began.
“But now I think it’s time to hear from our new friend… Jason, is it?”
“-”
“Yeah, lovely! Jason, who is… 21 and here today to tell us about his experiences. Well, Jason, hello, my name’s Maurice and I’m here to be your pal, ok buddy, m’kay?”
Oh God, he was actually going to try and shake his hand. Jason tried not to roll his eyes and limply shook Maurice’s hand, trying not to get his arm dislocated in the process of having it shaken by the world’s most enthusiastic man.
“All right now, pal, Jason, buddy, why don’t you go ahead and tell us about yourself, m’kay?”
Jason sighed, rubbed his eyes, and began in a bored, monotonous voice.
“Hello, my name’s Jason and I’m a haemoholic.”
“Hello Jason,” came the reply from the group. It was so bloody predictable.
“Well done, pal, well done, m’kay, you’ve taken the first, big, big step into rehabilitation. You’re super, a star, ok, buddy?”
“Er, I’m 21 and I study archaeology-”
“Oooh, we’ve got ourselves the next Indiana Jones here, everyone!” Maurice said, laughing and slapping his leg. “Oh, do go on, sorry pal, m’kay, tell us a wee bit more.”
“I’m actually studying it because, well just because I like it. I’m not planning to be an archaeologist or anything- I think I want to be a writer.”
Maurice nodded his head, trying to look as understanding as possible. Jason could hardly concentrate; it looked like the man’s head was about to fly off at any moment and hit him square in the face. He shuddered.
“Well… er… I was on a trip to Romania to look at a Mithraic temple, and I was just sitting in a pub with some friends-”
“-and someone dared you to go into that temple and open something, didn’t they? They dared you to do and, poor you, your poor brain said ‘I’m a bloke and now I’ve got to do this.’ Well poor you, buddy, poor you.”
Jason resisted the urge to tear the little man’s lips off.
“No, actually, Morris,” he said, smirking to himself, “for one thing there are no tombs in Mithraeae. I decided to go up and get another drink, when I saw this girl-”
“And you were a bit tipsy, weren’t you, m’kay, and you decided to chat her up, maybe take a shot at kissing her, poor man that you are, and then her big old boyfriend comes up to you, bares his teeth and-”
“Ugh, no, what the hell? Stop trying to turn me into the aggressor here, what the hell is wrong with you?”
Maurice nodded.
“Mm-mm, anger, lot of rage building up there, I can see, yeah, you need our help. Go on, you said you felt like she was asking for it, attacking you emotionally, m’kay, and-”
“Hey, Mitch, what is this, some sort of rad fem circle jerk?”
Maurice looked taken aback for a second, and then narrowed his eyes.
“It’s Maurice, m’kay,” he said, not without some malice.
“Sorry, Maurie, the air con’s a little loud in here,” he replied, smiling. He caught a suppressed snicker from Philippa, next to him and saw a couple of the others nudging each other. He stretched in his chair. He was going to enjoy this.
“Anyway, as I was saying, trying to convey my personal experiences, I saw this girl, really pretty, coal-black hair, and she smiled at me and said hello. I said hello back, we talked- I can speak a bit of Romanian, so it wasn’t like we couldn’t understand each other- and I said goodnight to my friends, and went home with her. To cut a long story short, we finished a bottle of plum brandy and went to bed, and she says she likes things to be a bit wild, so I think, ok, she’s into it being a bit kinky, but it was a little more than that.”
“Biter?” Philippa said, knowingly.
“Yeah, she was a biter. It started off her nibbling on my arms, then going up my leg, all ticklish, and I’m thinking ok, this is fun, when suddenly she holds me down with one hand, and I can’t move at all- it was like there was a 2-tonne weight on my chest. Then she opens her mouth really, really wide-”
At this point, everyone else in the room was nodding; they’d had the same damn thing happen to them.
“- and then her teeth become really long. Like, really long. She smiles at me, and I’m freaking out, and telling her I’m not comfortable with this, and she says to me, in English: ‘You think this is uncomfortable for you? Just try drinking the blood of your best friend. No wait, that was fun.’ She laughs, gets my neck, and I pass out. Next morning I wake up in the street, two holes in my neck, and suddenly not a fan of garlic.”
Jason let out a deep sigh of relief. He’d managed to do it. He’d actually managed to tell someone, besides his own family, about the whole damn thing. The other group members were smiling at him, encouragingly. He felt good.
“Er… well, m’kay, pal, that was… good, yes, very… good. M’kay. Well, I let’s give Jason a big round of applause for sharing, m’kay?”
The other members began clapping, some of them standing up.
“And now?” Maurice said, holding up his hand, waving a pen somewhat menacingly.
“Thanks, Jason.”
“Good, we’re learning, aren’t we. Now, I have some activaties for you to do, m’kay. Take one of these,” Maurice said, passing brightly-coloured sheets of paper along, “and write down what it means to you to be a haemoholic. Now, this is anonymous, so don’t write down your names, m’kay guys, and remember to share. Really share, m’kay?”
Jason stared at the bright red piece of paper in his hands, frowned, and said to Maurice: “You’re not a haemoholic, are you, Maurie?”
Maurice went as white as the walls of the room.
“N-no, I’m not, but I’m a sympathetic ear, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it pal?”
“I’m just asking, because I want to know if you know what it means to be one of us.”
“Oh, I know enough, buddy, m’kay.”
“Really?”
“Yes!” Yelled Maurice, exasperatedly, throwing the spare papers into the air.
“Typical young vamp, always slouching all emotional and depressed into a room, looking like they’re the world’s biggest victim, and then they go all ape on you for just trying to be their friend. Well, that kind of attitude won’t fly here, mister, m’kay!”
The room went dead silent.
“Vamp?” Philippa said, slowly.
Maurice began to sweat.
“I… I would never say the v-word, don’t be silly, love.”
“I heard you say it, mate,” said one of the men, standing up slowly.
“Me too,” said a stone-faced lady, putting away her knitting.
“Vamp is a bad word, Maurie,” said Jason, “that’s what haemophobics say. You think it’s bad enough kids thrusting garlic in your face for laughs or your friends shunning you like you have some kind of infectious disease they can get by standing near you? Those are pretty rough, but vamp really takes the cake.”
***
“Oh, hi love, how was the meeting?” his mother asked as Jason sauntered into the living room.
“Great, mum, really great. Met a lot of interesting people, made some new friends. It felt really good, actually.”
“Good. I’m really proud of you, Jason, really proud. It’s a brave thing you’re doing. Oh, I nearly forgot, are you happy to have chicken tonight, or do you fancy something else?”
“Eh, I might just have something light for supper, mum. I caught a bite to eat with some friends earlier.”
