Chapter 48: She and He

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She

The vampire finally looked completely human.

After meeting the woman, Obie told the vampire to sit on a chair as she traced his features. His body was tall, muscular and lean like a professional baseball player. His skin was medium tan like pure, infrangible honey under beaming daylight. His facial structure was subtle and full, but carved from his cheekbones to his jaw and square chin. His nose was neither big nor small, however pointed and a little bit snub. Those blinding aqua blues and silver pupils were contoured by full, thick arched eyebrows.

At last, framing his diamond shaped face was his heavy long wavy hair.

But she changed it.

Utterly.

Amazingly.

Obie ran her fingers through the vampire's hair one more time in awe of her masterpiece.

Long black locs swirled and curled in lazy chunks against her tainted brown foot. Tiny hairs were dusted on her worn blouse as a result of sharp razors and wireless trimmers. The result of his alterations was not only something she could see, but smelled as the chemicals she used tickled the inside of her nose.

Safe to say Obie did not lose her touch.

Obie's triumphed smile dwindled into an awkward frown as she caught him eyeing her dotingly. He leaned into her fingers as much as he could. As always, she retreated and pretended to cough.

"Guess doing my parents' hair had its advantages." She hid her embarrassment and folded her arms, proudly. "I used to hate it. Dad was too cheap to get a barber. His mother was Jamaican so they prided themselves on knowing how to save money. Yet, he'd spend it on a Star Wars collectable, so I guess that didn't make sense. My mom had growing gray hairs from the time she could walk. She made me dye her hair black every two months. It was so damn boring I decided to test other colors with some doll heads. My dad and mom actually started giving me money -"

Obie stopped, realizing she was talking to a hard wall.

"Never mind." She shouldn't be excited to talk about her family's history anyway. She realized she unconsciously tried to cover up the repulsive memories of her parents by coating each memoir with sweet nothings to forget the bad. "Aren't you going to look in the mirror?"

"I look different?"

"You look like a regular person to me." She said, truthfully.

"Regular?" He said softly. "I look regular."

She gestured for him to turn around.

He hesitated.

"C'mon, look." Obie said eagerly.

The vampire deliberately rotated.

Obie beamed. "Nice, huh?"

After spending time busting her brain, Obie decisively chose to chop his hair to the middle of his cheeks. She used the automatic trimmers to create a tapered fade and shaved around his head. She was heavy handed on the space above his ears and the back of his head, giving a clean cut. After, she shaved upwards lightly, leaving some hair as she drifted towards the medium length hair on top. She balanced it out by creating equal layers with the fade below. On the other hand, Obie decided the taper cut wasn't enough.

Bravely, she bleached his hair to platinum blonde.

She wondered what did he perceive as he stared in the mirror.

Did he observe how the length of his hair shifted from long to short as he surveyed his skull from front to back. How he could easily wet his hair and have a slick back hairstyle? Or how he could continue to let rogue pieces fall upon the sides of his face? Did he noticed how the iciness in his hair brought out the iciness in his pupils and crystal-like reflections in his blues? Maybe how his tanned skin was manifested as a golden bronze against the pastiness?

"I shadowed the roots." She corrected her terminology for him to understand. "I darkened your roots, so when your hair grows out it won't look like you need to redo them."

His eyes were blank.

Obie began to feel insecure. "You don't like it?"

He looked over his shoulder. "I need second."

"You need a second." Obie uncrossed her arms and sighed. "I don't think I ever seen you this detached. You've been quiet since we got back."

He looked away.

"No comment, huh?"

No comment, indeed.

"So you're not going to tell me how you feel about your hair or answer my questions."

"I need a second."

"It passed. What's wrong with you?" Obie pulled up the chair and sat directly in front of him. "It's almost sun up. You might as well spill the beans now while we're alone."

"I don't have beans." He said in bewilderment.

"But you got information. Apparently, feelings too." She added suspiciously.

He shrugged.

"How about you ask me a question? I'll answer yours."

"Then I answer yours?"

"Yup."

"The woman who I t-talk t-to. She had a son." He bit his lip. His fangs poking out. "What's a son?"

"There's one sun in the sky. That one burns you up."

He nodded.

"But the son she's talking about is a relative. Very close. Someone of the same bloodline. When a man and woman come together, they can produce another life and become parents like mother and father. For nine months, the mother carries the life right here." She pointed to her womb. "The life they created would either be a son or daughter. Boy or girl. She pushes him out and there goes another person in the world."

"Painful." He remarked, looking down at his own private part.

"Boys can't give birth." She hurried to say. "Although it would be nice."

"...The son was p-part of her."

"Yeah."

"But she lost him."

Obie said bitterly. "He was taken from her."

"D-did you lose someone?"

"For one, my damn mind. My best friend is a possum and my companion is a vampire." She rolled her eyes.

He shook his head. "Someone. Did you lose another regular?"

She froze at the question. "Well I'm a daughter. So that means I must have a-"

"Mother and father."

"Correct. I lost them." She paused. "I have lost many things."

"You...lost..." he took a deep breath as if feeling the nerve-wracking emotions pierce through Obie and tease her shell of insanity. "Two parts of you. Mom and dad."

"Halves that created this whole." She pointed towards her chest and laughed humorlessly.

He nodded, looking away.

She sighed.

Obie was never the friend someone turned to for comfort. She hardly had any friends at all since she was homeschooled. Still, Obie begged and begged her parents to put her in school to experience her adolescent to the fullest. Eventually, pre-teen Obie called the cops and claimed she lived in a cage to show how much she wanted it. She couldn't remember which grandparent gave her the whooping of her life. But, her parents noticed how extreme she got.

They enrolled her into afterschool programs.

There, she met people. She met people who were kind. She met people who were mean. Most people didn't want to be her friend, but she found some. Even then, Obie couldn't understand why the little friends she had cried or turned to her when they needed words of encouragement. The best she could do was tell them to get over it. But...she couldn't bring herself to utter those words to the vampire.

He was a creature who didn't understand his own emotions as they arise to the surface from his unconsciousness. He had a sense of confusion, bewilderment and sadness about the loss of life.

The stranger.

The stranger's son.

Her Mom.

Her Dad.

Loved ones.

Loved ones he didn't have and the more she stared at him, the more she realized how much it troubled him.

He was falling through a spiral of the past and present; struggling as the two intermixed. Questioning everyone's past to find any relations to his own, but the truth was he couldn't.

He had no family nor a childhood to reflect on. No love.

She looked down, shamefully.

What did it matter to her?

"I'm going to grab B some crickets to eat." She murmured. "Come out when you're ready. "

Obie walked out the bathroom. The smell of rotting vampire corpses couldn't wipe the strong chemical odor she endured for the past three hours in the bathroom. She had to bleach the vampire's hair multiple times to lift the blackness, so she could apply the color. Now, every single thing smelled like bleach. Burrito smelled like bleach. The air smelled like bleach. Vampires smelled like bleach. She smelled like bleach!

She leaned on the window, feeding Burrito from her hand. "Yuck."

Burrito's tongue licked her palm, repeatedly.

"Black people don't do this. You are so lucky we're family." Obie smoothed her hair as she finished her food on the ground. "...family."

Reluctantly, Obie's eyes drifted to the bathroom, remarking the closed door with the instinctive desire to open it.

She looked out the window with a sad expression on her scarred face.

After forcing the vampire to meet a stranger, she began to wonder where her own parents were. She hadn't seen the vampire pair in days since the market incident. She definitely didn't miss their volatile company, although knowing their locations placed her mind at ease. She didn't have to worry about surprise attacks when she knew where it was coming from. However, Obie was too preoccupied with the vampire to notice they weren't hunting her down. Maybe they finally gave up on Obie. Maybe they found a new prey to stalk and hunt to entertain their survival instincts.

Then, with new eyes, Obie searched her surroundings; perceiving the world beyond the natural human perception. Every detail was blown up into giant proportions, where she saw things closer than they actually were. Usually, Obie would freak out, because her sight would magnify at random. Like she thought there was a random vampire standing directly in front of her face with baring teeth, only to find out she was looking at a monster across the street. 20/20 vision had nothing on her, especially when she combed through the distances and found that her parents weren't far away after all.

Her parents were 300 yards away, standing on the tower of the Brooklyn Bridge. Her mother was practically naked, wearing a single piece of brown underwear as her breasts hung when she crouched. Her gigantic afro had strings of chemically stretched hair hung over her face in tangled dreads. They swung back and forth, mimicking her body as she bounced into side lunges from left to right. Her white eyes fixed on her own daughter, targeting the kill. Her mouth widened in a large snarl with solid lines of white drool thinning towards the floor. Beside her mother was her father. He looked a little less ravenous, but unvaryingly fear-provoking. He was squatted with his arms shot out in front like Spiderman. His white orbs glued on Obie as well, while the scrawny neck of a malnourished woman hung from his mouth. His whole body was frozen, except for his neck that pulsed whenever he dragged a mouth full blood into his throat like air.

It wasn't rocket science as to why they stayed away.

The other vampires stayed away for the same reason.

Mister vampire and his blood inside of her.

They looked hungry, while watching her. She'd notice how confused they were when they lost their thirst for her and looked for other resources. Then, they'd stop and turn towards her again with the vital need to drink the life out of her.

Obie frowned, rubbing her shoulders.

She knew the vampire blood was making her different. Though, how different could she be for her parents to hesitate?

But at least she had parents; dead, alive or undead. Mister vampire spent his whole life in a laboratory controlled by mad scientists. The only thing that ever took care of him was pain medicine and the anesthesia in surgery.

Little did he know, they were in the same boat.

She didn't know who her parents were.

Each day she discovered a memory, which felt stolen from her. Memories of pain, death, fear, therapies, family members and...pills.

Obie was equally as lost as him.

"Mmm." She moaned as her eyesight began to dysfunction from staring too long. It was like switching the magnification of a microscope endlessly. "I got to get this in check."

Suddenly, Burrito's body was pressed against her feet. The fat possum was hissing and pacing in small circles.

"What's wrong girl?"

Another hiss occurred, but it wasn't from Burrito.

He

The vampire stared into the mirror, unsure of the person standing before him. He understood the purpose of a mirror as he did with any other object capable of reflection. Still, the vampire was baffled and found unfamiliarity in his own glass replication.

Regular Obie asked if he was willing to change. He agreed, disregarding the terms within the agreement. He honestly did not contemplate it, because regular Obie was going to touch him. She was going to run her hands through his hair, talk and stand near him. He was eager, no matter what she planned on doing.

He didn't enjoy it as much as he thought. His mind was riddled with the woman who lost her son. She was deeply distraught, abandoned, and terrified of the life she was forced to live. Everything she loved, including her son, was stolen as regular Obie explained. The woman was ripped piece by piece until she was the residue of her own tragedy.

Reading about tragedy compared to seeing it was two different dynamics. Especially, as he realized, he did not only see it with the woman, but in his own story.

Regular Obie lost her creators.

The stranger lost her creation.

Heartbreaks shown on different fronts, but resulted in similar crescendos.

And he was sad.

So he remembered.

"Dr. Darby! Dr. Darby!" the little boy ran in his plain white pajamas. He approached the two sided mirror and banged on it lightly.

"Hey, E000002." Dr. Darby's voice radiated from the speaker.

"I'm done eating. Can I come out and play now?"

"You sure can." Dr. Darby echoed. "Put on your day clothes and we'll go straight to the playroom."

He smiled brightly.

The little boy removed his night clothing and put on his day clothing. He's been in his bunker for five days straight, so he missed walking in the hallways, looking at the other children and having freedom.

"I'm ready!" The little boy rocked on his heels with his hands behind his back, while waiting on the door to open. As soon as Dr. Darby and the nurse walked through the door, the little boy impatiently stretched his hands forward and lifted his head up. Before they could ask him, the little boy positioned his neck and hands for the electrical bondages. He understood the routine after the millionth time the doctors had to reinforce it. He just wanted to hurry the procedure to finally escape his small cubical.

"Are we done?" He asked as the nurse locked the collar on his neck.

"You know the procedure, young man."

He pouted.

Dr. Darby smiled gently towards the nurse. "He's heard it plenty of times. I'm sure he understands."

Nurse Jackie fixed the hem of his sleeves and pants. "I'm not breaking the policies."

She sighed.

"Plus, they are for his own good." The nurse said grimly. "I don't want him forgetting what to do or else-"

"Something bad will happen to me." He said in a small voice.

"Yes." Nurse Jackie cleared her throat and looked away before the little boy could observe her eyes.

"But nothing will." Dr. Darby laid a hand on his thin shoulder, which warmed him deeply. "Doesn't hurt to know the rules again, right?"

"I suppose so."

"Good." Dr. Darby stepped back to allow the nurse to reassess the rules of enforcement.

Nurse Jackie began. "We are going to permit you to walk throughout the halls, engage in the playground, and access certain areas of the floor. To know if you have access, place your bracelet under the scan machine beside the door. If it's green, be free to enter. If it's red, you cannot enter. If it's yellow, knock and ask permission to go in. Now, I'm going to discuss what we expect of your behavior. Do not take off your restraints. Do not attempt to go into restricted areas. Do not purposely cause destruction to the materials given. Do not engage with other children unless permitted to. Do not resort to any violence against workers, animals and patients. If these rules are not followed, the devices will be triggered and it will be painful. If these resources do not work, you will be put down."

The little boy's exhilaration died as the nurse spoke her callous, strong words. At first, he didn't want to heed their policies, because he was eager to escape. He realized his eagerness was misplaced. He essentially desired to avoid going through the regulations, because they were scary and made him not want to go out. Also, there were times when the little boy neglected the rules and endured the consequences. Sometimes he wouldn't mean it. He was stronger than he was used to, therefore it wasn't his fault if he accidently bruised the nurse after holding her hand. The nurse agreed he wasn't at fault either. But there were other workers who didn't like him. They looked at him like a monster, so they quickly informed Dr. Brock. Then, if he didn't get his punishment at the moment of his crime, Dr. Brock would stop by his cubical, force him to wear his restraints and trigger the device.

"Do you understand?" Nurse Jackie asked him.

"Yes, Nurse Jackie." He murmured.

"You'll be fine." Dr. Darby reassured. "You're going to have fun today."

"You will." Nurse Jackie nodded her head, despite her professional manner. "Don't worry. I'll be there."

He sighed in relief.

Nurse Jackie was a woman who intended on doing her duties as according to the polices. She tried her best to keep a neutral façade beneath her circular glasses and blue scrubs, but she was nice to him. Occasionally, she would sneak candy in his pocket and they'd sit in a room to watch television. He wasn't allowed to have candy or television, because Dr. Brock believed the declining of his intellect will worsen with filmed entertainment. Dr. Darby agreed and wanted to limit the amount, but apparently, Dr. Moore supported Dr. Brock's theory and disbanded the act totally.

He liked Nurse Jackie and Dr. Darby.

The other nurses flinched when coming near him. Or they would purposely scream to get him in trouble.

"Okay. I will." He grabbed Nurse Jackie's hand.

"Someone's been practicing." The nurse studied his grip.

"When I eat the rats, I practiced on holding them first." He nodded proudly. "They don't die."

Dr. Darby walked in step with the two. "How did it taste this time?"

"I didn't throw up." He looked up at the doctor. "But it didn't taste so good."

"That's an improvement." She nodded. "Want to know why?"

He nodded, curiously.

"Last time we fed you, you heaved 30 minutes later. Today, we waited an hour and half before letting you out. You didn't throw up." She approved. "We found something for you to consume. It doesn't taste good, but it's

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