My name is Prudence Moody. I was born on Halloween during a séance. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I’ve had a sixth sense since I was a little girl. I often know what’s going to happen before it does. I read other people quickly and thoroughly. Sometimes I can “hear” people’s unsaid thoughts. I have the ability to see auras, which can help me determine whether someone has good or bad energies. I am an empath and often feel other people’s pain. I have an uncanny ability to detect emotional vampires, who sometimes overwhelm me with their negativity. I avoid these people as best I can. 

My husband is Penn Wilde, the older brother of my best friend, Ellowyne. He is a nurse in a busy ER. Occasionally I volunteer at his hospital to help patients and their loved ones cope with one of the worst days of their lives. I employ healing crystals, aromatherapy, aural manipulation, and singing bowls or tingsha finger cymbals to put the patient at ease. Occasionally I use Reiki, but only with the permission of the patient or the loved ones if the patient cannot consent. It was through this volunteer work that I was introduced to my current avocation, vampire slaying. 

One night, Penn called me because there was an agitated patient who could not calm down. In fact, she became combative, which led the physician to order four-point restraints so he and the nurses could assess her condition, prepare her for tests, and deliver any care. When the doctor, nurses, and security guards tried to place the restraints on her limbs, the patient resisted and punched the doctor in his face. At that point, he asked Penn to get in touch with me and bring whatever I needed to settle her. 

Hurriedly, I grabbed the backpack that contained several tools I use for psycho-spiritual healing: essential oils for aromatherapy, singing bowls, and crystals like amethyst, rhodonite, and smoky quartz to promote feelings of calm. I meditated briefly to facilitate my assessment of the patient and strengthen myself for the task at hand. Before I left the house, I grabbed a clear quartz pendant that I often wore to protect myself from negative energy.

Penn was waiting for me at the nurses’ station. We walked into the curtained area where the patient was. At first, I was shocked and a little confused by the frail elderly woman who looked serene as she laid in her bed. As Penn and I approached her, she started to moan and call out obscenities. I leaned over her and she grabbed my pendant and pulled the cord tight. It took most of Penn’s strength to pull me away from her.  Then I was hit by an overwhelming sensation as I saw her deep black aura. Initially, I didn’t detect it because it was ruffled and chaotic, too difficult for me to sense it. I put the quartz in my pocket and placed a few drops of lavender on the patient’s pillowcase. Then I rubbed one of the singing bowls just enough to elicit sound and placed some crystals on her chest. I used therapeutic touch to manipulate her energies, and, after a few minutes, the patient calmed down enough to allow the physicians, nurses, and technicians to examine, test, and treat the woman without needing restraints. The doctor who was punched thanked me profusely, saying that he’d always been skeptical of psycho-spiritual assessment and healing but that I opened his mind. 

Suddenly, I was struck by one of the worst headaches I’d ever had. It throbbed. It felt like my head was in a vice, with little jackhammers drilling away at my skull. I saw a flash of light and felt like I could vomit. At first, Penn and I figured that it was a migraine caused by my intense experience with the patient. He took me to the staff lounge and told me to rest. On my way to the lounge, I felt a sudden, overwhelming wave of negative energy that literally knocked me off my feet. Although I was shaking, I was able to stagger toward the source of the energy drain. Perhaps the wise action would have been to avoid the area but I had to find out what was affecting me so. To my horror, I saw a young Black woman in scrubs sucking blood from an IV bag. She hadn’t removed the plugs on the bag. Rather, she sank her sharp teeth right into it. She saw me and flashed an evil, bloody smile. At that point, I collapsed. Penn was right with me but he didn’t see the woman. I was thankful he didn’t.

A few hours later, I woke up in a bed in the ER. Other than the combative patient, the ER was unbelievably quiet, so Penn stayed by my side. He applied a few drops of lavender oil to my pillowcase and rubbed my feet, a gesture I found soothing and endearing. He is my rock, and I think that, without his love, I could not do any sort of psycho-spiritual healing, much less survive in the “real” world.  

Penn finished his shift at 7:30 in the morning, and asked me if I wanted to get breakfast. Alas, I was too drained to eat anything, so we went home and headed straight to bed. Penn spooned me and we drifted off to sleep. 

I awoke late in the day. Penn was getting ready for his shift in the ER. He said that he didn’t wake me because I sleeping so deeply and he knew I was completely spent. He brought me some tea and a blueberry muffin, my favorite, before he went to work. I stayed in bed, dozing off and on, until he came home the next morning.

Penn looked haggard and exhausted when he stumbled into the house. He took two shots of whiskey, which was unusual. Occasionally he would drink one beer or one shot after a particularly grueling  shift, but never two.  The shift must have been horrendous. He dragged himself to bed and I rubbed his back while he told me what happened. He saw her. The Black lab technician I saw drinking a unit of blood was back in the same room, sucking another bag dry.  Her brown eyes danced when she saw him. Then, she spoke to him and told him he looked “delicious” but that she’d already had her fill for the night. Penn felt dizzy and hot and wasn’t sure if he had the strength to leave the room. She licked her lips and laughed maliciously as he staggered out of the room. But before he did, he glanced at her name badge and learned that her name was Neema. Hmmm. Neema. I’ve heard about a woman named Neema but I couldn’t remember from whom.

Penn, my poor, beloved Penn, slept fitfully. His limbs jerked and he thrashed about for the next eighteen hours. Fortunately, he was off work for the next several days, so he and I were able to recover from our encounters with Neema.

We discussed several explanations for her disturbing behavior. Perhaps she was part of a vampire sub-culture, a community of people who believed in the medicinal consumption of human blood to alleviate everything from fatigue to gastrointestinal conditions. She might have been delusional or mentally ill, which might make her believe she is genuine vampire and act accordingly. Maybe she read too many Twilight books or watched too many episodes of True Blood on TV. Many fans of fictional vampires tried to emulate them and form underground clubs and communities. On the other hand, perhaps Neema was a budding anthropologist and immersed herself in a vampire lifestyle to better understand it. Then again, Neema could be an actual vampire. We decided to continue to observe her to make sure which of our theories was right.

Over the next several days that Penn had days off,  he and I prepared ourselves to encounter Neema as a genuine vampire rather than a wannabe. Penn is an excellent cook, and we dined on garlic: chicken with 40 cloves of garlic, steaks with chimichurri, crusty bread with garlicky dipping sauce, spaghetti with garlic and olive oil, chile garlic noodles, shrimp scampi, and, of course, garlic bread. I gave him several Reiki sessions and led him in meditation to strengthen himself against a vampire. He grew up in a church, and decided to wear a silver cross that had been given to him as a teenager. To prevent anyone from choking him with it, he slipped it underneath his t-shirt. He tucked a mirrored compact into the pocket of his scrubs and sewed carnelian, amethyst, citrine, and black tourmaline into the pocket of his scrub pants. When it was time for him to go back to work, he was ready. 

He found Neema in the same place he and I first saw her. Again, she was dining on another unit of blood. Her eyes sparkled when she first noticed Penn, but she backed away quickly because he reeked of garlic. Then he stood in front of her, took out the mirrored compact, and determined she was not visible. Finally he pulled the cross necklace from behind his t-shirt and held it up to Neema, who recoiled. She staggered backwards and fell against a wall. Penn turned off the light and locked the door. Then he texted me. He described the encounter and asked me to meet him after the change of shift.

I arrived at the ER a little before 7:30 that morning. Penn saw me straight away and we went to the locked room where a weakened Neema crouched in a corner. We put our arms around her to help her walk and took her to the parking lot, where the sun shone brightly. Neema became weaker with every step and, with some difficulty, we got her into the back seat of our car. 

We drove to the most remote place we knew, an abandoned theme park. I found the setting unnerving but the creepy isolation seemed the perfect setting for what we needed to do. I thought that we should only weaken Neema but Penn pointed out that she might turn to other people, even patients, if she were unable to access units of blood. Besides, she was undead, so it wouldn’t be like we were murdering her. Penn carried Neema out of the car, and I readied the hammer and stake. Driving the stake into her heart was the most gruesome act I’ve ever done. We were certain we did the right thing, but we felt drained and dirty. Hopefully, Neema would be the last vampire we encountered.

Penn and I slept the rest of the day and spent much of the night meditating and cleansing our auras. I received a text from Ellowyne, asking if I’d heard about her friend Neema. Ah, that’s why her name was familiar to me. She only recently moved here and hadn’t met many people. Ellowyne wrote that Neema had disappeared after a shift as a lab tech at Penn’s hospital. There was no body, no trace of Neema anywhere. The hospital reported that she neither called nor showed up for several shifts. In an effort to lighten our moods and change the subject, Ellowyne suggested we all get together at the club the next time Penn had some time off. So we decided to go to the club the next night. 

The first people we saw at the club were Lizette and Amber. Lizette was her usual, cheerful self, but Amber seemed quiet and distracted. Her face, normally a rich, creamy color, was ashen and blotchy. She told us that she had a headache and some muscle pain, and she felt abnormally tired. However, she  brushed it off, explaining that it was probably because she was having an extraordinarily stressful time in law school. Just then, Ellowyne came off the dance floor to greet us. To my chagrin, she was not alone. 

Rufus hung around Ellowyne and me since middle school. He didn’t fit in with any of the cliques. He wasn’t an athlete, a theater enthusiast, a member of the band, a goth, or a nerd. Granted, neither Ellowyne nor I had much in common with those circles either, but we got along with them. We even became good friends with Lizette, who was a science geek, and Amber, who was a talented athlete and part of the sports crowd. But we weren’t shunned the way Rufus was. I don’t know why he glommed onto Ellowyne and me. Ellowyne was always a kind soul and she was nice to him. Even after we graduated from high school, and then college, he stuck to her whenever he could. He was always sullen and surly, even sinister at times. I avoided him the best I could. He made my head hurt. 

And there he was, right in front of us. His greasy black hair was slicked back, his clothes were wrinkled and dirty, and his face sported a twisted smile that gave me the chills. I was nearly overwhelmed at his aura. It was a muddy forest green color, which signified jealousy, insecurity, blaming others, and playing the victim card. He smirked and acknowledged Penn and me. He got in my face, and told me I looked particularly delicious. My heart felt like it would stop, and Penn and I exchanged wide-eyed, horrified looks. Delicious. I had always known Rufus to be an energy vampire, but was he now a real vampire?

Rufus snickered at Penn and me. Then he took Amber by the hand and guided Amber to the dance floor. As she stood from the table, Penn spied two puncture wounds on her neck. 

Ellowyne and Lizette sensed that Penn and I were uncomfortable around Rufus. They both assured us that he had changed but neither of us was convinced. If anything, he was worse–more ominous, more dangerous–than when we were all in school. Ellowyne asked us to stay a little longer, and Penn agreed. That shocked me because he knew I was reeling from the encounter with Rufus. He pulled me onto the dance floor and whispered that staying  would give us a chance to check on Amber. We scanned the floor but didn’t see her or Rufus. Eventually, they came in from the outside. Rufus strutted and flashed a wide, self-satisfied smile. Amber staggered as if she were under the influence of some kind of intoxicating substance. Or a vampire…

Penn worked a stretch of four 12-hour night shifts while I read and researched and reviewed every bit of information I could about vampires. We went back to the club on his first night off, and saw Amber by herself. She was bold, flirtatious, and approached Penn immediately. She said that word: Delicious. We knew that she had become a vampire herself. He flashed his cross necklace, which made her shudder. We didn’t have the sunlight to weaken her, but we were able to get her into the car and to the abandoned amusement park. There, Penn held the stake while I hammered it into her chest. I cried. Amber, when she was alive, was a great friend. But Penn reminded me that her life ended with Rufus’ final bite. 

Lizette called on me one evening because she was frightened. She had a deep, disturbing feeling that Rufus was involved with her friends’ disappearances. We discussed him a little and I shared that I always felt uncomfortable and drained in his presence. I didn’t share my suspicion that maybe he was a real vampire. I did an aural reading, led her in a guided meditation, and gave her a Reiki session. I noticed that she was wearing a silver cross that her grandmother had given her, and I told her it was so beautiful that she should wear it all the time. Afterwards, I realized that I hadn’t eaten yet, so I asked Lizette to stay for dinner. I heated up some leftover chicken with forty cloves of garlic and made a salad with creamy garlic dressing. I also served garlic bread. She remarked that she loved garlic but that a previous boyfriend didn’t and wouldn’t “let” her have it. Since they had broken up, Liz indulged in garlic whenever she liked. We toasted that terrible boyfriend with a glass of wine, and I sent the rest of the garlic bread with her when she was ready to leave. 

A few nights later, I texted Ellowyne and invited her to dinner. Penn had the night off and prepared a garlic-laden feast: salad with lemon garlic dressing, sourdough bread with garlic dipping sauce, and shrimp scampi. Penn joked that he wanted to serve garlic ice cream, which we actually had in the freezer. Instead, he dished out huge scoops of homemade chocolate ice cream drizzled with hot fudge sauce. We discussed Rufus, and I told her about my concerns that he could not be trusted. Ellowyne became uncomfortable and she admitted that she would rather avoid him altogether but he stuck to her like a blood-sucking tick. I shuddered at her simile. 

Several nights later, we met up with Lizette and Ellowyne at the club. Rufus was there and put his arms around both women. However, he recoiled when he saw Lizette’s silver cross. He then stood up, took Ellowyne’s hand, and led her to the dance floor. I had finally had it with Rufus. Years of him clinging to Ellowyne and stalking her, along with him being a real vampire, came to a head. I marched onto the dance floor and yanked my best friend away from him. He glowered at me, then pulled me into his arms to dance. He paled when he smelled the garlic on my breath and in my sweat, but he wasn’t going to be deterred from what he intended to do. He smiled sardonically, exposing his fangs. Then he pulled me close for a slow dance, even though the music was lively. Rufus ran his clammy fingers through my hair and lingered at my neck. My skin crawled and my spine tingled, but I wasn’t going to let go of him. Not if I was going to stop him.

Eventually, Rufus guided me outside where some club goers went to smoke. We walked past them into a secluded spot. Just then, Penn came up behind Rufus, opened some vials of holy water from our vampire-slaying kit, and threw them at him. Rufus shrieked and turned to attack Penn. I grabbed some cloves of garlic and rubbed them on Rufus. He screamed that they burned and he let go of Penn. We dragged Rufus to a nearby creek and the flowing water weakened him enough that we could get him to our car, tie him up, and drive to what had become our spot for slaying vampires.

Once we were there, Penn pressed his silver cross onto Rufus’s forehead, which made him screech. I dug out the crucifix in our kit and pushed it toward him, which significantly weakened him. Then Penn readied the stake and I, fueled by rage, hammered it into Rufus’ chest. While the undead vampire perished for its very last time, he transformed. No longer was he dangerous. No longer was he a controlling creep. His face became that of a middle schooler’s, an innocent adolescent who desperately wanted to fit in. As I watched his transformation, I realized that Rufus was not malevolent at his core but that he was socially awkward and misunderstood. He didn’t know how to be a friend, to get along, to admit to sweet Ellowyne that he cared about her, or to return her kindness. Rufus didn’t start out as a monster, but his insecurity and social ineptitude made him into one. Penn and I cried. He then took an axe and decapitated what was left of Rufus. He put a match to the body to set it on fire and crushed and burned the head, ensuring that the vampire could never return to threaten anyone again. We sat there until well after sunrise, when the brilliant orb bathed the ashes in bright, direct light until they completely disappeared. We went home and put away our vampire-slaying kit. 

Penn and I were spent. He asked for and received an emergency leave of absence from work because he was too distraught, too exhausted, too traumatized to even step into the ER. About a week later, he and I went on a healing retreat. We received Reiki, had massage therapy, and walked in the rain to cleanse our auras. We thought about telling Ellowyne and Lizette that Rufus was a vampire and that he turned Neema and Amber into vampires themselves. We decided against it because the threat was no more. At least we hoped.