(Part Two) -- The Vampire Warehouse

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Drogan Yates had to pretty much block out most of Jerry's conversation while he was driving. It seemed to get worse and worse as they went along. He just wanted to make this lesson as quick and as painless as possible so he could get it over with and make it home before dawn.

Mr. Leinfeld didn't make himself easy to ignore. "So where are we going? Can we feed on rich people? Fucking HATE rich people! I wonder if they taste better. Probably not. Probably all bitter and shit. I should probably start small. I mean...not like with a midget or some shit, but maybe a handicapped kid, or a retard." Oh my GOD, Drogan just wanted him to shut the hell up before he broke the ignorance barrier and ended up undoing all of creation with a single idiotic comment. "How about that one?" He said, pointing out of the car window.

"Ooh!!! What about that one over there?"
Drogan sighed loudly with frustration. "What did I JUST say? You need to exercise patience in matters of this nature, Mr. Leinfeld."

The car accelerated as Drogan rushed to the designated donor area and hopped out of the car so fast that he almost forgot to take the keys with him.

"Ok, here we are." He said, looking down the street at the 4 to 6 city blocks that were laid out for safe hunting. He guided Jerry away from the car, and the two of them began to walk. "You remember what I told you about selecting a donor, correct? You'll get better at this as time goes on, but for now, you want to scan for things like excessive alcohol consumption, narcotics, or inhibiting stimulants that would prevent you from making a hasty escape if necessary. It's very important that you detect these things first."

"Man, that sounds like one hell of a party to me. If I find any of that shit in some guys system, I'm following him back to the party and dancing my ass off."

Drogan ignored the last comment. "Once the major blood scan is complete, you want to fine tune it to look for other factors, such as high cholesterol, sickle cell, HIV, or any blood defects that could affect your heart. Remember, this is going to be your blood supply for the next four to six weeks. If it starts doing damage to your heart, you'll have to bleed yourself out and start all over again. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"Sure, man. It's whatever." He replied. "I should have taken that watered down Scotch man. Ahem. I'm thirsty as shit."

At that moment, Drogan saw a man in a sleeveless shirt, sporting a few tattoos, walking down the street and then heading into one of the dark alleys. Normally, he would let the client choose his own donor and get a feel for picking one out, but as the thirst was obviously taking a hold of him faster than expected, he figured he'd make the suggestion. Besides, the sooner he was rid of Mr. Leinfeld, the sooner he could get back to the office and pass him off to some other poor sucker in the agency.

"Who? Where?" Jerry said. "The guy that went down the alley? Yeah. Ok. Alright. Fuck yeah! He looks like an asshole!"

"Right. Asshole. Whatever." Drogan told him, getting his client hyped up. "Now, you remember what I told you, right? You take him down, pull the head to the side, sink into the main artery. Don't swallow! You don't want a belly full of blood. You'll be sick for days while it tries to distribute itself into your system. Just bite in the the neck and let the fangs do their job. Alright?"

Jerry straightened himself up and got read. "Focus. Right. I'm focused. Gotchya. Alright! Alright, let's DO THIS!!!" He shouted, and Drogan was quick to quiet him down before he woke up the whole neighborhood. "Oops! Yeah, sorry. I'm just pumped up. That's all. Alright...here I go. I'm going." He headed off to the alley, and Drogan followed not far behind him, hoping that this night would finally be coming to a close. Thank God.

He peered around the corner as Jerry began walking behind the other man down the dark alley. Surprisingly, he seemed to have absorbed a few of the key elements of the approach. Close, but not too close. Gaining a few steps at a time, decreasing the distance between him and his donor without really alerting him to his intentions. Jerry's fangs dropped down from his gums, and he kept his head down slightly to keep the crimson glow from being too visible. Good. Good technique. Not bad. He just might make it after all.

Drogan watched closely so he could grade him on his skills and give helpful advice for future endeavors. But then...something went wrong.

Suddenly, just as he was getting close enough to be noticed, the man looked over his shoulder, and Jerry ran at him with his fangs down and his arms spread! "FANGOR, mother fucker!!!" He shouted, and jumped at the man, putting his hands on his shoulders.

"What the fuck are you doing, crack head???" The man said, leaning back as Jerry tried his best to bite him in the neck. The man didn't hesitate, and before Jerry had a chance to react, the man balled up his fist and smashed him right in the mouth! Stunned, Jerry reeled backwards, and the man began going to town on him, his fists slamming into him hard, kneeing him in the stomach, giving him a head butt, and knocking him back against the dumpster. Drogan cringed as the man literally beat Jerry down to the concrete in the most embarrassing way possible.

All while Jerry was still attempting to shout out, "Fangor....monster from the...AHH! Fuck! Fuck you! OWWW!!!"

The man made sure that Jerry was down, and gave him a kick in the ribs for good measure. Then he walked out of the alley without even looking back and went on about his business.

Sighhhh....Drogan stepped out from around the corner, and slowly approached the beaten vampire, helping him back to his feet. "Ummm...what happened?"

"What do you MEAN, what happened??? He kicked my ass!!!" Jerry wailed, still holding his hand over his mouth.

"You do realize that, as a vampire, you're a lot stronger than him, right?" Drogan asked.

"Well nobody told HIM that! Look at me, man! I'm fucked up! I'm Fangor, monster from the shadows! He can't just punch me in the mouth! What the hell was HIS problem? I KNEW he was gonna be an asshole!"

"Yeah, well...he's sort of...fighting for his life, Mr. Leinfeld...soooo...he, like most donors, is bound to put up a bit of a struggle." Drogan told him.

"Fuck that guy! I should go back and get my homies and crack that dude's skull open!"

"Yeah, but if I wasn't, I'd go back and get my homies and crack that dude's skull open!"

"OK!!! Fine. Your...homies aside...perhaps we can work on your take down technique a little more at a later date. Ok?"

"How's he just gonna punch Fangor, monster from the shadows, in the goddamn mouth like that? Doesn't make any kind of fuckin' sense!" He pouted.

Drogan gave him a handkerchief to wipe some of the blood from his nose and lips as they walked together to the end of the alley. "We have classes that can teach you some basic fighting applications, Mr. Leinfeld, if you're at all interested."

"I'm gonna find that guy and beat the shit out of him! I swear! Asshole! If I could get my homies to come out, we'd go to work on that dude!"

Not wanting to get into THAT trap again, Drogan suggested that Jerry find a donor that was a little less 'tough'. Ad after another 20 minutes of wandering through the city blocks, they came across a young lady, very short in stature, who was texting on a street corner and holding her purse. Drogan thought that maybe she'd be a little easier for Jerry to handle. So, once again, he sent hi client forward. Telling him, "This time, Mr. Leinfeld...it might be wise to not shout out, 'Fangor, mother fucker' at the moment of engagement. Ok? Just...just a tip."

Rubbing his eyes with another sigh, Drogan said, "Um..well..for ONE, she's not supposed to know who you are...because you're ATTACKING here. Ok? And TWO...even if you did tell her who you were...um...it wouldn't really matter, because your hope...in fact, your goal...is to KILL her. That's sort of the whole reason that we're out here. We don't want her to survive and tell people who you are, because...that would be bad. Alright? Dead is good. Alive is bad."

Light bulb. "Ahhhh. Ok, I got it. Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking. I got excited. You're totally right, dude. See? You're thinking. Those last five counselors I went to, they didn't get me like you get me. I'm digging this whole vibe we got going here, you and me. Ok. No shouting my name. I'm like...I'm like Batman, dude. Nobody knows. Got it."

"Thanks!" He chirped with a goofy smile, and trotted off to try it out again. Drogan just prayed that he would get this one right. How hard can this be? Seriously.

He watched from the shadows, and the approach was good. Fangs down. Glowing yes hidden. He kept his word and kept himself quiet this time. Everything was going to plan. Then...the pounce. Good! Very good! The lady struggled a bit, but Jerry seemed to have a decent handle on the situation. Then, she began to move back and forth...and she spun right around him. Next thing he knew, he had received two blows from her purse, and the woman slipped right out of her jacket. She took off running and screaming, and Jerry ran after her. But that woman kicked it into second gear, and she was seriously hauling ass across the park to get away from him. She began zig zagging back and forth, completely jooking right out of Jerry's reach. She was cutting corners so fast, that Jerry fell flat on his face trying to keep up with her. Drogan put his hand over his eyes. He couldn't watch this. Even HE was humiliated at this point.

The woman was screaming the entire time, but she still had enough breath to fake him out. Finally, Jerry fell to his knees with exhaustion, and the woman kept running down the street, purse in hand, until she was completely out of sight.

Again...Drogan slowly walked up to his client, finding him on his hands and knees, nearly about to throw up from breathing so hard. Jerry managed to wheeze out, "I got your coat, bitch! 'Huff huff' I got...'huff huff'....I got your coat..." He rolled over onto his back, and just stared at the sky for a moment. "'Huff Huff' I'm keeping her coat, dude. She ain't getting this coat back."

Drogan stood over him for a moment...not saying a word. Knowing that he would probably have to spend even more time with this man. Finally, he said, "Well...at least you didn't tell her who you were. Soooo....that's a good thing, I suppose." Again, he helped Jerry to his feet, and dusted him off. "Mr. Leinfeld...this isn't going too well for you..."

"Aww, come on man! You can't put this on me! That bitch was like...she's like one of those, 'whatchamacallits'....like a fuckin' cheetah, or a...or a gazelle or something! I think she was one of us, man. Seriously."

"No, no, really! Think about it! She must have been using her super powers or something. Did you see her? I think she was superhuman, man. Right? I mean, like, right?"

Rolling his eyes, Drogan kept his voice calm, and said, "You know...maybe this was a mistake, coming out here like this. You know, some vampires aren't really cut out for every aspect of living in darkness..."

But Jerry spoke up, "No! No no no...don't do it, man! Don't give me that speech, man. I've heard that speech before, man. My high school principal gave me that talk my third week into my freshman year, man. Don't do it. Look, I can DO this shit, just give me another chance! Ok? I can do it. I swear!"

Looking at his watch and figuring that it wasn't too much longer until dawn, what could it hurt. "Sighhh...I suppose the third time's the charm, right?"

"Third time! Fuck yeah! Third time, man! I got this! Ok?" He said, eager to give it one more try.

Drogan took another chance, and for the next thirty minutes, they wandered the area, looking for someone who wouldn't be able to outrun, out fox, or just plain beat the living shit out of his client. He passed up many potentials along the way, and finally found someone that might be a little more Jerry's speed. The man was about 350 pounds, easy...certainly in no shape to outrun a vampire, and with no muscle tone to suggest that he'd be able to take down the might...Fangor. So Drogan gave Jerry another pep talk, reminded him of ALL the basics, and told him EXACTLY what he needed to do in order to get through this. Jerry nodded and nodded and got himself all worked up and ready. He even did some stretches to limber up first. Drogan pleaded with him to be careful and get this right. He gave him the answer he expected.

And off he went. Drogan wondered if he should even watch this. Again, he made the approach, targeted his donor, hid his glowing eyes...but before he could get close enough, the overweight man caught site of him and noticed something strange about him. Jerry attempted to speed up, but the man saw his fangs as he got closer. Terrified, he took off running in the other direction. Now this time...Drogan had no doubts about Jerry being able to catch him, and he was already gaining on him when Drogan noticed that they were heading for the street.

Drogan saw what was going on, but hardly had a chance to shout out a warning. "No, no no no WAIT!!! Mr. Lein...."

But it was too late. The large man wasn't looking where he was going, charged out into the street, and was suddenly creamed by the 69 bus as it came speeding by! The impact was downright epic! The front of the bus was dented, the windows cracked, and the man was splattered all over the street, heavy splashes of blood covering Jerry from head to toe as he stood there in shock.

The bus came to a screeching halt, and the driver and all of the passengers came out to see the gory mess. Drogan was quick to grab Jerry by the arm and pull him away from the scene of the accident. He was still standing there, completely stupefied by what happened. "Mr. Leinfeld? Mr. Leinfeld, we have to go now. Right now! Come on. Let's go....come on..." He had to drag him away, and sneak back to the car where Drogan put down some towels from the trunk in the front seat. They drove out of the designated hunting area, and found a dark parking lot not far from the lake to sit and lay low for a little while. There was a long silence between them, and finally, Drogan said, "You know...I think I might be able to suggest another counselor who might be better suited to...uhh...handle your 'special' needs. I think...I think that would be best."

Jerry licked some of the excess blood off of his lips. "I'm not sure what happened. I don't....I didn't even see that coming." He licked his lips again. Then his chin. Then his fingers.

"It's ok, Mr. Leinfeld. Like I said, this stuff isn't easy for everybody. It takes...time and patience....guidance..."

Jerry licked his palm...and then licked the back of his hand..then further up his sleeve. His breathing changed slightly. It got heavier.

"I'm thinking...maybe I might try out that other thing we talked about in your office. You know...just once. Just to see if I like it."

"You know...the whole....'scavenger' thing. Because...I think I'm totally seeing the possibilities in something like that right about now."

Drogan said, "I told you before, Mr. Leinfeld...that's really not the best of decisions for you to make. There are a series of complications that come with the Scavenger lifestyle. You'd have to hunt your own kind, and you'd have to be very secretive about something like that because...." He stopped talking. He looked over at his client, who was hungrily reaching his tongue out to clean off as much of his own face as he could. His fangs were down, his eyes glowing a deadly shade of blood red...and he was staring at Drogan Yates with the most demonic grin on his face.

Drogan looked out of the front windshield, and saw nothing but an empty parking lot all around. Just the two of them in that car....and total darkness.

Well what do you know? It looks Jerry Leinfeld might have learned a little something after all......