“Eckart. Eckart, hello?”
I found myself sitting at the local bar in town, the Jury Room, hunched over the wooden ledge and staring blankly at the tap behind the bartender.
I cleared my throat, blinking my eyes back into reality. “You can just call me Niall, Percy. The formality doesn’t suit you.”
“Well, whatever you want me to call you, you haven’t ordered anything. And it looks like you could use a drink.” Percy eyed me behind a set of round glasses. He absentmindedly ran his thumb along the towel slung over his shoulder.
“Yeah, I guess so.” I sighed, leaning back and fishing my wallet out of my front pocket. “Just an old fashioned.”
“Sure.”
Silence settled between the two of us again, the rest of the bar quietly occupied in side conversations. It was a bit empty this evening—granted, it was a Tuesday. The only people here probably weren't here for a good reason. I pinched my brow and closed my eyes, white spots dancing across my vision as the Lieutenant’s conversation replayed in my mind. He was right, no one would believe me. Hell, the more I thought about it, the less I believed it. But I know what I saw, and I know for damn sure something wasn’t right with that man. The way his skin singed, the way his mouth gaped wide and sunk deep into my neck, the needle-sharp teeth draining the blood from my body. My fingers traced from my brow to the collar of my shirt. I unbuttoned the top button to reach a patch of gauze still covering the sore wound.
“Here ya’ go, Niall.” Percy gently set the short glass in front of me.
“Thanks, kid.”
“So, what happened to ya?” Percy gestured to the gauze my hand rested on.
I chuckled. “Some old coot. Took a chunk out of my neck in the last case I was working.”
“Recently?”
“Yeah. ‘Bout a week ago.”
“Damn. Must be sore.”
“Yeah. Gonna leave a hell of a scar.”
“Are you back on duty then?”
I swirled the drink in my glass, watching as the shred of orange peel tumbled around the ice. “No, no I’m done. Turned my badge in today.”
Percy’s eyes widened at that. “The Eckart? Retired? I’ll be damned. Must have been quite the case to make ya do somethin’ like that.”
I shrugged. “It gave me a lot to think about.”
“I can understand that.”
I nodded and took a slow sip from my drink. Percy’s glasses fogged up as he washed a dish behind the bar. He didn’t seem too perturbed by my current, sorry state. He didn’t press me for many answers either—that’s probably why we got along so well. There wasn’t much to talk about with a cop, let alone a detective. I suppose those days are behind me now, though. I threw back the rest of my drink, the whiskey burning the back of my throat. I could feel a buzz behind my eyes.
“So, what, are you done now? Put the badge down, kick up your feet?” Percy plucked my glass from the bar and took it to the sink.
“Not sure. That’s why I’m here.” I paused. “I’m thinkin’ about going private.”
Percy nodded. “You’re young. Too young to retire.”
“That’s rich, coming from you. You seem half my age.”
“Only twenty-four, sir.” He smiled. “But you don’t seem the type to die sittin’ still.”
“I’d be happy to.”
“Anyone would be. Don’t mean it suits you.” He set another old fashioned in front of me. “I’d say do it.”
I took the drink and nodded. “Yeah, I probably will.”
This drink was stronger than the last—intentionally or not, I couldn’t say. Percy nodded and walked away to help a short woman in a navy dress further down the bar. I stared down at the golden liquid, my fingers perched gently on one side. The chilled glass left a ring of condensation on the bar as I lifted it to take a sip.
I closed my eyes again, setting the glass down and pinching the bridge of my nose. The buzz behind my eyes began to ache, my mind reeling headfirst into itself across the void of my closed eyelids. The sensation made me feel dizzy, and perhaps out of instinct, I stood up. This did not help the dizziness. In fact, the sudden movement spurred me forward into the wooden bar.
“Jesus, kid... what did you put in this...?” I mumbled under my breath—the very effort of speaking grinding against my skull.
I stumbled upwards, the ache now stabbing through my head, my body burning in searing pain.
“Eckart, sir? You alright?” I could barely make out Percy’s voice from across the room.
I muttered something in response and shuffled towards the door; the hand that was pinching my nose now clutched the top of my head, attempting to cage whatever thing was trying to rip its way out.
The night was dark, a pitch-black abyss that only seemed darker through my hindered sight. I felt the cool sprinkle of rain against my face while my legs moved on their own—marching forward to some mysterious reprieve that I didn’t know of. My free hand fumbled through the darkness, ensuring my unsteady footing found solid ground—but it didn't take long for my foot to connect with something against the sidewalk, planting me square on the pavement. The headache only worsened with the recent trauma against the rain-soaked floor. The stench of garbage and wet dog filled my nostrils; the whiskey threatened its way back up my throat.
The bile was only halted by the sudden metallic taste coating the inside of my mouth.
“What the hell...?” I moved my hand from my head to my mouth, still sprawled pathetically on the ground.
It was blood, but I wasn’t sure where it was coming from. My mind immediately jumped to poison.
I winced as I sat upright, the wet pavement soaking through my clothes. The light rain mingled with the blood now dripping down my chin. Carefully, and painfully, I opened my mouth and checked the damage with my hand.
My index finger caught something sharp, the unexpected sensation sending my hand back out of my mouth. I watched as the cut on my finger oozed blood slowly down my palm.
I stumbled upwards, traced back the few feet I did somehow walk, and swung open the door to the bar. It was much brighter than I remembered, the light blinding me as I shambled through the doorway.
“Eckart? You don’t look too good, sir...” I could see Percy’s face in perfect clarity this time, his hands raised sympathetically at his sides.
“I’m... fine. Just need the bathroom.” I shooed him away with my free hand, the other covering my bloody mouth.
“Eckart? You sure—”
Before Percy could finish, I threw open the door of the bathroom with my shoulder and closed the door behind me. I gripped the sides of the sink like it were my last lifeline, heaving over the faucet. I watched the scarlet red blood spatter against the pristine porcelain, my chest lurching—if it was poison, I needed to vomit, get it out of my system as best as I could, and just pray it didn’t wreak too much havoc on my body. I spat out more blood before looking up to the mirror.
The bandage that was previously secured to my neck now hung limply, exposing my wound—or rather, lack thereof—to the stale air. I took the bandage off, looking closely for any imperfections in the skin. There was no gaping hole, no scar. Just my pale skin, unscathed.
That’s when I noticed my teeth.
My canines ruptured far out of my gums, blood oozing from my mouth from the sudden growth spurt.
And then there were the eyes—like golden slits. Orange peels garnished on an old fashioned.
“Eckart?! You’re scaring me, sir. Are you sure you’re okay?” Percy pounded against the door from the other side. His hand sounded like gunshots, scraping against the inside of my head.
“Don’t come in! Just—hold on, just let me—” I shouted through the door, throwing my hand up as if that would stop his entry. I could feel my teeth pushing further out of my mouth, causing a groan to escape from my throat. I felt my grip slide from the sink and my bodyweight hit the cool tile floor. I hunched over, heaving on all fours.
The door swung open, “Eckart, sir! I heard you—Jesus, what happened?” Percy had the courtesy to close the door behind him when he saw me curled up and bleeding.
“I said—don't come—in.” I felt my fists curl, a pounding in my ears ringing out like Percy’s beating against the door—it was constant, rhythmic.
“Sir, I heard you fall, and I—” His eyes were still bug-eyed behind his glasses, almost filling the frames completely. His hand hovered apprehensively over my shaking body.
The pounding in my ears grew louder, and before I knew it, I had shot up to my feet and grappled Percy by the collar. I could hear the pounding, faster now, and louder. He let out a yelp, his warm hands wrapped around my wrists in protest.
“Eck—sir—” He squirmed, knocking the glasses from his face and clattering uselessly onto the floor. The pounding quickened.
My eyes bore deep into his. This was wrong, I knew this was wrong—I moaned, the pounding was all I could hear anymore, and it just kept getting faster and louder. I felt my hands shake as they tightened around Percy’s collar.
“Percy... you have to get... everyone... out of here—you hear me?” I felt like I was starving. “You get everyone, and then... you leave too.”
He nodded furiously, and I let him go. He rushed out of the door, and I can only assume he kicked out what little customers remained. I felt cold, dazed, hungry. Sweat gathered at my hairline, mingling with the rain I had carried in from outside. My chest shuddered out another feeble breath. Whatever this was, poison or not, it was killing me.
After a moment, I slowly opened the door.
Percy stood alone in the dark, empty bar—the pounding deafening and defiant. He stood between me and the exit, his sympathetic arms raised once more—this time, an offering.
The last thing I remember is darkness.
