Sanitarium
Pat’s story appeared in the anthology,
“Once in a Blue Moon”

Jake lives a life of self-imposed isolation, waiting for the legend of the Blue Moon to come true. Should he not feed from human blood for the period between the new moons and find true love...he'll be restored to his mortal self. But with only a fortnight left, has he found true love in Annie?


Awards: The Road to Romance Reviewer's Choice Award

The sanitary white walls seemed closer this evening. Much closer than they were yester eve, and even closer still than the night before. Either he truly was that much nearer to losing his mind, or he had never been in full capacity in the first place. Probably the reason he had checked himself in three years prior and had yet to see the outside of these walls since. Anyone living within the parameter would likely go crazy had they not been before entering the sanitarium. And all because of his crazy ass notion to chase the legend of the Blue Moon.

Jake rubbed his raw, tired eyes. He had been sitting in the same chair for hours, listening to the chatter and yakety-yak of the residents. Not for the first time he wondered at his decision to place himself within the walls. At the time, he thought it a reasonable idea. Now? He wasn’t so sure he could even define reasonable.

Looking up, he spied William Jones sitting in the opposite corner, drool running from the right side of his lips, wetting the shoulder of his shirt, as he hugged himself. A monotonous droning mumbled forth as he rocked forward. On and on. For hours the man swayed and moaned. Enough to drive a sane man mad. Many a nights, Jake wanted to take one of his holey socks and stuff it between the man’s lips just to cease the endless babbling.

His gaze left Jonesy and traveled to Sally Mason. Sally sat dressed in a lovely pair of baby doll pajamas as bedtime neared, looking all of sixteen. More than likely, the woman approached her mid-thirties. She hugged her bald black doll to her chest and cooed. Word had it she lost her newborn within hours of birth and had never been able to move past the grief. Now she seemed in serious denial.

Ilene Walker talked to the empty chair opposite her, carrying on a full-blown conversation. Even paused dramatically as if the chair had suddenly grown a mouth and verbalized back. The woman couldn’t possibly speak without the use of her hands as they flew carelessly about. Everyone walked a wide arc around her chair to avoid being swatted by a wayward hand. She had lots of imaginary friends. This evening she spoke with Walt.

Then there was Crazy Willy. He never let go of his crotch for fear the thing would shrivel up and fall off. His left hand cradled his dick even while he ate with his right. Hell, he carried on conversations all the while holding onto that thing. And every time a comely woman would near, Crazy Willy would waggle that thing and cackle. He probably walked around with a perpetual hard on. Jake figured the man slept with it in his hand, never once losing contact. Talk about serious anxieties.

Reasonable. The entire fucking room was not reasonable.

And how does a man such as himself convince the board of a sanitarium he indeed needed to be put away? That he belonged among these residents? He tells them he’s a vampire. That he feeds off the lifeblood of others. Biting one female board member’s neck had helped solidify his claim. Of course, they never believed his tale, but he had definitely left his mark…so to speak.

So here he sat, over three years later, praying for a quick, painless end to his existence and wondered what the hell he had been thinking over three years ago. Mortality. Was it worth regaining what he sought most to live within the confines of this craziness surrounding him? He had nearly completed half the requirements of the blue moon legend by not drinking human blood for three years, but fulfilling the second half wouldn’t be so easy. Finding true love. Hell, he was living in a nuthouse, for crissake. He slept in the dank basement during the daylight hours and came out at sunset. Lucky for him, most of the residents went to bed shortly thereafter and he was only treated to their theatrics mere hours. But finding true love among them? Impossible.

Annabelle walked by, smiled, patted his shoulder and moved on. She had been the one bright spot to his incarceration—the one that kept him sane; kept him mentally stable. Had it not been for Annie, he’d have succumbed to the madness long ago. Not hard to do in a place such as this.

Her flaxen mane twisted in a severe knot behind her head. What he wouldn’t do to release the pins and run his fingers through the masses. Her tan golden complexion, stemming from hours of idolizing the sun, stood in contrast to his pale one. Jake longed to undress her, worship her human flesh with his lips and tongue, to rake his elongated canines down the pulse point of her throat and smell the rich blood running through her. His obsession of her bordered madness; years of abstinence would drive any man to the brink of insaneness. If she only knew his inner thoughts, she’d never come within feet of him, let alone be in the same room. Good thing for Annie his will had been crafted of iron.

Her brief contact had heated his cool flesh, much like that of direct sunlight. Jake spent his nights feeling only coldness seeping through his weary veins and welcomed the heeling balm like salve to a wound. Annie. His one shot at true love…and she was one of the sane ones. Just his luck. Surely, falling in love with a vampire wasn’t on her schedule of things to do.

“Will you need anything this evening, Jake?” Annie asked as she made her way back by. She knelt before his chair, placing her hand atop his knee. “I can get you something to eat, if you are feeling hungry. You’re much too skinny these days. I swear you aren’t eating a thing.”

She’d likely be appalled should she learn exactly what he fed upon nightly. “Thank you, my dear, but my flesh requires little. Only enough to sustain.”

Patting his knee, she stood, inadvertently allowing him a view of her cleavage and the white lacy brassiere that barely covered her deep rose colored nipples, sending shivers of hot desire dancing along his spine and cold blood coursing to his penis. The thought of suckling one of those pert tips had him squirming in his chair with an erection Willy would be proud of. Jake was suddenly famished. His growing canines told him as much.

Without so much as a word, Jake stood, turned his back on Annie and headed for the cellar where he spent a big share of his night. Annie likely shrugged it off as just one of his quirks and went about her way, taking care of the other residents. A cold draft hit him as he entered the dank room and descended the stairs, without so much as a light to guide his way. He didn’t need it anyway as he saw clearly in the dark…every creature that scurried across the floor. Jake could smell the hot blood coursing through their tiny little veins, feel their fear as if it were his own. He picked up one black fur-covered rat and held it close to his nose. Only one thing even came close to sex and that was the smell of rich blood. He hadn’t had human blood in three years…denied himself, all for the chance at being human again. What he wouldn’t give up to return to his mortal state.

His fangs elongated as he brought the rodent to his lips and sank his teeth into its hair covered, leathery flesh. The small critter squirmed and twisted in his steel grasp, but all in futility. Soon the nasty tasting fluid flowed through his fangs and fed his undernourished body, tightening his gut like a vice. He could live on animal blood, had for the past three years, but only human blood brought him to orgasm with its rich flavor and warmth.

Jake tossed the carcass across the room in disgust and went in search of another. His erection pounded within the confines of his pants, calling for appeasement. Rodent blood wouldn’t ease the ache Annie had begun moments ago. He had a feeling only Annie would ever assuage that hunger. He wanted her with more force than he had ever wanted another human. Only she would be able to help him end this tortured existence. He needed her love before the next new moon…more specifically the next blue moon. And he only had a fortnight in which to do it.

Reaching for a gray scurrying beast, a scream rent the night that sounded suspiciously like Annie’s. He pivoted on his heel, rodent forgotten, and bounded the steps two at a time.

Copyright 2003, Patricia A. Rasey