Badgered
I met the vampire in winter apparel, though I didn't know it at the time. All I saw was a fuzzy little bat hanging off a scarf. It looked as if were sleeping. My approach caused no response. I took a mesh shopping bag from under my clothes-folding cart and snuck towards the bat. Without hesitation, I scooped it off the scarf with the bag. Its small wings flailed weakly, and I could see the small teeth of protesting jaws as I placed the mesh bag on the cart.
I looked up and down the aisle. Monday night brought a sort of quiet to clothes retail, especially in a store with this large of floorspace located on the edge of town. Many days could pass on these four hour shifts where no customers would disturb the racks, and if I played my cards right, I wouldn't even see a manager stir. I would occupy myself folding and refolding the jeans section, letting my mind wander to anything besides work.
On occasion, I would also patrol the store on crooked path, searching for anything amiss: Like a bat hanging off a scarf. I scanned the area for the manager on shift that night: Hutch. I tried to avoid him as much as possible if he was around on my shifts, mostly because he was a jerk, this time because of his animosity towards bats. He had killed one with a broom no more than a month ago. The bat had made a valiant effort to escape before Hutch had made the final blow, laughing manically as he did.
This one was not going to meet that same fate if I had anything to do with it. I sneaked around the long way to the back, to the far corner of the store. I would slip into the back room, down the corridor, take the exit door by the office. Hopefully Hutch wouldn't be there to hear me and investigate. I would release the bat and no one would ever have to know.
This plan went all wrong soon after I entered the storeroom. I had left the cart, now holding only the mesh bag, the bat still twitching within. I slipped between the huge metal shelves of musty smelling overstock when I heard the scrabbling. I stopped. I looked down at my shoes. The scrabbling continued, along with some snuffling, like some creature stalking the other side of the shelf. I pressed against the boxes. I sank down, trying to peak under the shelf, between the boxes, seeing what might be making the sound. Then I noticed it was coming from the opposite side of the room, at the same time. Two mysterious sources.
Then the lights went off. I swore. I pulled my cellphone out. The green glow from the screen did not provide much illumination. The storeroom was separated from the rest of the back rooms. No windows. Plastic doors separated this part from the rest of the corridor. If I could make it there...
It was then I saw the glowing eyes. Multiple sets of glowing eyes, blocking my path between the shelves. I turned to run the opposite way, back out into the florescence of the rest of these store, to find more glowing eyes. Could see the vague phantoms of snouts under them, broad snouts, dripping jaws. Some stupid part of me wanted to see further details. The sensible part did not. That part got me to climb up the second level of shelves. The sets of eyes came forward, and converged, until they were all below me, staring up. I climbed another layer. Two layers above. I saw the forms made no movement. They just kept staring up. I waved my cell phone about, trying to find an escape route. This set of shelves was an island. I couldn't believe I had got this high. I was not exactly in a safe position anyway, hanging out, one hand hanging on the metal ledge and mesh bag, the other holding my cell phone.
I hoped the bat was alright.
I thought about calling for help. That would mean dealing with Hutch. Mmm...did I really want to make that sacrifice. There was multiple creatures gathered below me...I didn't need another creature to deal with. I closed my eyes. Perhaps the creatures would just...disappear.
"Let us go."
I opened my eyes and looked down.
"Let us go."
The voices came from below.
"Let us go."
I could count eight sets of eyes. Oh dangit. This day had went from slow to careening-down-a-mountain-road-with-no-breaks rather quickly.
"Let us go."
A chill went down my spine. This voice came from another course. I slowly turned to where my hand gripped the shelf. There, between the boxes, a face stuck out, its hot breath on my fingers, its fangs dripping upon them. I could see in the cell phone light the truth of what it was.
"Let us go," it growled in unison of those below.
And I did. Well, I let go of the shelf. This caused me to fall ten feet to the hard, cement ground.
I did not black out as I hoped I would. I also hadn't seemed to have broken my back as I hoped I wouldn't. I lay there, very still. I felt pain and I also felt my fingers, feet, and other extremities. As I realized why the face had been familiar, the light clicked back on, and I found myself surrounded by nine badgers sitting around me. They did not look as menacing without the glowing eyes. Their jaws still dripped a little, and their canines did look a little unusually long and sharp, but otherwise, they appeared rather calm and...cute. They were American Badgers. I didn't know why this detail held any relevance at this time, but it seemed worthwhile to note.
One of them spoke. "Let us go...please?"
"Please," another piped up, "Please? Is that the best you can think of?"
"Well you are not coming up with any new ideas."
"We're of the same mind you blasted..."
"Are you certain. It appears you are coming down with the mange."
"Why you little..."
I cleared my throat. They all stopped and turned to me. "What do /you/ want?" the badgers all said. I wondered if I should feign death, and if I didn't do that, what was there to do? Flail madly and hope to bop one of them on the snout before they ripped my throat out? Perhaps these were just manifestations of my mind. Perhaps all they would do would rip out my sanity. Or perhaps that was already a bygone conclusion and they were just here to report the news.
I figured inquiring for some logical explanation could do the least harm at this point.
"Who are you exactly?" I asked, trying to keep a squeak from my voice.
They all looked about at each other before they answered: "Vampire."
The badger on the far left trotted closer. "Before you say anything and make a fool of yourself, I'll save you the trouble of gibbering and confirm, we're not exactly what you expected from a vampire, eh?"
I shrugged.
"Just release us and we'll show you..." He checked my name tag, "...Lance."
"But...what..."
"I suppose we are being a bit cryptic, the bat, in the bag, could you please release...us? I'm sorry the pronoun use is a little tricky. It is a little disorienting for us. You might notice, I'm missing my left forepaw." The badger rose on his haunches, displaying his forepaws, or rather, forepaw, as he said, the left foreleg was missing the accompanying paw.
"Ur..."
"Just release us. I don't want to explain further, the rest of me is getting restless and I really don't want to go through the trouble of killing you. I smell it in your blood. You don't mean harm." He placed his right forepaw on my arm, and patted lightly.
I slowly lightened my white knuckled grip on the bag. I opened it. The bat flapped wildly, past my face, to the badger. A rustling of leathery wings turned to crackling bone and soon, the badger was flexing a regained left forepaw. "Much better. Now, could you direct us to the changing room?"
O O O
I paced outside the changing room with my cart. I ignored the rack of clothes waiting to be returned to their rightful locations. I usually made sport of the task on a normal work day. I ran from section to section, trying to place the clothes in the right sections, like pieces in a puzzle, wondering time and time again, why the store played games with my mind. Like why did the winter coats insisted on being spread between the men's, woman's, winter sports, /and/ clearance section?
I came up with a few principles when it came to the task. For one, the longer you looked, the more likely the place it was supposed to be was right behind you when you asked any given manager.
I did not have any principles about vampires.
This lack of principles kept me there waiting for the creature to emerge from his...changing room.
When he did, it was a human of short salt and pepper hair, a few days of grizzle around his face, dark glasses, and a faded navy letter jacket. He flashed a grin, and I saw a hint of the sharp canines remained. He handed me back the dressing room key, which I had given to the jaws of one of the badgers five minutes before. "Dusty, but I've had worse changing rooms before. Could you show me where I could find sweaters? It's getting a little nippy outside."
I led the way. Had what happened just happened? There wasn't much hint in the man's face that it had. He glanced about the store with a cheerful curiosity, but that wasn't anything more strange than most customers. I ran over the events in my head and if I tried to look at them too closely, I felt my mind trying to escape by thinking about anything else.
"Lance!"
We both stopped. Hutch was stalking down the aisle, a blouse clutched in a hand. As he came up, he waved the blouse wildly in my face, "What is the meaning of this?"
"Ur..."
"I have been up at the front staring at this blouse for the past two hours!"
"...yes?"
"It was lying on the floor in the woman's section."
"...yes?"
"You were in the woman's section no more than an hour ago."
"...yes?"
"Are you mocking me?" he growled.
"No. No," I said it twice to defend myself from the glare that flared up at saying it the first time.
"You need to fix everything in every section. It needs to be perfect. What if a customer saw it? They would think our store is sloppy. No excuses. I don't need to hear them. I need to see results. I actually knocked this blouse to the floor on purpose, to test you. You need be more aware. Go over each section again and again and again and again..." Hutch said, hands gesturing wildly, waving the blouse like a battle flag. "What are you doing now?"
"I'm helping a customer find some sweaters."
Hutch suddenly looked past me, his expression changed to a warm smile, he gave a light wave to the Customer. "I hope you are finding what you need. Do you need any further assistance?"
"Lance is being a great help, thanks."
"I'll be up at the front if you need anything." Hutch shot another glare at me before turning on his heel, stalking around a corner and out of sight.
"Well, he's a jerk."
My shoulder's slumped. "A bit."
"A bit?"
"He's jerktastic. I rushed through the woman's section because I could feel his gaze trying to explode my head." Something occurred to me. "You know, it didn't seem he noticed you at first. He usually puts on a nicer face if he thinks a customer is watching."
"Ah, one of my talents." He rose his glasses, the eyes behind them were not glowing red, or pitch black, or even golden. They were blueish. "I can hide between gaps in human perception. Humans, being as oblivious as they are, are really simple to hide from in plain sight. Unless I want them to see or they want to see me, they really don't notice me right away. It is much simpler than it sounds. I'm Brock, by the way," he presented a hand. I took it and he shook. The grip was strong, the skin was warm.
He released and looked where Hutch had headed. "I swear I've seen that fellow before. Not sure where. I'm sure it will come to me. Anyway, I suppose you have questions to ask."
"What would I ask?"
"Anything besides if I sparkle in sunlight and I think you'd be safe."
I looked him over. "Mind if I straighten up some clothes while I ask? I'd help me relax."
He nodded and I headed into the boy's section and began to straighten sweatshirts. "So...badgers?"
"I thought you might ask that. I suppose I don't have to say to you that vampires are not quite what myth makes us out to be. We are much more practical. Though part of me can't help but drool that it seems you have a cut on your elbow, I really have no impulse to pounce you and rip your arm off. I'd be lying if the thought didn't cross my mind."
I focused on the sweatshirts. He placed a napkin in front of my face. I took it and wiped my elbow.
"Really. Humans are a little too gamey these days. Especially with eating habits as they are. I can sense the grease from KFC on your skin. Humans used to be more lean and fresh and really, we need to think of ourselves in this health conscious climate."
I moved onto the jean cubbies.
"In the first place though, humans have never been our choice of blood resource. As I said, we are more sensible than that. We don't like being murderers. Too messy. We just have...iron insufficiencies that need to be managed."
I dared a glance at Brock. He was licking his lips.
"Dare I ask?"
He smiled. "Rodents."
"Rodents?"
"You know. Mice, rats, squirrels, groundhogs. This is where the badger part comes in. Most vampires have two forms: one is usually a species of bat and the other is usually a species of large or medium sized mammal."
"...why were you nine badgers?"
"Ah, there is the trick. We are bound, for some reason or another, to the law of conservation of matter. Therefore, I must become an amount of badgers that is equal to my mass as a human. The same goes for bats, though I must say, it is tricky to keep myself together as a bat. The more pieces, the more fragmented my mind becomes. You could tell when I was badgering you, correct?"
"A little."
He sighed. The sniffed. "Wait..." He opened his mouth, releasing a high-pitched squeak. He cocked his head to an angle, as if listening. He felt a hand against the wall of t-shirt cubes. Brock scanned the floor. He knelt down. He rubbed a finger against the floor. He licked it. He rose. "Did someone die here?"
"What?"
"Did I die here?"
"What do you mean?"
He came forward and stared down at me. "You know what I mean."
I remembered, the memory coming back, Hitch swinging that broom a few weeks ago, me coming around the corner with a bag, in hopes to capture the bat. Seeing the blur and the sickening thwack.
"Oh no..."
O O O
"A customer wants you."
"You help them," Hutch muttered, not even looking up from where he was doodling on a piece of scrap paper at the registers.
"He wants you though."
"Well, Lance, you tell them that I'm not available right now."
"Strange, you don't look that busy."
Hutch looked up, startled at a voice besides my own. The supposed customer waved at him. "I just wanted to know the specifics of the methods used by your company that keep the prices so low here."
Hutch, though flushed, collected himself, "Oh, it's about...us...buying in high volume."
"Ah, and what does the label 'Made in Swazieland' suggest? I was wondering if you would come with me to the pleather section. I think that my questions would have more weight if we weren’t engulfed by the subtle smells of formaldehyde."
I even rose my brow at this, but tried to hide it. I noted the clenching of fists behind the vampire's back.
Hutch appeared confused, but his talent of slipping out of the grips of having to 'do something' did not appear to be working this time.
"Lance..." he attempted.
"No, I believe that a manager would be the only person that would be able to answer my questions."
"Assistant manager...actually..." Hutch said.
"That will do," the vampire said. "To the pleather section?"
Hutch flashed a fiery look at me before he said, "Watch the registers." He then walked off with the vampire. I watched until they turned a corner into the women's section. I walked up to the front and sat behind the register's counter. I poked at the dust underneath the registers, I checked the receipt rolls were stocked, I had just started sweeping when Hutch reappeared. His usually impeccable polo had gaping rips, his hair was ravaged, his eyes were crazed.
"WHAT SIZE SHIRT WOULD FIT A BADGER?"
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me...if...a badger...the kids section...it..." He kept twitching, his mouth kept moving but stopped saying words, he kept shifting looks behind him. "I...I..."
"Are you alright?" I said, continuing to sweep.
"You can close the store, right?"
"I guess."
"There were no sales. You know how to count the money. Here, put this forty-two bucks back into the till. I need to go."
I looked at the crumpled ones and fives he had placed on the counter. "Oh. I can do that."
"Yes. Yeah. I...I...yes."
And with that, Hutch left, running.
The vampire, or rather, some badgers came plodding up. I kept sweeping as they came behind the counter. All nine badgers lined up and sat down, watching me work, their snouts following the progress of the broom. After I had brushed the dirt into the dustpan, the badger on the left sneezed as I emptied it into the garbage.
"So, feel liberated?" I ventured.
"Yes," all six badgers said.
"Dare I ask what transpired?"
"Do you really wanna know?" they all asked.
"...no."
"Some things are best left to the imagination," the badger to the far right said, spreading his paws.
"But I suppose that is worse...depending upon the person." the second badger said, rubbing his chin.
"I'll just assume you gave him a big hug...with your teeth."
"Ooo, very close," the fourth badger said, before the fifth badger whacked him across the back of the head.
"Do you think this will change him at all?"
"Naw, he'll still be a jerk," the sixth badger said, "But, I will predict he will have a hilarious reaction if you ever say 'badgerbadgerbadger' around him. Use that power for special occasions."
"I shall keep that in mind. So, is that it?"
The badgers all brought a paw to their maw's in thought. "You know," the fifth one said, "About those t-shirts in the kids section. Do you think you could get one that would fit..." He gestured to his fuzzy body.
I laughed and pulled out a tape measure from a drawer.
