The City

         I am called The Count. I am the protector of this city. It is my sworn duty to protect the innocent and bring the guilty to justice. I will bring order to the disorder, I will own the city through my good deeds. I am the hammer to the mean street’s anvil. I am the blade of justice that sweeps through the city in a crimson spray of glory. I am a modern day super hero. I am also a vampire.

         I was turned in the mid 1700’s in London by Count Von Whosiewhatsit. I never knew his name. I don’t think he meant to turn me. He dropped from a rooftop onto my back and sank his fangs into my neck. I tried to get him off, but he drove me to the ground. I sort of remember hearing some police yelling and blowing their whistles. This must have startled him, though I am not sure why, vampires are not afraid of whistles. He left me before I had been drained. When I regained consciousness, I felt terrible. It was three nights later when I drank from my first human neck. I had to learn all the ways of the vampire myself. I’m so happy that there are so many educational movies and novels about my kind available. I have since renounced my evil ways and will bring forth my salvation through my good deeds.

         I have even sewn my own costume. It’s all black, to camouflage with the night, leather pants, knee high leather boots, silk poet’s shirt to show of my amazing chest, with a bright red C in a bright red circle. The top of the C has been elongated to look like a fang. It’s my very clever idea. There is a sweeping, ankle length silk cape with an over sized, stand-up collar to add a bit of flair and drama to my outfit. The costume is completed by a black felt hat, think Zorro, with a large red feather in the hat band. I look amazing when standing on a rooftop in a light breeze. The cape flutters just perfectly.

         Tonight I am keeping watch on the Bank of the City from the roof of the building across the street. I know that there is a nefarious plot to remove good people’s hard earned money. There is all ways a plot in the city, especially when it comes to the bank.

         I pull the walkie talkie from my belt. “Half Pint are you in position yet?” I ask.

         There is a short pause and I hear what sounds like annoyance, but I know it is admiration. “I’m here. I asked you not to call me that.”

         “Nonsense, every sidekick needs a great name. You did not like Boy Blood, Little Sucker, Ed, OR Wilbur! Be glad I quit calling you Half Pint 7.0”

         Half pint is my seventh scion, er…sidekick. The others have all met, shall we say, unfortunate ends. Most of them died protecting me in the line of duty, only sidekick version 4.0 did not. He was running from the fight and when I threw the mugger away from his victim, he landed on my faithful sidekick. I had been telling him to run faster and watch where he was going.

         “Whatever. Why do you keep me up all night, and then expect me to watch over you and protect you all day? I need sleep to, you know.”

         “Yes, yes, yes. I know. You tell me every night. I never should have had the flat screen installed on the side of my coffin for your gamey things.”

         “They are video games, and if you expect me to be by your side day and night, I needed something to do. I didn’t ask you to put it on your coffin. You did that yourself.”

         My super amazing ultra sensitive hearing picked up the alarm at the bank.

         “Half Pint! I hear the alarm, I am going to investigate!”

         “Of course you hear the alarm! You are right across the street! Why not wait and see if the robbers come out the front door. That would make it much easier to catch them.”

         “You’re right, of course. I will wait.”

         Soon four men dressed in black with ski masks come rushing out of the building. I look down at them in disgust. It is a balmy evening; there is no need for the masks. Some people have no fashion sense at all.

         “Bring the batmobile around, Half Pint! I’m going in!”

         “I told you, you can NOT call our van the batmobile! That name is taken!”

         I turn to mist and float down to street level. It is such a great, dramatic way to make an entrance.

         I coil my misty tendrils around the evil doer’s legs and arms. They pause in their escape, looking at each other in fear and confusion. Now is my big moment. I give a little turn and re-form in front of them.

         They stare at me in utter fear, and then begin to laugh. This is not the reaction I have come to expect. Maybe they don’t know who I am.

         I reach to my sides to grab the cape to spread it open wide and dramatically. I grab only my leg, my bare leg. I have again forgotten that my clothes do not turn to mist with me. I am standing in front of evil, nude.

         I pause for effect, and then rush into their midst. I am punching and kicking and giving my best Bruce Lee yells. I have found that punches hurt more if you can get the yells just right. It is a matter of moments and the robbers are all unconscious at my feet. I finally hear the sound of the batmobi…um, van. Half Pint drives it around the corner. He has a look of admiration on his face and he is smiling at my victory. He stops next to me.

         “You did the mist thing again didn’t you? Why can’t you remember that your clothes don’t change with you?” He sighs, shaking his head, clearly concerned about my well being.

         “I’ll be right back.” I tell him and jump with my super explosive jumpy legs up to the roof. I quickly dress, and drop back to the street, letting my cape flow behind me. I look amazing.

         Half Pint is hanging up his cell phone. “I just informed the police that the robbers are here. They are on the way. We need to go.”

         “Yes, I believe we should be off from this place, Half Pint. The police will be here soon,” I tell him.

         “Great idea, I wish I had thought of it.” He sighs. He tries, but he is not really good at the crime fighting stuff yet. I have to do all the heavy thinking!

         I climb in the van and we’re off. Half Pint careful not to spin the wheels of the van, we don’t want any evidence left behind.

         “I think this calls for a victory celebration” I say. “Take me to the blood bank, I am thirsty.”

         “Of course you are,” sighs Half Pint. I really must break him of that habit. “Why don’t you try something new and actually go help some people tonight?”

         “I just helped a whole bunch of people!” I cry indignantly. “My true goal is not to help people as much as to clean out the toxicity of the city, bring order to the disorder. If I am able to accomplish this, I will be so revered and worshiped, that I will be the most sought after person in the city! Imagine all the parties I would be invited to, the grand balls and galas, even the pro-am golf tournament. Maybe I could play with Tiger? If that is not a noble goal, I don’t know what is.”

         “Golf tournament? Won’t that be difficult to play in, seeing as you have a pretty severe reaction to sunlight?”

         “It will be changed to a night time event, of course!” How can he be so dense about these things? It is so obvious.

         Half Pint continues to drive, muttering under his breath and gripping the steering wheel hard. I don’t really understand why he is so tense all the time.

         “Here we are. Your favorite place to visit, every night.”

         “Well, it is the least the city can do for all the help I have given them all these years. I will be back in a little bit.”

         I get out of the van and walk to the front door of the city blood bank. It’s locked, which is no big deal for me. I concentrate for a second and turn to mist. I hear half pint yelling something, but I am moving under the door all ready. I rematerialize inside and go to put my hand in my pocket.

         Bugger! I left my clothes outside. I must remember that small detail. It is of no consequence. I walk down through the lobby into the back rooms where the refrigerators are kept. I open one, grab a bag of blood, and push my fangs into it. It is cold and I must be careful not to drink too fast. The last time I got a “brain freeze” I was unable to do anything for a full ten minutes until it subsided.

         It takes six full bags to quench my thirst. I know that the citizens use this to save themselves, but I do so much good. I’m sure they don’t mind their small tribute to me. I look at it as the seeds of a great partnership. I eat the seeds, and the partnership grows, nurtured in my good will.

         I sit and relax for a few minutes at one of the desks. I enjoy the quiet and solitude, but alas, the filth and disorder of the city do not pause. I have more work to do. I stride to the door, turn to mist, flow back under the door, and rematerialize on the other side.

         Half Pint is waiting with my clothes, wadded up in his hands. He really needs much more work. How can I bring order to the city in a wrinkled outfit? I climb into the passenger side of the van.

         “Come, Half Pint, we have evil to thwart!”

         He starts the van, puts into gear and mutters something about him thwarting my evil.

         We are off, the wind in my hair and the city can sleep a little better with The Count on duty.