Ida’s
Vampire
“Help me! Oh, for God’s sake,
somebody help me! There’s a vampire in my room!”
It was 4:15 in the morning, and
up until that moment, things had been quiet at Candlelight Ridge Care Center.
Night nurse Ace Murray, who had dozed while working on his never-ending
charting, snapped to attention, banging his knee on the desk as he jerked
awake. Security guard Thomas Octavian, who had ducked into the day room for “a
wee kip” before starting his last set of rounds, came to with a snort from his
uncomfortable position on a loveseat that was far too small to properly support
a man with the build of a Sumo wrestler.
Thomas groaned as he wiped drool
from the side of his mouth. He grabbed a sip of water, pulled his long, brown
hair back in a ponytail, and hurried to see what the fuss was about.
A birdlike woman with wild
jet-black hair stood in the hallway, screaming. Ace gently touched her arm.
“Here now, Ida, what’s it all
about?” he inquired.
“There’s a bloody vampire in my
room, young fellow!” Ida insisted. “Ooh, I’m not sure that even a big, strong
policeman like this chap will be able to help us.”
“’Course I can, Mum,” Thomas
insisted. “I always keep a wooden stake handy in case of vampires.”
“Well, I don’t think a wooden
stake will help you with this vampire. It’s made of Christmas lights!”
“That certainly is unusual,” Ace
agreed. “I suppose we’ll have to use magic rather than wooden stakes. You wait
in the hall for just a moment, Ida. Tom and I will pop in and survey the
situation.”
In the room, Thomas took what
appeared to be a red marble from his pocket. Ace intoned arcane words and waved
his hand. A group of symbols in the shape of an arch became visible on the
ceiling. The marble glowed, revealing the image of a cluster of lights emerging
through the gate.
“She wasn’t imagining things,”
Ace said. “Let me call Casey down here. He can keep Ida calm whilst we seal off
this gate.”
“Mate, yer the one with the
calming demeanor,” Thomas countered. “Casey’s a 58-year-old eager beaver. He’ll
want to be part of the cleanup work. Let him help me slap a psychic band-aid on
the situation while you mellow Ida out and get to work on your incident
report.”
“Yeah, when yer right, yer
right,” Ace agreed. “C’mon, Ida, what do you say we go have a cuppa?”
ABOUT THE STORY
Candlelight Ridge Care Home in London's storied Crouch End
borough is being infiltrated by threatening entities. Gerry Clifford is aware
of these entities and their bad intentions, but who will believe a man with
dementia?
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Perhaps we SHOULD believe people we classify as having dementia. It is only a matter of perspective after all...
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