Date:         Fri, 19 Nov 1993 10:21:33 EST
 
 
 
 
                            Memories
 
                     A Forever Knight Story
 
                         By Lynne Levine
 
 
 
 
     Tawny Teller smiled as she sat in her apartment watching the
11:00 news.  She had done a good job on her latest assignment: the
elderly and their pets.  Another film clip of hers had aired;
another story would be added to her portfolio.
     After a commercial break, the news continued.  "And now for a
follow-up on a story we ran several months ago," Melinda Maple, a
perky blond anchorwoman with perfect teeth was saying brightly.
"Back in March we reported a curious phenomenon.  Numerous
psychiatrists around the globe had come forth with the same story:
clients claiming to have been vampire victims.  Ludicrous?  Well,
not according to a new organization here in Toronto.  They call
themselves "Vampire Victims Anonymous."
     The scene shifted to a room full of people.  Their faces were
shadowed to preserve anonymity.  "I read an article in the Enquirer
about someone who'd seen a man who could fly--a man with red eyes
and pointy white fangs," someone was saying.  "It sounded silly to
me at first, but then I started having memories.  I, too, had seen
a vampire.  It was the scariest thing that's ever happened to me."
     "That is a typical story you would hear if you attended a
meeting of "Vampire Victims Anonymous," a male voice intoned as the
camera continued to pan the meeting room to show people nodding
their heads in sympathy.  "Much like UFO abductees, these people
truly believe that what they are remembering really happened to
them.  And they are seeking support."
     Tawny was no longer listening to the TV journalist's words.
The story had sent a shiver of recognition down her spine.  It
wasn't exactly a memory.  She'd been plagued by a recurring dream
in which was she being pursued by two very sinister looking men
with long fangs.  No matter how fast she ran, the men would keep
closing in on her until finally her terror would awaken her.  How
many times had she had that dream now?  Shuddering, she reached for
the remote control to change the channel, hoping to remove the
disturbing thoughts from her mind by merely pressing a button.
     Across town, in a nightclub called The Raven, several people
gathered around a TV screen were having a very different response
to the news broadcast about "Vampire Victims Anonymous".
     "Wow, like how do I meet one of these vampires?" breathed a
young mortal woman dressed completely in black.
     Janette rolled her eyes.  Some of her clients were certainly
enamored of the fantasy of death--as long as it was just a fantasy.
She saw Alma move a few steps toward the woman in black.  In an
instant Janette's hand was on Alma's shoulder, her nails digging in
slightly.
     Alma turned to see Janette's expression of "don't even think
about it."  Alma flashed back a mock-innocent look of "who me?"
But she knew to back off.
     "You vant to meet a vampire?  Vell, here I am, " said a mortal
male, also dressed entirely in black.  He opened his mouth to
reveal two obviously plastic fangs.
     Several onlookers laughed, though mortals and vampires had
very different reasons to find this funny.
     Janette didn't think it was funny at all.  The news broadcast
wasn't amusing either.  She was old enough to know such things
could only mean trouble.  A popular song began and she was relieved
to see the crowd disperse as people headed toward the dance floor.
 
     Tawny was running through the deserted halls of the TV
station.  A few feet behind her, two zombie-like creatures
approached, their mouths hanging open, long fangs gleaming.  She
darted into a staircase and hurried to the floor below.  There they
were again coming toward her!  She turned, running faster, hearing
their steady plodding footsteps behind her.  Suddenly that nice
detective from the police department, Nick Knight, appeared in
front of her.
     "Oh, thank heavens," she sighed aloud.
     As if in answer, Detective Knight opened his mouth and
snarled, his teeth as sharp and pointed as those of her pursuers.
     Tawny screamed...and found herself awake in her bed, the
blankets twisted as if she had been struggling to escape them.
     She sat up in bed, trying to remember.  Detective
Knight...yes, he had been there.  And she had seen him fly!  Her
mouth hung open as that memory returned.  It *had* happened.  She
was almost sure of it now.
 
     Janette was seated in her usual spot, sipping from her wine
goblet.  She smiled as she saw Nick weaving his way across the
dance floor toward her.
     "And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" she asked
with a smile, kissing him hello.  She made sure there was just a
little of the wine-blood mixture on her lips so that Nick was sure
to taste what he was missing.  Ah, he was so much fun to torment!
     Nick smiled back at her, unconsciously licking his lips.
"I've had a most disturbing phone call," he said, sliding onto the
bar stool next to hers.
     "Oh?"
     "Remember Tawny Teller?"
     Janette nodded.
     "She phoned me early this evening, as I was getting ready for
work." He looked around the bar to be sure there was no one within
hearing range, then lowered his voice.  "Tawny is saying she knows
who I am.  What I am.  She told me she plans to go to  'Vampire
Victims Anonymous', whatever that is, and that they will help her
remember more.  Janette, she is threatening to expose me."
     "I thought you took care of her, Nickolah," Janette said
sharply.
     "I did," Nick insisted.
     Janette thought about it for a moment.  "Occasionally the
hypnosis does not last.  You know that, Nickolah.  Only now,
instead of an isolated person remembering and being thought to be
crazy if he tells anyone, there is the television and the
newspapers letting such a person know he or she is not the only
one."  She laughed sarcastically.  "Once again this modern
technology gets in our way."
     "So, what do I do?  Corner her and make her forget again?  As
if she hasn't been through enough."  Nick shook his head.   No
matter how hard he tried to avoid it, he was still causing others
to suffer.
     "And if you don't make her forget, and she succeeds in getting
empirical evidence against you, you *know* what will happen next,"
Janette reminded him.  She lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply as
she waited for Nick to consider her words.
     "I guess you're right," he said finally.
     "Of course I am right," she answered.
     "I've got to be going."  He kissed her again, and stood.
"Thank you," he added.
     "Anytime, cheri," she said as she watched him leave.  She
sensed reluctance on his part, and that worried her.  Nicholah's
concern for mortals would be his downfall one of these days.
 
     After glancing at the newspaper clipping one last time to make
sure she'd read the date, time and location correctly, Tawny walked
into a dimly lit church basement room, where several people were
already seated on folding chairs that had been placed in a circle.
Tawny cleared her throat.  "Excuse me, is this...Vampire Victims
Anonymous?"  She steeled herself for laughter if she was in fact in
the wrong place.
     "Sure is," a middle aged gentleman answered.
     Relieved, Tawny sat down, draping her jacket over the back of
the chair.  A young red-haired woman handed her a flier that
explained the group's purpose.  She glanced at it quickly, then
folded it, sliding it into her purse.
     "Hey, aren't you Tawny Teller?  From the 11:00 news?" a man
piped up.
     Tawny stiffened.  Great.  She could see the tabloid headline
now: "TV Journalist believes she's seen a vampire!"
     "Now, Henry, remember the rules of this group," the woman who
had given her the flier admonished.
     "Anonymity must be preserved.  What is said in this room stays
in this room," Henry said, obviously from rote memory.
     "That's correct.  We must all feel comfortable sharing here.
Now, my name is Martha," the woman continued.  "Tonight I will be
telling my story."
     Tawny sat quietly and listened, feeling more and more relieved
as the meeting continued.  Maybe she wasn't crazy, after all.  She
decided not to tell them that she'd actually made accusations
toward someone she suspected of being a vampire.  She knew that had
been a bad idea.  But these people would understand how she could
have done something so impulsive, how fear had made her lose sight
of common sense.  Yes, she had definitely come to the right place.
     As she stepped out of the church, a blast of cold air hit her.
She huddled into her light jacket.  Tawny hated when the weather
changed so suddenly.  She could see her breath in the night air as
she headed toward her car.
     A pretty, dark-haired young woman approached her.  "Excuse me,
is this the location of the "Vampire Victims Anonymous" meeting?"
     "Yes, it is," Tawny answered.  "But I'm afraid you just missed
it.  It was from 7 to 8pm."
     "Ah, then I came all this way for nothing,"  The woman said,
a trace of a foreign accent in her speech.
     Tawny felt lightheaded suddenly as the woman looked directly
into her eyes.  A voice that seemed almost to be inside her head
was saying, "You had some bad dreams.  That is all."
     "Bad dreams," Tawny repeated, transfixed.
     "They do not mean anything.  You will not have them any more.
You will forget."
     "Forget," she repeated.
     Tawny blinked.  She had completely blanked out for a moment.
She must be more exhausted than she had realized.  "I'm sorry.
What were you saying?"
     "I asked if I would see you at the next meeting," the woman
replied.
     "No, I don't think so."  What had ever possessed her to go to
that meeting?  Had she thought there was a story in it somewhere?
There was no such thing as vampires.  This poor woman, actually
believing such a thing.
     "Well, have a good evening," the woman said.
     "You too."
 
     Janette had a satisfied smile on her face as she watched Tawny
unlock her car and get in.  Nickolah was going to owe her for this
one.