Without a Sound

(Charlotte’s P.O.V.)

Mikey led me to the TV room at a faster pace than usual. He seemed to be in a good mood, which perplexed me even more. When I left, he’d been far past sullen. He’d almost seemed depressed. Now he was eager.

I thought he was going to take me to the TV, but instead he took me to the smaller screen on the desk. It had strange-looking typewriter keys at the foot of the screen. When Mikey saw the way I looked at it, her seemed slightly less earnest.

“I’ll try to explain it as best as I can,” he promised. “It’s called a computer. It’s like a mixture between a typewriter and a TV. When you type, it comes up on the screen instead of on paper.”

I nodded, but I didn’t really understand.

“Lots of things can be stored on computers. Movies, files, music, games, letters… There’s so much more. Anyways, it’s connected to a cable, just like old phones. The cable connects all the computers in the world. It’s called the internet. If I wanted to, I could send a letter to Europe in less than a minute.”

My eyes widened. That was a very fast letter. “Why are you telling me all this?” I asked.

Mikey got excited again. “I received an email – a letter on the computer – from the police chief in the part of the city we hunted in. He said he got our note and asked if there was anything I needed. At first I didn’t think of anything, but then I changed my mind.”

He pulled up an extra chair, motioning for me to sit on it, and continued, “I asked for police records of all women named Charlotte between the ages of twenty-five and thirty with blonde hair and grey eyes that died, was killed, or went missing between 1920 and 1960. He emailed them back to me, and guess who I found?”

My blood felt cold. “You found me?” I guessed quietly, not quite believing it. Was that even possible?

Mikey nodded fervently. “I did. Look! There’s your picture.”

Sure enough, a picture of me was on the screen. I squinted, trying to prove it was false, but it was no use. It was me.

“You want me to read it to you?” he asked. “I didn’t read much yet.”

I was unable to answer. I just stared uselessly at my photograph.

He took my silence as a yes and read, “Charlotte White Banks. Born on February 3rd in 1919. Parents died in 1937 when she was 18. Worked as a high school teacher and author. Married Daniel Banks in 1940 at age 21. Had a son in 1941.”

He paused to look at me, but I felt dizzy. This couldn’t be me, even though I knew it was. I didn’t remember any of it.

When Mikey spoke again, he spoke more remorsefully. “Husband and son were killed by unnatural causes and she went missing in 1947.” Mikey looked troubled. “They say ‘unnatural causes’ when a vampire does the killing,” he explained.

I shuddered. My husband and son had been killed by a vampire, and I’d gone missing for sixty-three years.

“Your remains were never found, of course,” Mikey added at the end.

I looked into his eyes, and I felt empty. The hope that maybe I had something left was gone. I was completely alone, just like Mikey. I felt tears welling up in my eyes.

As soon as Mikey say this, he immediately picked me up and set me down on his lap on the couch. “Don’t cry, Charlotte,” he crooned. White. My last name was White.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” I sobbed. “I just don’t even remember them. Not one thing about them.”

Mikey pressed his cheek to my forehead and squeezed my hand. “Maybe that’s the problem,” he replied simply. “It must be horrible not remembering anything from your past.”

“All I remember is you,” I whimpered weakly, wrapping my arms around his neck and crying harder.

“Shh. It’s alright,” he murmured. “You don’t have to remember.”

He was right, of course. I didn’t have to. I could just remember Mikey and how much I loved him. I didn’t want to remember my husband and son. Then I would have to lose them. This ignorance was bliss compared to what he went through.

“You’re right,” I told him, wiping away my tears. “I’m lucky I don’t remember.”

He smiled wryly back at me. “It’s probably better,” he agreed. “Then he scowled and added, “But I did notice something strange.”

“What?” I asked, not having a clue what he was talking about.

“Both of our… cases are similar,” he pointed out. “Spouse and child killed, one vampire left to live. It might not be a coincidence. Maybe there’s a vampire serial killer.”

My eyebrows furrowed together. “It might be possible. How do we know for sure?”

Mikey didn’t speak. He just pulled me up and led me down the stairs and into the garage. He slowly opened a cabinet in the corner, pulling out a cardboard box that didn’t look that heavy. “Ivy painted the killer,” he explained softly while opening the box. “I keep it here because I don’t want it anywhere near me. I don’t know if you will recognize it even if he was the one that killed your family.”

He held up the small painting so that it faced me, and he could only see the back. I could understand that he didn’t want to see the man that killed his daughter and brought his family to an end.

As I looked at the picture, I realized how sick this guy had to be to go around killing people and making other people into killers. What disturbed me more was that I recognized him. I recognized the vampire that changed me, but not my own son. That was truly wrong.

I found that I hated this man – no, animal – more than anything in the world. Not because he killed my husband and son. Not even because he locked me in a tomb for sixty-three years. No, I hated him because he caused Mikey all this pain. I despised him for it. Mikey didn’t deserve any of it. He deserved love, a family, and happiness.

“That’s him,” I confirmed in a choked voice.

“I thought so,” Mikey mumbled, putting the painting carefully back in the box.

I saw something new, something alien in his eyes. It was an emotion far past hate or anger. It was a sharp blade of revenge, and it was eagerly waiting in its sheath, ready to be drawn at any moment. It almost scared me. Almost. Maybe it would have, but I almost felt like I had my own sword of revenge waiting to be drawn. Maybe it was just a dainty knife, but it was there.