Eleven: The Broken and Defective

Eleven: The Broken and Defective

A Chapter by Faria C

§The Broken and Defective§


When I arrived at the new prison camp, I noticed that there were numerous elderly people like the lady in the kitchen of the last camp. I’d always had a weakness for the very young and very old, and a handicap added to that in a person made me wish more than ever that I could help.


            It was night by now, and I was just settling in to my new bunk bed without a blanket, when I saw a flash through the tiny window by the next bed. I peered closer, and jumped in alarm when I heard a gunshot, followed by cackling laughter.


            What was that weird flash? Couldn’t have been lightning…


            I forced myself not to dwell on it, and for God’s sake, go to sleep already, Eileen.


            Since there was no more air travel available for human and vampires alike who weren’t part of the air force, it always took long journeys to transport prisoners to different camps. Besides that�"


            For the last time, I should get to sleep.


            In a few more hours, I accomplished the difficult task.


            The next morning, I surprisingly didn’t wake up to the intimidating sound of an air horn or a megaphone. When I asked if anyone had the time, an elderly man informed me it was half past ten.


            I’m so dead…


            Then I remembered where I was.


            It’s a camp for the physically and mentally disabled; that’s why they don’t have to do forced labour, I recalled Mrs. Miller saying.


            Dare I hope for better food than crap-soup and expired bread?


            Breakfast consisted of crap-stew and expired cheese. I didn’t know which was worse, but it wasn’t like I had a say either way. They even provided us with cold and old tea, but that was better than no drink at all. I just hoped my stomach was immune to food poisoning by now. And that the tea didn’t contain any drugs.


            About a half hour later, my bunkmate finally climbed down the squeaky wooden ladder and sat down to eat her “food,” which had been placed beside mine with the number of her bunk written on a paper and stuck to the stew bowl. She had light blonde hair that was presently messy�"bed-head and all�"and bright blue eyes. Her nose had a sparkling stud in it, and her stature was lean and tall. She actually looked to be about my age, so I was encouraged to try out some of my vital questions on her.


            “So…I guess you’re sharing the same bunk as me,” I began tentatively.


            “Guess so,” she said without looking away from her stew.


            “I just got here last night; my name’s Eileen Vale, by the way.”


            Finally, she looked up at me, catching me off guard by the rings around her blue eyes.


            “You could pass for a vampire,” she stated, stupefying me further.




            “Not like that. I just mean, you’re not a complete eyesore, you know?”


            “Or that I look half-dead and my skin’s almost translucent,” I added, coming out of my stupor.


            She laughed. “No, you’re good-looking, I can tell. You must’ve been even prettier before being taken by them. They might wanna recruit you.”


            “What do you mean?”


            “I don’t get how the humans have any cities at all. I mean, why aren’t they turning us or killing us off? They’re stronger and faster, and probably have better weapons…” she trailed off.


            “Come to think of it, it really doesn’t make sense,” I agreed. “I’ve never really thought about it…Man, am I ever glad you speak English.”


            “What country do you think we’re in?” she retorted. “What, all the other suckers have been speaking French to you in your other camp? Let me guess, Quebec?”


            “Um…not exactly? Well, my last camp�"also my first�"had mostly English-speakers, from what I could tell. But before that…let’s just say you were right. They probably do have better weapons than us.”


            That caught her attention with a fishing net; she even went so far as putting away her half-finished paper-cup of tea.


            “What do you mean by that?” she demanded.


            “Well, I was kinda…in a laboratory, where this kooky vampire doctor injected me with weird s**t and kept me strapped down to a table�"”


            “Get out.”


            “I’m serious. He kept like twenty monitors tracking my progress�"or deterioration, I guess�"and scribbled results down in this little notebook he kept.”


            “How’d you escape?” she wanted to know.


            “I didn’t; some other vampires came and kinda forcibly took me, claiming that the Transylvanian Wall needed more humans building it.”


            “That’s where you were before coming here?”


            “Yeah; it was way worse than here.”


            After relating the gory details of the working conditions and explaining “shifts” to her, she seemed impressed as well as intrigued. Of course, I also told her of the secret-code-between-bricks rumour, and her ears perked up all the more.


            “I’m Madison, by the way. Madison Walker.”


            “Cool name�"“


            “You can call me Addie.”


            “What?” I asked.


            “I said, you can call me Maddie,” she repeated, looking at me like I was crazy, which may not have been far from the truth.


            Maybe then the reason for my being here would be justified�"mentally unstable Eileen. Nope, not a nice ring to it.


            “Um, yeah…I thought you said ‘Addie.’ She was my best friend,” I explained.


            “ ‘Was’? Oh, man, I’m sorry,” she apologized mistakenly.


            “No, no1 I mean…she’s not…I just meant, the last time I saw her was…a long time ago. I totally lost track of time after getting kidnapped that first time.”


            Adelheid is not dead.


            I didn’t want to talk about that right now.


            “So, what’s your story?” I asked Madison.


            “I’m faking physical defectiveness; my boyfriend got me in here.”


            “Ah. Just like me,” I said.


            “Your boyfriend’s a vampire?”


            “What?” I practically shrieked. “I don’t have a boyfriend. But you�"”


            “Oh yeah. Here comes the moment of silent shock. So my boyfriend’s a vampire. Doesn’t make him less him,” she defended. “He just turned recently, and already has connections for being on the other side.”


            “Oh. I didn’t mean…I mean, I’m not discriminative against them or anything�"”


            “I am,” she stated. “So’s Ian.”


            “You know…I met a vampire soldier once who was actually quite…humane.”


            She looked at me like I’d grown a fourth head.


            “Dude, just no. Did you ever notice how the word ‘humane’ has ‘human’ in it?”


            “But I’m serious,” I insisted. “He actually took a bullet in my place, shot by one of his own fellow soldiers.”


            “Was he a recently-turned immortal?” she inquired.


            “Beats me. But I’m just saying. Maybe vampires can have hearts too�"not most of them, but maybe some.”


            When she stared blankly at me, I continued on my little speech.


            “Remembered how when there were only humans and the vampires were still in hiding, before they came out and told us they existed, remember how there were evil people? Humans who murdered and hurt other humans?”


            “I don’t know, man. Maybe you’re right.”


            “Maybe Ian will help other humans, and they’ll be shocked like I was when that vampire soldier helped me,” I suggested.


            “You’re alright, Vale. Maybe you’re not completely whack like I thought you were,” she ‘complemented’ me.


            “Um. Thanks.”


            “Don’t mention it.”


•••                                •§•                               •••


When it was almost time for bed�"almost 11:00pm, Madison told me to tell her about my life before the kidnapping.


            “Before we get to that, do you by any chance have secret hiding place for a piece of paper?” I asked her.


            She got up and pulled down her pillow cover, exposing a rip in the pillow. I shoved in my piece of paper and inserted it into the opening.


            “What’s on there, anyway?” she questioned curiously.


            “The information I wrote down from the lab�"Dr. Creepy’s last name and stuff,” I told her.


            “It’ll be safe there, don’t worry.”


            After thanking her, I proceeded to tell her my ‘story.’ 


© 2013 Faria C

My Review

Would you like to review this Chapter?
Login | Register

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Added on January 14, 2013
Last Updated on January 14, 2013


Faria C
Faria C

Wouldn't you like to know , Canada

When someone asks me to tell them about myself, I panic and have a little identity crisis where I wonder, "Oh God, who am I?!" Bruh, don't do that to me. Well, I'm Faria (which rhymes with "area").. more..