Tales from the Mat: The Vampire Staph
Tales from the Mat: The Vampire Staph
Welcome to the third and final installment of Tales from the Mat, the Fighters Market Halloween blog series.
For all of those who believed the Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu academy to be a warm, safe place… we’re here with a word of caution. Be vigilant dear reader, because while your academy might be fine… now… there are dangers that lurk all around. Join us as we show you exactly what can happen when you play leglocks with strangers.
Read on, if you dare…. Muahahahahhahahah.
The Newcomer
It’s a cool October afternoon when Kyle gets off of work. Windows down, enjoying the crisp autumn air, he’s heading to the jiu-jitsu academy to train. It’s been a long week and he needs to engage in some simulated murder.
As he parks in his usual spot, he notices a vehicle in the lot with a Louisiana license plate. A new guy.
As inconspicuously as possible, Kyle scans the mats for any unfamiliar faces as he sets his gear bag along the wall. The stealth is unnecessary. He locks eyes with the man.
He’s an average looking white guy in all other regards but one: the man’s eyes shine with an eerie gleam. Almost red. Unnerved, Kyle glances quickly away.
“He’s probably stoned,” Kyle thinks, trying to calm his escalating heartbeat.
The head instructor introduces him as “Andrew” and welcomes the new black belt into the gym. Andrew’s lips barely twitch, in what could have been called a friendly smile. Maybe.
As the head instructor begins demonstrating the technique, Kyle feels the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He glances over the heads of the instructor and his uke, finding Andrew’s unblinking gaze fixated on him. Not on his face. But on his legs.
“What is with this guy?” Kyle thinks, unsettled.
The Suspicious Red Bump
Kyle successfully avoids Andrew for drilling, but as soon as the music cranks up for live rounds, he looks up to find the man looming over him, mere inches away. There is no escaping.
“Want to roll?” Andrew asks, a slight Cajun tilt to his words.
What can he do? Andrew is a black belt, and Kyle a lowly purple belt. Yeah, he might be able to get away with skipping warmups, but he can’t refuse to roll with an upper belt. It’s just not done. Not unless he wants to look scared… which in fact, he is. But that’s beside the point.
Kyle stutters something to the affirmative.
The buzzer rings. Andrew pulls guard, his intense gaze locked on Kyle’s legs, hungrily it seems.
Uncomfortable, Kyle looks down, away from those sinister looking eyes. That’s when he sees it: an angry red spot, on the inside of Andrew’s thigh, partially concealed by long, curly hair.
Noooooo. No, no, no. That can’t be what he thinks it is… surely not.
He freezes in place. Horror stories of rampant infections, hospital stays and time off the mat play through his mind.
The paralyzing fear is his undoing. Andrew takes that moment to invert underneath him, snatching Kyle’s leg into honey hole. The bite around his thigh is inhumanly strong…
But then… then he feels a very different sensation.
Bitten
A bite – an actual bite?? – coming from the vicinity of the suspicious red bump on Andrew’s leg, where it pressed skin-to-sweaty-skin against Kyle’s own.
A silent scream of shock, of pain, echoes through Kyle’s mind. His wide eyes fix in terror upon the other man.
He isn’t sure which is more terrifying: the thought of how - how?? - the spot is possibly attaching itself to Kyle’s leg, chewing into his flesh, or the look of abject pleasure that washes across Andrew’s features. It smoothes the lines of his face, making him appear younger, somehow.
“Surely, I’m imagining it,” Kyle thinks, frantic.
Suddenly, Andrew’s thin, bloodless lips stretch across his face in glee as he reaches back, hooking Kyle’s heel with the blade of his forearm. He locks it tight, a mere second before slamming his hips into the side of Kyle's leg.
This time, the scream is audible.
The other students gather around, as Kyle writhes on the floor, holding his knee. Andrew, unperturbed, sits off to the side. His eyes gleam brighter, blood red.
The Transformation
Kyle is driven to his home, refusing the offer to be taken straight to the hospital. “It’s not that bad,” he lies. It’s that bad. But he doesn’t have health insurance.
He lies on his couch, a couple frozen slabs of steak – the only thing he had – wrapped around his knee with a t-shirt. He examines the angry red spot on his thigh, touching it gingerly.
He doesn’t feel so well. Besides the throbbing pain in his destroyed knee, he feels feverish. Sweat beads across his forehead. His skin prickles. He shivers, then shudders.
He hobbles to the medicine cabinet and downs a half-empty bottle of nighttime flu remedy. A shower, maybe? He stands as long as he can under the scalding water, still shaking uncontrollably.
He scrubs the red spot. It bleeds. Then, suddenly, it stops. The crimson droplets almost seem to be sucking back into the welt.
“I’m hallucinating,” he thinks. Bed. That’s what he needs.
He crawls out of the shower on all fours… all threes, actually, dragging his injured leg behind him. Halfway across his room, just as his hand reaches up to the mattress, everything goes black.
The next morning, he awakes. His knee feels fine. Perfect even. Better than it ever has. He feels great. Better than great… amazing. Powerful. And… hungry.
Epilogue
Three months later, Kim rolls up to the building in her white 4-Runner. She’s heard a lot about jiu-jitsu from her old roommates, and she’s finally ready to give it a try.
Parking, she looks up at the sign.
“10th Planet, huh? I wonder what that’s about.”
She grabs her bag and walks through the open front door. She looks around.
All heads turn toward her, as one. Their eyes glow bright red, intense, staring at her ankles.
“Welcome,” Kyle says silkily, at her side. She stifles the feeling of trepidation, as he guides her deeper into the academy.
Enjoyed this tale? Don’t forget to read the first two installments: