ASSISTED DYING

By Dino Pollard

There are some people who were dealt great cards by life. And then there are others who were dealt an extremely shitty hand. Many of the residents of Shadywood Manor, an assisted living residency, fell under that latter category.

Particularly their latest resident. The son of a prostitute, he was born in England in a Soho whorehouse. The doctor who delivered him was a vampire—one who fed on his mother moments before his birth. It altered the child’s physiology and he was saved by the intervention of his mother’s friends.

He was raised by the whores of Madame Vanity’s Brothel and when he was nine, he met Jamal Afari, a jazz musician and a vampire hunter. The young child was trained how to hunt vampires and despite a period of youthful rebellion, he eventually took it upon himself to wage a one-man war against the vampire menace.

His birth name was to be Eric Brooks. But for as long as he can remember, he has gone by another name. The name which was spoken in hushed and fearful whispers by those he hunts.

Blade.

His life has not been an easy one. He has traveled the world in search of the vampire menace. He has stood by and watched as friends, allies and lovers were killed in response to his actions. He’s been a victim himself, manipulated by those he hunts and even those he has called friend. And now, he has been transformed into something that is not human nor vampire.

His recent exploits were not kind. Blade’s last memory was tracking down what had been known as Devil’s Dust, supposedly ash from the remains of Varnae, the first vampire. That was when he was ambushed by the Officers of Night, a pair of vampires who were searching for the Devil’s Dust. They hit him with a taser and when he awoke, he was in Shadywood.

He found it difficult to move. Difficult to even speak. The other residents were all withered and decrepit. The staff, young and energetic. Beautiful. But there were no windows. Nothing but solid brick.

No sunlight.

Every morning he was woken up and put into a wheelchair by an orderly. He was then taken to a common room where he sat and watched recurring episodes of The Price is Right, Gilligan’s Island, Matlock and countless other television shows for several hours straight.

When he pissed himself, no one ever noticed. Even if they had, they wouldn’t care. He wasn’t even fed enough to shit. Just kept alive by the bare minimum. IV drips. The drugs kept him sustained. And every night at the same time, they took him for his “sessions” with Doctor Benway. He knew it was at night, because they always came for him just as the credits rolled on Wheel of Fortune.

How long he’d been here was a question even he could not answer. Daytime TV had the tendency to blur the days together. There weren’t any clocks that he had noticed. And he couldn’t even judge by what hair growth he had, because there wasn’t even a single mirror that he’d seen.

While Pat Sajak and Vanna White joked and bid the viewing audience at home and in the studio a heartfelt goodnight, a large shadow fell over Blade. He weakly turned his neck to the side and cast his eyes up. An orderly with short black hair and a bad goatee towered over him with a smile.

“Evenin’ Eric. Ready for your session with Doctor Benway?”

Blade simply turned his gaze back to the television set. The orderly—Fritz—stepped behind the former vampire hunter. He lifted the stoppers and pulled Blade’s wheelchair back. Fritz turned it around and pushed Blade towards the double doors that led to the corridor just outside the common area.

As Fritz pushed him down the hallway, Blade took note of each person who walked by him. Many of them were staffers. Nurses, orderlies and one or two doctors. As they approached him, they smiled and said, “good evening, Eric.”

“How are you tonight, Eric?”

“Did you have a productive day, Eric?”

“Going to see Doctor Benway, huh Eric?”

Their perky smiles mocked him. He knew each friendly grin disguised uproarious laughter. Their smiles bordered on sneers. He knew that he was simply a prisoner in Shadywood. They knew it as well. Perhaps that’s why they were so amused, because his knowledge made it all the more punishing.

At the end of the corridor was an elevator. Fritz pressed the call button and once it arrived, he pushed Blade inside. Blade watched as Fritz took out his keychain. He slid a key into a small lock at the bottom and once he turned it, the light above activated.

The lowest floor. Where Doctor Benway would be waiting.

Above ground, Shadywood had sparkling white walls, complete with bright tile floors. Very well-lit, very inviting, very comfortable. But below ground, it was a much different story. Cold, dark walls. Grated floors. Damp. Going into the lower levels felt like descending into a dungeon.

The wheels squeaked when Fritz directed the chair through the narrow hall. It was reminiscent of a bad horror movie. Blade offered no expressions in reaction to his surroundings. His arms were limp against the rests and his head hung down slightly, his mouth agape and a bit of drool escaping from the corner of his lips. His eyes were vacant. By all appearances, he was completely dead to the world.

Fritz stopped in front of one of the many doors and banged his fist on the solid steel. There was a small slot that slid open from the other side. Bright red eyes took in Fritz and then the slot closed. The door opened and Fritz wheeled the patient inside.

Doctor Benway puffed on thick stogie. He wore a gray apron over his clothes and his hands were covered with black rubber gloves. With the exception of his clothing and red eyes, Benway seemed like a typical Midwestern middle-aged man. The kind who waved to his neighbors while he watered the lawn or took his dog for a walk. When the doctor smiled though, that’s when the ivory fangs stood revealed.

“Good evening, Fritz. How’s our patient tonight?” he asked.

“Same as always, Doc,” said Fritz. He disconnected the IV tubes and lifted Blade from the chair with barely any effort. Fritz set the Daywalker down on a gurney in the middle of the room and fastened the straps over Blade’s arms, legs, and chest.

“That’s that. Gimme a holler once you’re done with him,” said Fritz.

Benway seemed offended. “You don’t want to stay for the show?”

“No thanks, got other things to attend to,” said Fritz. “Have a good night, Doc.”

Fritz left the room, closing the heavy door behind him. Benway sat on a wheeled stool and slid it closer to the gurney. He looked down into Blade’s eyes. “So, looks like it’s just you and me now, Mr. Brooks.”

Blade offered no response.

There was a tray attached to the gurney. Benway moved it in front of him and picked up a syringe filled with a red liquid. He stuck it in his neck and depressed the plunger, allowing the liquid to flow into his veins. He closed his eyes as he did this and as the liquid started to take effect, his body quaked slightly and he moaned with satisfaction. As he pulled the needle out, he opened his eyes and smiled down at Blade.

“Blood of a heroin addict,” he said. “Great rush. Ever consider trying it?”

Benway set the syringe down. His fingers wrapped around a power drill with a large bit in it. He pressed the switch to test it.

“Now your blood, on the other hand, I’m sure that would be quite an interesting high, wouldn’t it?” asked Benway. “Well not right now, I suppose. But if we can locate the enzymes in your blood that make you the way we are, well we’d have the potential to create quite a few Daywalkers.”

He pressed the tip of the drill against Blade’s bare chest. He hit the switch and the drill surged to life, burrowing through the dark flesh and piercing the muscle tissue. Blood started to seep from the wound and the drill found some resistance when it hit a rib. Benway pressed on, cutting through it. As he did, smoke began to rise from the wound. Satisfied, he switched the drill to reverse in order to extract it.

Of course, Blade felt it. He may have been half-dead, but he could still feel sensations. But each time he met with Benway for a session, Blade was able to retreat further into himself, to block out the pain and anguish caused by the mad vampire.

Benway took a vial and collected some of the blood that leaked forth. He put a cap on it and set it on the tray next to the drill. “Maybe this time we’ll fare better, hmm? Now granted, we don’t need to keep taking blood samples, and we certainly don’t need to do it in such a brutal fashion. But where would be the fun in that?”

He moved the tray to the side and slid the stool away, then sprung up from his seat. He practically leapt to the other side of the room where there was a locked door. Benway opened it and Blade could hear whimpering on the other side.

“Get out here!” said Benway. His hand reached inside the closet and pulled forth a young girl, couldn’t have been more than fifteen, with long, straggly blonde hair. She was naked and looked as if she had been badly beaten several times. She continued to cry, new tears flowing over the ones which had already dried. Her hands were bound behind her back and Benway pulled her to the gurney. She looked down at Blade and looked over to Benway, the fear evident in her face.

“Now Mr. Brooks, maybe it’s time you had a drink, don’t you agree?” asked Benway. He smiled, once again showcasing his fangs. The girl whimpered even louder when she saw these. Benway lunged towards her and pierced the flesh of her neck. Instead of simply draining her blood, however, Benway forcefully pulled away from her with his fangs still in her skin. She screamed as he tore a section of her throat away and blood spewed forth.

Benway grinned while he forced her neck right above Blade’s head, her blood pouring down his throat. He started to choke from the blood and was forced to start swallowing it, an act that caused Benway to cut loose with uproarious laughter.

It wasn’t about simply drawing Blade’s blood and discovering if they could manufacture some kind of drug from it. He knew that and Benway certainly knew it. No, what it was about instead was the act of torture.

Blade had long been a painful thorn in the side of the vampires. He had attained legendary status among their community, and he had become a sort of boogieman. The slightest mention of his name would cause vampires to gasp or curse in fear or hatred. He had humiliated, defeated, murdered and tortured hundreds of their kind—perhaps even thousands. A reversal of roles was long overdue.

It was a reversal Benway took great delight in.

This was true torture. Watching Blade lie there, forced to suck down the blood of an innocent girl. Leaving him to live out his days in a wheelchair. Nightly torture sessions with Doctor Benway. It was all part of their plan. They would make this go on for years if possible. Benway even harbored the desire to sell tickets to these events, or videotape them and sell them to vampires. Many would pay top dollar to watch the Daywalker finally get his comeuppance.

For Blade, this was the end of the line. No friends, no weapons, not even his cursed vampiric abilities.

His resolve, however, still remained. And every night Benway would torture him like this, Blade would remember it. He would strike back, sooner rather than later.

It was the dead of night. Or perhaps it was bright and early in the morning. Blade had no real idea himself. All he knew, however, was that while he lay in bed, his eyes wide open, someone entered his room.

Blade’s first assumption was that it was Fritz. Coming by after having a few bottles and looking for someone to pound on. But it wasn’t Fritz. Whoever this was, he was much larger, with long red hair poking out the sides of the hood he wore to conceal his face.

The large man had a small vial in his hand. It was a black fluid of some sort. He took Blade’s IV drip bag and dumped the vial inside. The black liquid quickly clouded the clear and its inky color soon corrupted the rest.

The vial disappeared between the folds of the man’s jacket. He took one last look at Blade and said, “time to get back in the game, champ.”

Then he left.

How did this book come about? Sit down, I’ve got a story.

I’ve been a fan of Blade ever since I saw the first film with Wesley Snipes. I loved the first two films and I enjoyed the short-lived television series on a guilty pleasure level (Blade: Trinity was absolute shit, however). Back in the early days of Marvel 2000, I took the reins of the abandoned Blade title, intending to tie up loose ends and leave the book with a good starting point for a new writer. Instead, I ended up having a blast on the book and my association with Blade ended making things even worse for a new writer (oh, irony). There were a lot of problems with my run back then, the primary one being I had virtually no knowledge of the comic version of Blade (and neither did the previous writer), which led to a weird amalgamation of the film and comic versions.

I’ve learned a lot since then about the character and his history, but I won’t go overboard with references to Blade’s past, so if your only association with the character is from the film, you should be able to get along just fine with this book. My plan is to incorporate the best elements from the comics, the films and the television series as well as trying to bring in a bit of Vertigo flare to the character, something I think would work great for the Daywalker.

And as for this book in particular, the first two issues were originally put up at Strange Tales some time ago. After that site closed down and Chris brought Foolkillerover to the Marvel Knights Group, he asked me to do the same with Blade. I debated for a while before finally deciding to do it, although still worried that I may not be able to pick up the book after being absent from this storyline after two years. That actually wasn’t the case, as I found I was able to crank out two more issues, which were never released—MKG went on an indefinite hiatus and so those issues never saw the light of day.

When MKG opened its doors once again, Dave asked me if I wanted to bring the title back. I declined because I wasn’t sure if I could actually pick up the series or not. Now, I’ve decided to bring the series here to MO, using this site as a host for the series. Will it continue after the fourth issue is released? At the moment, I can’t say. For now, it’s just going up as a limited series but if the ideas start brewing again, you just might see a fifth issue.