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richard matheson i am legend

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part i january 1976 chapter one on those cloudy days robert neville was never sure when sunset came and sometimes they were in the streets before he could get back if he had been more analytical he might have calculated the approximate time of their arrival but he still used the lifetime habit of judging nightfall by the sky and on cloudy days that method didn t work that was why he chose to stay near the house on those days he walked around the house in the dull gray of afternoon a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth trailing threadlike smoke over his shoulder he checked each window to see if any of the boards had been loosened after violent attacks the planks were often split or partially pried off and he had to replace them completely a job he hated today only one plank was loose isn t that amazing he thought in the back yard he checked the hothouse and the water tank sometimes the structure around the tank might be weakened or its rain catchers bent or broken off sometimes they would lob rocks over the high fence around the hothouse and occasionally they would tear through the overhead net and he d have to replace panes both the tank and the hothouse were undamaged today he went to the house for a hammer and nails as he pushed open the front door he looked at the distorted reflection of himself in the cracked mirror he d fastened to the door a month ago in a few days jagged pieces of the silver-backed glass would start to fall off let `em fall he thought it was the last damned mirror he d put there it wasn t worth it he d put garlic there instead garlic always worked he passed slowly through the dim silence of the living room turned left into the small hallway and left again into his bedroom once the room had been warmly decorated but that was in another time now it was a room entirely functional and since neville s bed and bureau took up so little space he had converted one side of the room into a shop a long bench covered almost an entire wall on its hardwood top a heavy band saw a wood lathe an emery wheel and a vise above it on the wall were haphazard racks of the tools that robert nèville used he took a hammer from the bench and picked out a few nails from one of the disordered bins then he went back outside and nailed the plank fast to the shutter the unused nails he threw into the rubble next door for a while he stood on the front lawn looking up and down the silent length of cimarron street he was a tall man thirty-six born of english-german stock his features undistinguished except for the long determined mouth and the bright blue of his eyes which moved now over the charred ruins of the houses on each side of his he d burned them down to prevent them from jumping on his roof from the adjacent ones after a few minutes he took a long slow breath and went back into the house he tossed the hammer on the living-room couch then lit another cigarette and had his midmorning drink.

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later he forced himself into the kitchen to grind up the five-day accumulation of garbage in the sink he knew he should burn up the paper plates and utensils too and dust the furniture and wash out the sinks and the bathtub and toilet and change the sheets and pillowcase on his bed but he didn t feel like it for he was a man and he was alone and these things had no importance to him it was almost noon robert neville was in his hothouse collecting a basketful of garlic in the beginning it had made him sick to smell garlic in such quantity his stomach had been in a state of constant turmoil now the smell was in his house and in his clothes and sometimes he thought it was even in his flesh he hardly noticed it at all when he had enough bulbs he went back to the house and dumped them on the drainboard of the sink as he flicked the wall switch the light flickered then flared into normal brilliance a disgusted hiss passed his clenched teeth the generator was at it again he d have to get out that damned manual again and check the wiring and if it were too much trouble to repair he d have to install a new generator angrily he jerked a high legged stool to the sink got a knife and sat down with an exhausted grunt first be separated the bulbs into the small sickle-shaped cloves then he cut each pink leathery clove in half exposing the fleshy center buds the air thickened with the musky pungent odor when it got too oppressive he snapped on the air-conditioning unit and suction drew away the worst of it now he reached over and took an icepick from its wall rack he punched holes in each clove half then strung them all together with wire until he had about twenty-five necklaces in the beginning he had hung these necklaces over the windows but from a distance they d thrown rocks until he d been forced to cover the broken panes with plywood scraps finally one day he d torn off the plywood and nailed up even rows of planks instead it had made the house a gloomy sepulcher but it was better than having rocks come flying into his rooms in a shower of splintered glass and once he had installed the three air-conditioning units it wasn t too bad a man could get used to anything if he had to when he was finished stringing the garlic cloves he went outside and nailed them over the window boarding taking down the old strings which had lost most of their potent smell he had to go through this process twice a week until he found something better it was his first line of defense defense he often thought for what all afternoon he made stakes he lathed them out of thick doweling band-sawed into nine inch lengths these be held against the whirling emery stone until they were as sharp as daggers it was tiresome monotonous work and it filled the air with hot-smelling wood dust that settled in his pores and got into his lungs and made him cough yet he never seemed to get ahead no matter how many stakes he made they were gone in no time at all doweling was getting harder to find too eventually he d have to lathe down rectangular lengths of wood won t that be fun he thought irritably it was all very depressing and it made him resolve to find a better method of disposal but how could he find it when they never gave him a chance to slow down and think?

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as he lathed he listened to records over the loudspeaker he d set up in the bedroom beethoven s third seventh and ninth symphonies he was glad he d learned early in life from his mother to appreciate this kind of music it helped to fill the terrible void of hours from four o clock on his gaze kept shifting to the clock on the wall he worked in silence lips pressed into a hard line a cigarette in the corner of his mouth his eyes staring at the bit as it gnawed away the wood and sent floury dust filtering down to the floor four fifteen four-thirty it was a quarter to five in another hour they d be at the house again the filthy bastards as soon as the light was gone he stood before the giant freezer selecting his supper his jaded eyes moved over the stacks of meats down to the frozen vegetables down to the breads and pastries the fruits and ice cream he picked out two lamb chops string beans and a small box of orange sherbet he picked the boxes from the freezer and pushed shut the door with his elbow next he moved over to the uneven stacks of cans piled to the ceiling he took down a can of tomato juice then left the room that had once belonged to kathy and now belonged to his stomach he moved slowly across the living room looking at the mural that covered the back wall it showed a cliff edge sheering off to green-blue ocean that surged and broke over black rocks far up in the clear blue sky white sea gulls floated on the wind and over on the right a gnarled tree hung over the precipice its dark branches etched against the sky neville walked into the kitchen and dumped the groceries on the table his eyes moving to the clock twenty minutes to six soon now he poured a little water into a small pan and clanked it down on a stove burner next he thawed out the chops and put them under the broiler by this time the water was boiling and he dropped in the frozen string beans and covered them thinking that it was probably the electric stove that was milking the generator at the table he sliced himself two pieces of bread and poured himself a glass of tomato juice he sat down and looked at the red second hand as it swept slowly around the clock face the bastards ought to be here soon after he d finished his tomato juice he walked to the front door and went out onto the porch he stepped off onto the lawn and walked down to the sidewalk the sky was darkening and it was getting chilly he looked up and down cimarron street the cool breeze ruffling his blond hair that s what was wrong with these cloudy days you never knew when they were coming oh well at least they were better than those damned dust storms with a shrug he moved back across the lawn and into the house locking and bolting the door behind him sliding the thick bar into place then he went back into the kitchen turned his chops and switched off the heat under the string beans he was putting the food on his plate when he stopped and his eyes moved quickly to the clock six-twenty five today ben cortman was shouting come out neville robert neville sat down with a sigh and began to eat.

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he sat in the living room trying to read he d made himself a whisky and soda at his small bar and he held the cold glass as he read a physiology text from the speaker over the hallway door the music of schonberg was playing loudly not loudly enough though he still heard them outside their murmuring and their walkings about and their cries their snarling and fighting among themselves once in a while a rock or brick thudded off the house sometimes a dog barked and they were all there for the same thing robert neville closed his eyes a moment and held his lips in a tight line then he opened his eyes and lit another cigarette letting the smoke go deep into his lungs he wished he d had time to soundproof the house it wouldn t be so bad if it weren t that he had to listen to them even after five months it got on his nerves he never looked at them any more in the beginning he d made a peephole in the front window and watched them but then the women had seen him and had started striking vile postures in order to entice him out of the house he didn t want to look at that he put down his book and stared bleakly at the rug hearing verklärte nacht play over the loud-speaker he knew he could put plugs in his ears to shut off the sound of them but that would shut off the music too and he didn t want to feel that they were forcing him into a shell he closed his eyes again it was the women who made it so difficult be thought the women posing like lewd puppets in the night on the possibility that he d see them and decide to come out a shudder ran through him every night it was the same he d be reading and listening to music then he d start to think about soundproofing the house then he d think about the women deep in his body the knotting heat began again and be pressed his lips together until they were white he knew the feeling well and it enraged him that he couldn t combat it it grew and grew until he couldn t sit still any more then he d get up and pace the floor fists bloodless at his sides maybe he d set up the movie projector or eat something or have too much to drink or turn the music up so loud it hurt his ears he had to do something when it got really bad he felt the muscles of his abdomen closing in like frightening coils he picked up the book and tried to read his lips forming each word slowly and painfully but in a moment the book was on his lap again he looked at the bookcase across from him all the knowledge in those books couldn t put out the fires in him all the words of centuries couldn t end the wordless mindless craving of his flesh the realization made him sick it was an insult to a man all right it was a natural drive but there was no outlet for it any more they d forced celibacy on him he d have to live with it you have a mind don t you he asked himself well use it he reached over and turned the music still louder then forced himself to read a whole page without pause he read about blood cells being forced through membranes about pale lymph carrying the wastes through tubes blocked by lymph nodes about lymphocytes and phago cytic cells to empty in the left shoulder region near the thorax into a large vein of the blood circulating system the book shut with a thud why didn t they leave him alone did they think they could all have him were they so stupid they thought that why did they keep coming every night after five months you d

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think they d give up and try elsewhere he went over to the bar and made himself another drink as he turned back to his chair he heard stones rattling down across the roof and landing with thuds in the shrubbery beside the house above the noises he heard ben cortman shout as he always shouted come out neville someday i ll get that bastard he thought as he took a big swallow of the bitter drink someday i ll knock a stake right through his goddamn chest i ll make one a foot long for him a special one with ribbons on it the bastard tomorrow tomorrow he d soundproof the house his fingers drew into white-knuckled fists he couldn t stand thinking about those women if he didn t hear them maybe he wouldn t think about them tomorrow tomorrow the music ended and he took a stack of records off the turntable and slid them back into their cardboard envelopes now he could hear them even more clearly outside he reached for the first new record he could get and put it on the turntable and twisted the volume up to its highest point the year of the plague by roger leie filled his ears violins scraped and whined tympani thudded like the beats of a dying heart flutes played weird atonal melodies with a stiffening of rage he wrenched up the record and snapped it over his right knee he d meant to break it long ago he walked on rigid legs to the kitche n and flung the pieces into the trash box then he stood in the dark kitchen eyes tightly shut teeth clenched hands damped over his ears leave me alone leave me alone leave me alone no use you couldn t beat them at night no use trying it was their special time he was acting very stupidly trying to beat them should he watch a movie no he didn t feel like setting up the projector he d go to bed and put the plugs in his ears it was what he ended up doing every night anyway quickly trying not to think at all he went to the bedroom and undressed he put on pajama bottoms and went into the bathroom he never wore pajama tops it was a habit he d acquired in panama during the war as he washed he looked into the mirror at his broad chest at the dark hair swirling around the nipples and down the center line of his chest he looked at the ornate cross he d had tattooed on his chest one night in panama when he d been drunk what a fool i was in those days he thought well maybe that cross had saved his life he brushed his teeth carefully and used dental floss he tried to take good care of his teeth because he was his own dentist now some things could go to pot but not his health he thought then why don t you stop pouring alcohol into yourself he thought why don t you shut the hell up he thought now be went through the house turning out lights for a few minutes he looked at the mural and tried to believe it was really the ocean but how could he believe it with all the bumpings and the scrapings the howlings and snarlings and cries in the night he turned off the living room lamp and went into the bedroom he made a sound of disgust when he saw that sawdust covered the bed he brushed it off with snapping hand strokes thinking that he d better build a partition between the shop and the sleeping portion of the room better do this and better do that he thought morosely there were so many damned things to do he d never get to the real problem he jammed in his earplugs and a great silence engulfed him he turned off the light and crawled in between the sheets he looked at the radium faced clock and saw that it was only a

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few minutes past ten just as well he thought this way i ll get an early start he lay there on the bed and took deep breaths of the darkness hoping for sleep but the silence didn t really help he could still see them out there the white faced men prowling around his house looking ceaselessly for a way to get in at him some of them probably crouching on their haunches like dogs eyes glittering at the house teeth slowly grating together back and forth back and forth and the women did he have to start thinking about them again he tossed over on his stomach with a curse and pressed his face into the hot pillow he lay there breathing heavily body writhing slightly on the sheet let the morning come his mind spoke the words it spoke every night dear god let the morning come he dreamed about virginia and he cried out in his sleep and his fingers gripped the sheets like frenzied talons.

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chapter two the alarm went off at five-thirty and robert neville reached out a numbed arm in the morning gloom and pushed in the stop he reached for his cigarettes and lit one then sat up after a few moments he got up and walked into the dark living room and opened the peephole door outside on the lawn the dark figures stood like silent soldiers on duty as he watched some of them started moving away and he heard them muttering discontentedly among themselves another night was ended he went back to the bedroom switched on the light and dressed as he was pulling on his shirt he heard ben cortman cry out come out neville and that was all after that they all went away weaker he knew than when they had come unless they had attacked one of their own they did that often there was no union among them their need was their only motivation after dressing neville sat down on his bed with a grunt and penciled his list for the day lathe at sears water check generator doweling usual breakfast was hasty a glass of orange juice a slice of toast and two cups of coffee he finished it quickly wishing he had the patience to eat slowly after breakfast he threw the paper plate and cup into the trash box and brushed his teeth at least i have one good habit he consoled himself the first thing he did when he went outside was look at the sky it was clear virtually cloudless he could go out today good as he crossed the porch his shoe kicked some pieces of the mirror well the damn thing broke just as i thought it would he thought he d clean it up later one of the bodies was sprawled on the sidewalk the other one was half concealed in the shrubbery they were both women they were almost always women he unlocked the garage door and backed his willys station wagon into the early morning crispness then he got out and pulled down the back gate he put on heavy gloves and walked over to the woman on the sidewalk there was certainly nothing attractive about them in the daylight he thought as he dragged them across the lawn and threw them up on the canvas tarpaulin there wasn t a drop left in them both women were the color of fish out of water he raised the gate and fastened it he went around the lawn then picking up stones and bricks and putting them into a cloth sack he put the sack in the station wagon and then took off his gloves he went inside the house washed his hands and made lunch two sandwiches a few cookies and a thermos of hot

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coffee when that was done he went into the bedroom and got his bag of stakes he slung this across his back and buckled on the holster that held his mallet then he went out of the house locking the front door behind him he wouldn t bother searching for ben cortman that morning there were too many other things to do for a second he thought about the soundproofing job he d resolved to do on the house well the hell with it he thought i ll do it tomorrow or some cloudy day he got into the station wagon and checked his list lathe at sears that was first after he dumped the bodies of course he started the car and backed quickly into the street and headed for compton boulevard there he turned right and headed east on both sides of him the houses stood silent and against the curbs cars were parked empty and dead robert neville s eyes shifted down for a moment to the fuel gauge there was still a half tank but he might as well stop on western avenue and fill it there was no point in using any of the gasoline stored in the garage until be had to he pulled into the silent station and braked he got a barrel of gasoline and siphoned it into his tank until the pale amber fluid came gushing out of the tank opening and ran down onto the cement he checked the oil water battery water and tires everything was in good condition it usually was because he took special care of the car if it ever broke down so that he couldn t get back to the house by sunset well there was no point in even worrying about that if it ever happened that was the end now he continued up compton boulevard past the tall oil derricks through compton through all the silent streets there was no one to be seen anywhere but robert neville knew where they were the fire was always burning as the car drew closer he pulled on his gloves and gas mask and watched through the eyepieces the sooty pall of smoke hovering above the earth the entire field had been excavated into one gigantic pit that was in june 1975 neville parked the car and jumped out anxious to get the job over with quickly throwing the catch and jerking down the rear gate he pulled out one of the bodies and dragged it to the edge of the pit there he stood it on its feet and shoved the body bumped and rolled down the steep incline until it settled on the great pile of smoldering ashes at the bottom robert neville drew in harsh breaths as he hurried back to the station wagon he always felt as though he were strangling when he was here even though he had the gas mask on now he dragged the second body to the brink of the pit and pushed it over then after tossing the sack of rocks down he hurried back to the car and sped away after he d driven a half mile he skinned off the mask and gloves and tossed them into the back his mouth opened and he drew in deep lungfuls of fresh air he took the flask from the glove compartment and took a long drink of burning whisky then he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply sometimes he had to go to the burning pit every day for weeks at a time and it always made him sick somewhere down there was kathy on the way to inglewood he stopped at a market to get some bottled water as he entered the silent store the smell of rotted food filled his nostrils quickly he pushed a metal wagon up and down the silent dust-thick aisles the heavy smell of decay setting his teeth on edge making him

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breathe through his mouth he found the water bottles in back and also found a door opening on a flight of stairs after putting all the bottles into the wagon he went up the stairs the owner of the market might be up there he might as well get started there were two of them in the living room lying on a couch was a woman about thirty years old wearing a red housecoat her chest rose and fell slowly as she lay there eyes closed her hands clasped over her stomach robert neville s hands fumbled on the stake and mallet it was always hard when they were alive especially with women he could feel that senseless demand returning again tightening his muscles he forced it down it was insane there was no rational argument for it she made no sound except for a sudden hoarse intake of breath as he walked into the bedroom he could hear a sound like the sound of water running well what else can i do he asked himself for he still had to convince himself he was doing the right thing he stood in the bedroom doorway staring at the small bed by the window his throat moving breath shuddering in his chest then driven on he walked to the side of the bed and looked down at her why do they all look like kathy to me he thought drawing out the second stake with shaking hands driving slowly to sears he tried to forget by wondering why it was that only wooden stakes should work he frowned as he drove along the empty boulevard the only sound the muted growling of the motor in his car it seemed fantastic that it had taken him five months to start wondering about it which brought another question to mind how was it that he always managed to hit the heart it had to be the heart dr busch had said so yet he neville had no anatomical knowledge his brow furrowed it irritated him that he should have gone through this hideous process so long without stopping once to question it he shook his head no i should think it over carefully he thought i should collect all the questions before i try to answer them things should be done the right way the scientific way yeah yeah yeah he thought shades of old fritz that had been his father s name neville had loathed his father and fought the acquisition of his father s logic and mechanical facility every inch of the way his father had died denying the vampire violently to the last at sears he got the lathe loaded it into the station wagon then searched the store there were five of them in the basement hiding in various shadowed places one of them neville found inside a display freezer when he saw the man lying there in this enamel coffin he had to laugh it seemed such a funny place to hide later he thought of what a humorless world it was when he could find amusement in such a thing about two o clock he parked and ate his lunch everything seemed to taste of garlic and that set him wondering about the effect garlic had on them it must have been the smell that chased them off but why they were strange the facts about them their staying inside by day their avoidance of garlic their death by stake their reputed fear of crosses their supposed dread of mirrors.

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take that last now according to legend they were invisible in mirrors but he knew that was untrue as untrue as the belief that they transformed themselves into bats that was a superstition that logic plus observation had easily disposed of it was equally foolish to believe that they could transform themselves into wolves without a doubt there were vampire dogs he had seen and heard them outside his house at night but they were only dogs robert neville compressed his lips suddenly forget it he told himself you re not ready yet the time would come when he d take a crack at it detail for detail but the time wasn t now there were enough things to worry about now after lunch he went from house to house and used up all his stakes he had forty-seven stakes.

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chapter three the strength of the vampire is that no one will believe in him thank you dr van helsing he thought putting down his copy of dracula he sat staring moodily at the bookcase listening to brahms second piano concerto a whisky sour in his right hand a cigarette between his lips it was true the book was a hodgepodge of superstitions and soap-opera clichés but that line was true no one had believed in them and how could they fight something they didn t even believe in that was what the situation had been something black and of the night had come crawling out of the middle ages something with no framework or credulity something that had been consigned fact and figure to the pages of imaginative literature vampires were passé summers idylls or stoker s melodramatics or a brief inclusion in the britannica or grist for the pulp writer s mill or raw material for the b-film factories a tenuous legend passed from century to century well it was true he took a sip from his drink and closed his eyes as the cold liquid trickled down his throat and warmed his stomach true he thought but no one ever got the chance to know it oh they knew it was something but it couldn t be that not that that was imagination that was superstition there was no such thing as that and before science had caught up with the lege nd the legend had swallowed science and everything he hadn t found any doweling that day he hadn t checked the generator he hadn t cleaned up the pieces of mirror he hadn t eaten supper he d lost his appetite that wasn t hard he lost it most of the time he couldn t do the things he d done all afternoon and then come home to a hearty meal not even after five months he thought of the eleven no the twelve children that afternoon and he finished his drink in two swallows he blinked and the room wavered a little before him you re getting blotto father he told himself so what he returned has anyone more right he tossed the book across the room begone van helsing and mina and jonathan and bloodeyed count and all all figments all driveling extrapolations on a somber theme a coughing chuckle emptied itself from his throat outside ben cortman called for him to come out be right out benny he thought soon as i get my tuxedo on he shuddered and gritted his teeth edges toge ther be right out well why not why not go out it was a sure way to be free of them be one of them he chuckled at the simplicity of it then shoved himself up and walked crookedly to the bar why not his mind plodded on why go through all this complexity when a flung open door and a few steps would end it all for the life of him he didn t know there was of course the faint possibility that others like

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him existed somewhere trying to go on hoping that someday they would be among their own kind again but how could he ever find them if they weren t within a day s drive of his house he shrugged and poured more whisky in the glass he d given up the use of jiggers months ago garlic on the windows and nets over the hothouse and burn the bodies and cart the rocks away and fraction of an inch by fraction of an inch reduce their unholy numbers why kid himself he d never find anyone else his body dropped down heavily on the chair here we are kiddies sitting like a bug in a rug snugly surrounded by a battalion of blood-suckers who wish no more than to sip freely of my bonded 100-proof hemoglobin have a drink men this one s really on me his face twisted into an expression of raw unqualified hatred bastards i ll kill eve ry mother s son of you before i ll give in his right hand closed like a clamp and the glass shattered in his grip he looked down dull-eyed at the fragments on the floor at the jagged piece of glass still in his hand at the whisky-diluted blood dripping off his palm wouldn t they like to get some of it though he thought he started up with a furious lurch and almost opened the door so he could wave the hand in their faces and hear them howl then he closed his eyes and a shudder ran through his body wise up buddy he thought go bandage your goddamn hand he stumbled into the bathroom and washed his hand carefully gasping as he daubed iodine into the sliced-open flesh then he bandaged it clumsily his broad chest rising and falling with jerky movements sweat dripping from his forehead i need a cigarette he thought in the living room again he changed brahms for bernstein and lit a cigarette what will i do if i ever run out of coffin nails he wondered looking at the cigarette s blue trailing smoke well there wasn t much chance of that he had about a thousand cartons in the closet of kathy s he clenched his teeth together in the closet of the larder the larder the larder kathy s room he sat staring with dead eyes at the mural while the age of anxiety pulsed in his ears age of anxiety he mused you thought you had anxiety lenny boy lenny and benny you two should meet composer meet corpse mamma when i grow up i wanna be a wampir like dada why bless you boo of course you shall the whisky gurgled into the glass he grimaced a little at the pain in his hand and shifted the bottle to his left hand he sat down and sipped let the jagged edge of sobriety be now dulled he thought let the crumby balance of clear vision be expunged but post haste i hate `em gradually the room shifted on its gyroscopic center and wove and undulated about his chair a pleasant haze fuzzy at the edges took over sight he looked at the glass at the record player he let his head flop from side to side outside they prowled and muttered and waited pore vampires he thought pore little cusses pussyfootin round my house so thirsty so all forlorn a thought he raised a forefinger that wavered before his eyes friends i come before you to discuss the vampire a minority element if there ever was one and there was one but to concision i will sketch out the basis for my thesis which thesis is this vampires are prejudiced against the keynote of minority prejudice is this they are loathed because they are feared thus

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he made himself a drink a long one at one time the dark and middle ages to be succinct the vampire s power was great the fear of him tremendous he was anathema and still remains anathema society hates him without ration but are his needs any more shocking than the needs of other animals and men are his deeds more outrageous than the deeds of the parent who drained the spirit from his child the vampire may foster quickened heartbeats and levitated hair but is he worse than the parent who gave to society a neurotic child who became a politician is he worse than the manufacturer who set up belated foundations with the money he made by handing bombs and guns to suicidal nationalists is he worse than the distiller who gave bastardized grain juice to stultify further the brains of those who sober were incapable of a progressive thought nay i apologize for this calumny i nip the brew that feeds me is he worse then than the publisher who filled ubiquitous racks with lust and death wishes really now search your soul lovie is the vampire so bad all he does is drink blood why then this unkind prejudice this thoughtless bias why cannot the vampire live where be chooses why must he seek out hiding places where none can find him out why do you wish him destroyed ah see you have turned the poor guileless innocent into a haunted animal he has no means of support no measures for proper education he has not the voting franchise no wonder he is compelled to seek out a predatory nocturnal existence robert neville grunted a surly grunt sure sure he thought but would you let your sister marry one he shrugged you got me there buddy you got me there the music ended the needle scratched back and forth in the black grooves he sat there feeling a chill creeping up his legs that s what was wrong with drinking too much you became immune to drunken delights there was no solace in liquor before you got happy you collapsed already the room was straightening out the sounds outside were starting to nibble at his eardrums come out neville his throat moved and a shaking breath passed his lips come out the women were out there their dresses open or taken off their flesh waiting for his touch their lips waiting for my blood my blood as if it were someone else s hand he watched his whitened fist rise up slowly shuddering to drive down on his leg the pain made him suck in a breath of the house s stale air garlic everywhere the smell of garlic in his clothes and in the furniture and in his food and even in his drink have a garlic and soda his mind rattled out the attempted joke he lurched up and started pacing what am i going to do now go through the routine again i ll save you the trouble reading-drinking-soundproof-the-house the women the women the lustful bloodthirsty naked women flaunting their hot bodies at him no not hot a shuddering whine wrenched up through his chest and throat goddamn them what were they waiting for did they think he was going to come out and hand himself over maybe i am maybe i am he actually found himself jerking off the crossbar from the door coming girls i m coming wet your lips now outside they heard the bar being lifted and a howl of anticipation sounded in the night spinning he drove his fists one after the other into the wall until he d cracked the plaster and broken his skin then he stood there trembling helplessly his teeth chattering.

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