I have to admit, I'm very happy with this so far.
I appreciate feedback. No one like writing to a vacuum.
Neil

        In this game we call reality there are many paths. By
something as arbitrary as a flip of a coin we determine our
future. The glory of fiction is its ability to explore that
situation. The other side of the coin. To sunder the
barriers between the "what is" and the "what might have been"s.
So let us bring up the curtain on a darkened room. There is a
table, two chairs and a microphone. There are two men. One
human, and one who has not seen the glorious sun for many
centuries

     One upon a time there was a detective. He was a good man, smarter then
he looked, with a keen understanding of right and wrong. He had played the
buffoon for many years, understanding that the man he worked with was more
then a man, and, possibly less. In the interest of friendship he held his
tongue.  As far
as he was concerned the "evil" that his partner felt was his particular
curse was nothing more then a tool. It was a means of doing a better job
then anyone else could do. The detective's life had been saved more times
then he could count because of this "curse". He knew and accepted this.
Because, whatever Nicholas Knight was (Schanke never used the word
"Vampire") he was his partner, his best friend and time would never change
that  Not all the minutes in all the centuries of eternity could ever change
that.

He made his way up the aisle of the plane, slowly moving the perp before
him. Captain Cohen was in front of the suspect. and he was in the rear. This
guy was a real piece of work. Wanted in both the United States and Canada
for a series of bombings that had resulted in several deaths and many
injuries. He and Nick had made the collar (not that he couldn't have done it
himself now, but, old habits die hard) and they were flying him back for
extradition. So much had happened. So many changes. He couldn't even begin
to understand the why of it, only the how. He walked past Janette three rows
forward and was silently thankful she was there. Mother and friend. He
couldn't help but remember what she had once said about becoming "A
permanent member of the night shift." Permanent and eternal.

"How did you feel Detective Schanke?"
Schanke rattled on about how the guy had a family, etc.
"No, no, no. When you killed this man, did you feel a surge of strength
within you? A burst of adrenaline?"
 To which Schanke replies, "No! It wasn't anything like that! No matter
what anybody says it wasn't anything like that...<pause>...Well, I
gotta admit--my heart was beating like a rabbit. The guy did have the
draw on me..."

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *
*     *     *     *     *     *     *

Don Schanke was tired, so tired, and so confused. On a moral level he knew
it was wrong to kill, even someone as scummy as the murderer, but on a gut
level the reaction was different. He had seen the crooks who walked on a
technicality. They had lawyers who spent as much on their suits as he made
in a week. The righteousness of the collar didn't mean that much. Sometimes
it meant less then nothing. And he was so tired. So very tired.
     "Maybe I did some good. The one thing I'm sure of, is that, that guy is
one S.O.B. who is never going to kill again."
     "That is all I need to know."
     The last thing Don Schanke saw was a pair of impossible glowing yellow
eyes flying at him across the table. The last thing he felt was his neck
being snapped back and a pinch like two needles going into his throat. Then,
darkness.
     "LaCroix damn you!"
Knight sprang into the room. His eyes red as fire with Janette trying to
hold him back as his "father" drank his fill of the fallen detective, no,
more then his fill. Nick felt horror and sorrow as he realized what was
happening. Schanke wasn't being killed. He was being brought across. He had
to stop it, for after all was said and done Don was his partner. The closest
thing he had to a brother in 800 years. This was wrong. He broke free of
Janette and tried to pull his master off.
LaCroix had gone feral. He was feeding and fathering. Growling he continued
his work. Nick couldn't dislodge him. Couldn't stop what was happening. The
sucking sounds stopped. LaCroix turned. His face washed in blood, and let
Schanke slip to the floor.
     "You, are, never, to, do, that, again!"
     He panted and spoke between breaths "Nicholas, you are a fool. Perhaps
a greater fool then I ever realized. A mistake of epic proportions. Your
friend knew the truth about us. He was a resistor How long before the
enforcers showed up at his door? To kill him, and possibly his wife and
child? Would I have called the enforcers down on him? Don't be a greater
fool then you already are. The enforcers are not in your control or mine. He
would have lost everything. His life, his future. No! This man is far too
good a soldier for that fate. I have given him a chance, and you a brother.
Janette," he motioned to his favorite  daughter "take him and teach him.
Feed him well, on human blood. Cow or lower forms are not acceptable. Teach
him what he needs to know. Teach him not to feel guilt. Not to loathe what
he has become. His blood has taught me much. Soon I will forget the lessons,
but for the moment, know this. He is a man of resolve and honor. Of great
intelligence and wit. An apt pupil, and a fine addition to our family

     Out of darkness into light.
     Bright and blinding
     Shapes resolving themselves before him. Don Schanke was walking for he
had no idea how long. It seemed like forever, or the blink of an eye. A cold
drink would have been real nice. Not that he was thirsty (or hungry for that
matter) but simply for the feel of it going down his throat. Resolution of
shapes. It was, it was..
"Naw, it can't be!"
"Oh wow! A bar in the middle of nowhere!"
He ran to the stools that were lined up in front of it.
"Hmmmm, slow mirage." He said. "I must be early".
"No Don, you're right on time!"
"Mike?
Mike?!
Holy Cow!"
"It's like I told you Donny boy. Dogs gotta stick together. Like the old days."
"Yeah, but you're dead. Either I'm dreaming or...."
Schanke's face had a look of sheer panic.
"No damn it! Myra and the kid!
I've got to go back.!"
"Donny, don't leave here. Don't go back. What's waiting for you could be
worse then anything you might lose."
Schanke stopped short.
"Wait a minute Mike. You're telling me not to go back. You're not telling me
I can't. What's the story?"
Don, you remember what happened right before you woke-up here?"
"Yeah, I think so. That strange D.J. friend of Knight's was asking me how it
felt to nail that perp, and then.."
"Go on."
"Oh momma!"
"Well, if it's any consolation, you were right. Nick is a vampire.
Unfortunately, so was the other guy. So would you be, if you went back."
"But what about Jenny?"
"You couldn't help her anyway.
You couldn't be there for her. It's too risky."
"Screw that! She's my kid! I've got to be there for her. If not me, then who?."
"Donny, the best you could hope for is to watch her from a distance. You
couldn't go near her safely, if you did, and lost control for one minute...."
Mike let the implication finish the sentence.
"Yeah, but Knight never slipped. If he had I would have been dead ages ago."
"Nick has over 800 years of experience."
"I can learn!"
"How much and how soon?
Don, think about this. Eternity before you. Never seeing the sun. Never
eating, except the obvious. Killing your identity every twenty years or
less. What kind of life is that?"
"Maybe not much. Maybe worse, but my kid's there Mike. Myra's never had to
work at anything harder then selling cosmetics. A pension's not enough. You
know that. Maybe  in this case the "Right Thing" is the "Wrong Thing". Maybe
it's what I have to do."
"Donny, you're a crazy S.O.B. Too moral for your own good.
I don't know what to tell you. I've done my job. It's your choice."
"Well Mike, maybe I'll see you in a few hundred years."
"If you're real lucky. I don't know if they make exceptions to this rule
Donny boy. I really don't know. "

Don was yanked away from the bar. It was like he was thrown.
Down, and down. Back to the Earth. Then coming to rest. Weak as a baby. He
didn't question Jeanette's open wrist as it was offered to him. He was like
a baby on his mothers teat. Drinking life. As he drank he saw. Hundreds of
years of history in a rush of images. A dusk to dawn picture of the ages of
man. He was this strange and beautiful woman. He learned what it was like to
make love to a man. To be taken and take. To ride the crest of pleasure and
then share in her/his partner's essence. To be part of their very being.


                 He was brought across in 1995.
              Preyed on criminals for their blood.
  He has no desire to be human again for as the vampire he can  right the
wrongs of society to do what he never could as a policeman. He will stay in
this half-life, this world of Darkness,                           this endless
                         Forever Schanke