Vampire Hunters: Prelude - Chapter 7

Like an ant feeling its way through the nest, I waded through the murky mire, swatting roots from my way. The passage narrowed, forcing me to my knees, no sign of the creature that had wandered through.

Thoughts of you ran together in my head, a shadowy mosaic of time and gold. I will not let your mark fade from me, Endolyn. I will remember you as you were, before your heart darkened. Failed you I have, though unsure how.

But I will not fail her.

Am I any closer to finding her? In my confusion, could I have passed her by, trekking through the ashes of Avarié? Though my heart says no, would I be able to recognize Elena’s charred corpse: her skin peeled off, hair burnt to the scalp? Or would self-preservation blind me, just as it would any grieving heart? I can only hope that I am not mistaken, that somewhere out there she is waiting for me.

Sweet Elena, live on.

I plodded along, my spirit waning as the burden grew greater. By all accounts, I had overdone it; pushed myself too hard despite the loss of blood. My eyelids sagged as I tried to decipher the light glowing in the distance.

Is that you, my love? The miracle that I am meant to see? I nudged forward. The tunnel spun, splinters of light peeling off pulsing orbs. I grabbed my glasses from my coat pocket, certain my eyes were deceiving me. The vortex quickened, spinning out of control. I reached for you, but as always, you were just beyond my reach.

“Is this my grave I have wandered into?” I mumbled. As before, I had come without the expectation of seeing the light again. With one last breath I inched forward, but alas, she had slipped through my fingers.

A shadow loomed over me, all too familiar. “How deep is the chasm? Know one knows for sure. Depends how black your heart is,” came a voice.

I froze, recognizing its childish taunts.

“Does the darkness run so deep that it could consume an entire village? Vampires and mortals alike? One must ask themselves.”

“I do not know what you mean,” I replied.

“A grave deed you have done. Or did you? I am not sure that you know yourself,” the voice hissed.

“Leave me alone. I will not warn you again.”

“Or what will you do, vampire hunter? Sling mud in my face? Perhaps you have other tricks that I have not seen? You will need every last one of them,” it goaded me.

“I will indulge your query if you pay me the same respect. The hole goes as deep as it must, but do not confuse darkness with emptiness, they are not one in the same. I hunt alone, it has always been thus, and fear that I may never know what has befallen Avarié,” I replied. “Though you claim to know so much about me, little do I know of you.”

“In essence, I am thee,” the voice faded into the distance.

A horn blared, deep and guttural, twisting through knotted bones. I struggled to open my eyes as the light intensified, ripping me from my slumber. Had I been out minutes, hours? So easy to lose track in the void.

The scatter of tiny feet filled my ears. Hundreds raced towards me, their luminescent bodies coming into view as they charged the tunnel, each no more than the size of my palm. Late in executing my retreat, I ducked the wave, tiny legs pricking me as they swarmed over. I crawled ahead, brushing them off as they continued deeper into the passage.

I rolled to one side, admiring the cool breeze spiraling down. Only grave deeds cause a vampire to swallow their words. This thing we are up against, it will destroy us all if we are not careful. I must take leave of Avarié at once. Darrien and Delilah’s union will falter if given time. I must not stop until I cross the river, and put as many towns between us as I can. Though I still cling to her memory, there is nothing for me here. She is not here.

But still…

I reached up, grasping air, the void ever deeper. From my knees, and then my feet, I could not find a ceiling to this cramped space. As I stood, a fresh draft washed over me, imparting its wisdom once more. A fork in the road lay before me, one path leading upwards while the other continued parallel to the surface. Without a second thought I abandoned the course, scaling rocks and clay walls until the wormhole wavered, and I was able to get my base under me.

Darkness embraced me once more as I rummaged through the nest, the foul stench now inseparable from my soiled clothes. A faint gust licked my spine, a hopeful sign that sent me scurrying up the slope. The horn boomed again, louder still, its hymn punctuated by the chatter of broken teeth.

“Is it all you had hoped for?” the voice mocked me. “Curious that you find comfort in the deepest shadows. Is it because you sense the end is near?”

“Steady thy tongue before I carve it out,” I uttered.

The horn resounded before I realized that something was upon me. I turned, scraped my chest against sharp outcroppings, and hurried back whence I came.

“‘Tis too late. The choice has already been made,” the shadow snickered.

The creature closed in, braying in short bursts. I glanced behind me, my retreat turning into a tumble. I pinged off jagged walls, falling like a stone, and slamming into the soppy bottom, my shoulder absorbing the brunt of the fall. I screamed, thrusting my shoulder back into place, and flipping onto my stomach.

A second isopod stormed the burrow, chasing down a glowing mite that eluded him. The insect scattered by, providing a fleeting glimpse of the horned creature above. Thick, segmented plates adorned its massive frame, a trio of wicked tusks protruding from its spiky crown.

I leapt forward as the creature knifed into the moist earth, and scurried away as fast as I could, narrowly keeping pace with the luminescent. The cave fetid and familiar, an ominous feeling swept over me. Had I been turned around, heading back in the same direction whence I started? Or was I burrowing deeper into the labyrinth, a path that could prove just as fatal?

My heart sank as the passage dipped, and then skipped a beat when it inclined several paces later. Again the tunnel narrowed, my shoulders wide as an ox. I forced myself through at an angle, speed and motion halved, quickly losing ground to the wayward mite.

Into the heavens we ascended, the angle steepening, the passage barely wide enough to breathe. The creature snapped at my heels, and drove its tusk through my sole, the keen point sneaking between my toes. I kicked back, slashing at him with my knife boots; but the angle was poor, their design clearly meant for frontal attacks. It nibbled on my spurs, hoping to take my feet with them.

As we wriggled along, the tunnel abruptly ended. The glowing mite raced through a hole in the wall and disappeared, a fitting reward for those that put their faith in such worthless creatures. I rammed the dirt wall, hoping it shallower than it appeared. Nowhere to run, I ducked as the behemoth collided with me, thrusting me through the dirt barrier and stone tiles of an illuminated walkway above.

The creature screeched, its prized horn snapped in half. I rolled to my feet, grabbed a torch from the wall, and grinded it into the severed tusk. The beast recoiled and burrowed back into the muddy depths. Two more henchmen emerged and tasted my fiery wrath. I stomped the floor until it collapsed, burying the pill bugs in a shallow grave.

Soldiers of the hive, I knew their abrupt burial was merely an inconvenience. Without cloth or wood to build a fire, I grabbed a fresh torch, and hurried along the barren hallway.

Vampire Hunters: Prelude - Chapter 6

FIFTEEN

Pages fluttered like leaves, splashing into the murky water. “Quite the romantic you are, yearning for the one that slipped away,” Delilah snickered, tearing another page from the black book, and tossing it down. “Spare are your sentiments. Why did you not invest a single word in me?” She closed the book, and held it over the edge.

“Like all romances, I quickly tire of the endless banter.” Her eyes wandered, making sure Darrien was not near. “Imagine your life if you had accepted Endolyn for what she was. Hypnotized by her love song, savoring the conquest of her flesh, as well as others, every day dreaming on your feet. All for the pittance of a little blood.” She rested her head on her arms.

“Enslaved are you by your morals. ‘Tis your cage, not mine. Your cry is nothing more than a whimper in the wind, tears that will soon run dry. I have read scores of these, whimper after whimper, all the same. A shame you did not know me first; perhaps your heart would ache for me?” Delilah rose. “So I leave you with this gift. Close your eyes, and make a wish.” She tossed the diary down.

The book splashed in the water next to me. “No!” I moaned, but could not move.

Delilah giggled, and then disappeared from view.

Gray hollows loomed over me as the creature drank. A dozen forelegs sprouted from its prickly core, holding me into place. Its outer shell consisted of a series of thick plates, cobbled one over the other, the pink underside shielded by a thin membrane. Multi-jointed forelegs ended in sharp points. Once the pill bug had its fill, it retracted its fangs, dumping me on the ground.

Yellow puss oozed from my chest, sealing my wounds, and quelling any further hemorrhaging. I wiped the corner of my mouth, again coming away with the flaxen surplus. Though I took in air with a tortured rasp, the creature had done an admirable job patching me up.

I scoured the crimson water for my journal as the smaller isopod continued drawing from my leg. As I retracted my hand, I came away with something of equal value—my spectacles. I slipped them back on; surprised I could see a whit without my sharper pair of eyes. Abruptly my head throbbed. I stripped them off, realizing that my vision had improved little with their use. I tucked my bifocals in my coat pocket, reluctant to admit that the creatures had somehow healed me.

With more my heart than hands, I combed the murky waters, desperate to reclaim the lost part of me. She did not escape me long before I stumbled upon her. I scooped her up and held her high, like a hunter ripping the heart from his fallen prey.

I cracked the book open, black ink bleeding over cloth pulp. Words collapsed and streaked, as if the book were beginning to tear. Disgusted, I snapped it shut, acknowledging that my private thoughts had been obscured further.

As the second creature released my leg, it made the gravest of errors. The tool I had no sooner forgotten glimmered in the dim light. With a newfound vigor, I grabbed the knife, and stabbed the abomination’s bulbous eye. It shrieked as I withdrew the blade and punctured the other. Unable to see, the burrower panicked, and slipped back into the mud.

Risking everything, I charged forward and swung, shearing off the other’s antennae. Weighed down with the surplus of blood, the creature could not react fast enough. It curled into a ball, continuing to taste my blade as I stabbed between its plates. Helpless to shield itself from my attack, the isopod scattered under the wall, preferring to protect its prize than stay and fight.

Footsteps above retraced themselves. I dove into the hole, sloshing after the pill bug in complete darkness.

“Lawson?” Delilah called down. She waited a few moments, and then exhaled. “Such temperamental creatures they are.”

I waited for a while, holding the diary over my head, careful not to sodden it further. Water dripped down, splashing into the shallow well. When I was certain she had gone, I took a breath and pressed deeper into the abyss.

Vampire Hunters: Prelude - Chapter 5

SIXTEEN

8 November.

The worst part in all of this was loving and losing you, Endolyn. Without you I am an empty glass falling to the rocks below. How much longer must I continue? “Just a bit further,” I tell myself.

Just a bit further.

10 November.

She is close, I am certain of it. I can hear her whisper in the wind. Far too long I have endured this path without the promise of better days. Then today, another sighting; the second in three days. I have tracked her to a farming community just outside Mayenne, though I am still a few days out. No telling if she has moved on.

The locals have warned me against going there. Several merchants have not returned, and tales of monsters and plague are told from trembling lips. Engagements have been missed. Inquiries remain unanswered. They are not hopeful.

Perhaps they are just trying to frighten me. Several have given me letters to take with me, but I sense many have already buried their loved ones in their hearts.

I will go there and find them, for better or worse. Hopefully one of us will find relief.

11 November.

I have crossed River Sarth, now a distance from the sea. Approach is limited. Few roads go into Avarié, most of them impassible. I have little choice but to brave the main thoroughfare. They will be waiting.

I hate being so exposed, but there is little choice. Elena is near; I will have to risk it. There is no time to survey the countryside, but perhaps this can work to my advantage.

In my encounters, I have used my father’s name Xavier, also my middle name. Those that know me wisely keep my name from their lips, lest bring ruin upon themselves. Upon my arrival in Mayenne, a message was waiting. The nobles of Avarié have already been contacted, and are sending an escort the day following. They refer to me as X. Hopefully that is all they know of me.

12 November.

Again the dream visited me. Dare I say an omen?

The wooden door stared back at me. Nicked and cracked, it did not have a handle nor hint of the treasures within. As I ran my hand over the splintery surface, the door began to bleed. First a trickle, and then buckets, spurting out the frame. My heart hammered inside my chest as I pondered whose blood was painting the entry. Abruptly the door shattered, falling away like leaves.

Light poured out, blinding me for several moments. All I could feel was the warm breath escaping me. A young girl turned, no more than 16. Her blue eyes and sable hair gave her away immediately. A mirror image of you, my love.

“Leave at once,” she said.

“Elena, do you not remember?” I asked.

She gawked at me like an unwashed vagabond wandering the streets.

“Elena, please. It is I, your father.” Grating breath taxed my ears. Something wicked lurked in the shadows nearby. I raised my crossbow, careful not to point it in her direction. “Quickly, we must leave.” I grabbed her arm.

“Get your hands off me.” She ripped her arm away. “Surely I would know my own father if I saw him.”

“Would you?” I looked deep into her eyes. “A young girl gave this to me once in case our paths split.” I took out a golden chain and crucifix from beneath my collar. “The cross I bear is yours.”

Elena gasped, understanding well the wound over my heart. “Father?” Light poured from her in waves. I was beholden to her gaze, powerless to look aside.

I embraced her, kissing her forehead. “Far too long you have been the only candle in the night. Come.” I cocked my bow and stepped into the abyss.

“No, I cannot.” She cowered.

“I am not leaving you,”

“Things have changed…I have changed…” She revealed her fangs. “Your arrow is meant for me. Use it quickly.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Regardless of what you are, I did not travel all this way to end you,” I replied.

“Then you must ask yourself what salvation truly is.” She lowered her eyes.

Suddenly the door pieced itself back together. I reached for her as the final patch fell into place, casting me back into the darkness, the moans of the dying closing in around me.

13 November.

Too much time has passed. Am I a fool to think her still human? I refuse to give into the fear, but if she is no longer mortal, what then?

Sadly I must leave. My guide has arrived; he is gaunt, excitable. I only hope that the same cloud does not loom over him.

Help me find her, Endolyn; through her your memory lives. If I lose Elena, there is little left. Everything good in my life can be traced back to you. You are inscribed on my soul, the inspiration behind these words. I cannot give you up just yet.

As my letter is my virtue,

L.

Vampire Hunters: Prelude - Chapter 4

SEVENTEEN

“No!” Darrien cried, burying his spurs in his steed, and racing downhill.

I squinted my eyes as the farms blazed, fiery tendrils stroking the ebony sky. Charred bodies punctuated the dirt streets and fields. As the wind surged, the vampire propped me up, ensuring that I could not evade the acrid stench of burnt flesh. I coughed again and again, my eyes stinging from the relentless barrage of smoke and ash.

“Did you miss me, Lawson, as I’ve missed you? I must confess, I’ve lusted for this moment.” Delilah embraced me. “Perhaps you thought me wicked for my hand in the destruction of the Canterbury Coven? Secretly I was hoping you would pay me a visit. Why didn’t you?” When no response came, the shadowling sighed, and rested her head on my shoulder.

A watchtower in the distance collapsed, igniting the field around it.

“You would have done well not to arouse him. Disclosing your intentions would have spared you his wrath. But this…” Her voice trailed off. “He will torture you gladly, cut off pieces if I wish, just like the unfortunate souls before you.” She pulled me closer. “Darrien cannot afford to appear incompetent in the eyes of the Holy Crescent. Cross us, and what is left of your family will fertilize our crops.”

The horse galloped downhill, breaking into a sprint, and cutting through smoldering fields on either side.

“What’s wrong, Lawson? Never conversed with an enlightened before? Or is it some inane code you hold dear?”

I mumbled, struggling to shape sound into words.

“Fragile creature.” She stroked the back of my head with her long, dark nails. “Be thankful my husband didn’t kill you before I convinced him otherwise.”

Two corpses lined the side of the road, hands interlocking.

“A pity your daughter Elena recently met her end. I understand she died in a fire much like this.”

“You lie,” I managed.

“And you speak,” Delilah snickered.

We emerged from the field, navigating a maze of blackened limbs and bodies. A few had fangs, but not all of them. Hopefully someone in this village was worth my tears.

Two-dozen residences bracketed an array of narrow buildings, representing Avarié’s humble urban core. Golden fields surrounded the village with a few bare trees sprinkled in. A dirt road cut through its heart, continuing to a large manor farther uphill.

Structures crumbled around us, horses and livestock squealing in their stables. Sensing the discord in the land, they struggled to free themselves from their refuge as the flames drew near.

I sagged in my saddle, unable to process all of it, sensing opportunity in the moment of despair, but unable to capitalize.

Darrien charged forward, and cracked his whip. He snared my neck with the leather cord, ripping me from Delilah’s glacial embrace. I fell forward, landing on my head. As I shook off the cobwebs, the priest jumped off his horse, and struck me with his bare fists, cutting me with the edge of his ring. I could feel little of the onslaught, but in truth, I hadn’t felt anything since my wife and daughter were taken from me. Finding her was the only way to thaw this icy core, and until then, I was little different than the corpses I pursued.

“Need I remind you?” Delilah got off her horse. “Steady yourself, for my sake. You nearly took an eye.”

Darrien ignored the remark, and rolled me onto my stomach. As he tied my wrists behind my back with the whip, my extremities began to tingle.

“Your sins against Avarié shall not be forgotten.” Darrien dragged me by the hair, and tossed me down a well. I clipped the side with my shoulder, and slammed into a shallow mix of mud and water below. The wind knocked out of me, I spit out the fetid water, and slowly fished myself from the muck.

“Do not bleed him just yet,” Delilah’s voice echoed.

“What now, dear?” said Darrien.

“‘Tis not wise to put him so close to the stores.”

“They will tend to him while we seek his accomplice,” he replied. “Swallow your discomfort, dear. I’ve been farming blood for some time now. The burrowers only take what the host provides, and not a drop more. It will not be the end of him.”

Suddenly the earth shifted below me. I shot up; surprised I could move at all. I backed away, shaking the murky water from my glasses. The shallow pool bubbled over, and then all was quiet.

Delilah peered over the ledge. “It always amuses me to see them wriggle.” She flashed her fangs.

My knees shook as I backed against the wall, and worked my way up. As my thigh brushed against the jagged edge, I could not help but grin. Though the vampire and her underling had commandeered my projectiles, they failed to secure the hunting knife concealed beneath my pants.

I sawed the leather cord with the edge of the pit, but to no avail. Quickly I dispensed of the idea, focusing on the knot instead. Fortunately Darrien was a preacher not a sailor; too much slack occupied my restraints. As I toiled, a large shape burst out of the water. It pinned me against the wall with its multitude of forelegs, and sunk its fangs into my chest. I squirmed as it knifed deeper, struggling to use the wall to scrape it from me. Finally my hands slipped free, and ripped the parasite from me.

Blood poured from my chest as a second isopod sprang out of the mud and snatched my leg. As I grabbed the knife, my arm wilted. They’d struck an artery; I was losing too much blood too fast. I gaped at the river flowing from me as the insects piled on top, and reinserted their fangs. My heart steadied as they drank from me, my glasses splashing into the crimson water. I slumped against the wall, Delilah’s laughter swirling around the chamber as consciousness gave way to dreams.

Vampire Hunters: Prelude - Chapter 3

EIGHTEEN

Far stronger than his lanky body suggested, the ecclesiastic hauled me up, and dumped me beside the grave. He searched my belt and pockets, seizing a second pistol, throwing knives, and explosive munitions. Though Darrien concealed himself well, I did not question his aversion to the forest. Something lurked nearby, giving vampires and their familiars pause.

The crimson door creaked open, a slender shadow slipping from it. “Again the dream beckons, casting forth the night. I tread shadows, but cannot discern the song from my hunger,” she murmured. She stepped into the moonlight, blond tresses falling past her shoulders. “Her verse fades, and a sadness fills me. A world away that song of innocence, nothing more than a dream.” Her golden dress trailed behind her in a glittery blur.

She bent over, and put her face in mine. “Hello, Lawson.” Her eyes were more yellow than brown, pulsing with an inhuman energy. I strained, unable to bring her name to my lips. Delilah traced an icy finger across my brow and frowned. “Careful not to kill him, dear. Like you, he is fragile. Forget not your own mortality till you’ve traversed the divine path.”

The vampire stood, and then approached Darrien. “Besides, he is useful to us,” she whispered, running her fingers through his curly, brown hair. “What is this?” Delilah shook bits of flesh and bone from her fingers.

“My escort, or what’s left of him.” Darrien offered his handkerchief.

“More and more these days, I find myself wiping away the blood of others that are not my kill. It sours my cheer, taking my delicate form with it. Look at me—I cannot afford to lose a whit more. Just one shade shy of a ghost.” She stained the virgin cloth with her hands.

“You are perfect, my love. Divine.” Darrien reached around and kissed her hand.

“Only if it were so.” Delilah took the lobe of his ear in her mouth. “Tell me, what became of him?”

“Yves? He attacked the marksman head-on, and met his end at the point of an arrow. Poor fool. He never should have called the old man’s bluff.”

Delilah spotted the repeating crossbow dangling from my horse and grinned. Abruptly she discarded the soiled cloth, and slipped away from her adherent. The horse bristled as the vampire neared. Captivated by the silver bolt resting in its groove, Delilah groped the bow’s maple stock and exhaled.

“Careful, Delilah. ‘Tis not a toy.” Darrien wrapped his arms around her. “It has enough contempt for us both.”

I wallowed in the upturned earth, unable to carry through with my escape.

“We must uncover the hansard in his employ. Perhaps he can craft something wicked for us both,” she replied.

“It is my understanding that he forges his own weapons.”

“Intriguing.” Delilah turned. “Then we shall put him to good use before sending him off.”

“No, we must kill him now. He is too dangerous to be kept alive.”

“His bounty is special indeed, one that you must collect.” She licked her dry lips.

“Do you still think me fond of such heirs?” Darrien pulled away. “I gave you Avarié as a wedding gift, and in addition, myself. Gold coins mean nothing to me.” His ring sparkled in the moonlight.

“Ironic that you would take your father’s ring in addition to his head,” she sneered.

“He sought to destroy you, and I would have none of it.”

“‘Twas your father’s affection, as misguided as it may seem.” Delilah brushed against him.

“At one time the house of Laroche stood for something: opulence, refinement, and above all, honor. The ring passed from father to son, one black heart to the next. But when father fled his debts, and traded Hanover for Avarié, I knew he was no longer capable of carrying our good name. What designs he had faded into the countryside. So I reclaimed it from him, vowing to be the visionary he never was. Though gold conquers many hearts, religion knows no bounds.”

Darrien turned, and kissed Delilah deeply. “I owe myself to you, my love. In my despair you filled me, giving birth to new perspective.” He brushed her golden locks aside. “Take my offering of Lawson’s head, and be done with it.”

Delilah pressed her lips gently against his, and pulled back. “The black pope desires Lawson for himself.”

“Pope Ruminus of Abber Sur?”

“The one,” she replied. “Lawson Parker will fetch you an audience, but only if he is alive.” She glanced at me. “There you will showcase your findings, and how you intend to improve life for my kin. Thus, The Order will embrace you, and bestow its highest honor: the mark of the papacy. ‘Tis the only reason I haven’t turned you myself.”

“Anointed by the pontiff himself?” Darrien pondered. “One step closer to divinity.”

“My gift to you, my love.” She kissed him like fire over dry brush. “But until that day, we must keep you healthy and unscathed. Pope Ruminus will not accept you if he cannot to turn you himself, and shape you into the instrument of his choosing. And when he realizes you have located his wayward daughter, and guided her back to the path, he will offer whatever you wish.”

“I love you, Delilah,” said Darrien.

“As do I, my love.” Delilah pulled him into her, burying his face in her chest. Unable to restrain himself any longer, Darrien took her there in the graveyard. The vampire peered over her shoulder, exposing her fangs as he unleashed his passion in her.

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