Blood Stakes

by Upton, Bradley

  John waited a few minutes then got out of the car carrying the small bag. He cautiously crossed the street to the steps leading into the townhouse. John looked up and down the street as he hesitated at the door. Was anyone watching? Seeing there was no one paying him any attention he tried the handle, to his surprise it was unlocked. He wondered what he would have done if it were locked. Wait in the car? Apparently Sean expected him. After one last glance up and down the street, John turned the handle and slipped into the building.

  It was very dark inside; heavy blackout curtains were covering the windows. He found a switch and turned on the lights. The lighting was dim, obviously a night hunter didn’t need much light. In front of him was a stairway leading to the upper floors. A dark hallway to the side of the stairs lead to the back of the house, presumably the kitchen. To his right was a set of double door. John walked from the entrance hall, opened the double doors and found a dark, well-furnished living room. He turned on the lights. There were several comfortable chairs. Stacks of books on the floor at the sides of the chairs. Sean was still an avid reader even now.

  ‘Vampires live pretty well,’ Father Bryant thought as he sat down in a large chair. The room was spacious with a high ceiling and tastefully decorated. John didn’t speculate how Sean could afford such a place, but he could guess. He set the bag on the floor near his feet and waited. Time crawled by and John nodded off. He awoke, startled when he heard the front door open and close. How long had he been asleep? Fear and anticipation rushed through him.

  In the doorway Sean appeared. He stood motionless for an uncomfortable moment. He stared at John, a slight smile on his lips. “Hello, Johnny. Glad you could make it. Can I get you anything? Tea? Ginger ale?” The vampire paused. “Scotch?” The smile became a sarcastic smirk which played across his face. “Why are you sitting in such bad light? You’ll strain your eyes.” He glided to a wall switch and turned it on. Bright light flooded the room from recessed overhead lighting making John blink.

  Sean smiled down at him, his lips were a rosy red and cheeks flushed with warm blood. He wasn’t pale like he was last night. He had fed. “I hope you didn’t wait too long. I went out.”

  “I know. I saw you leave.”

  “I know. I saw you sitting in your car down the street. You needed time, right?” Sean walked to the chair. “What’s in the bag, Johnny?”

  “Death. A stake and a hammer.”

  That’s pretty ballsy, human. Let me get you a drink. Back in a flash.” Sean moved faster than John could track. He was back with a tumbler of scotch in no time. The smokey contents sloshed in the glass a bit. “Scotch and water.”

  Father Bryant was nervous. There was something different about the vampire. There was an edge, a dangerous edge. Sean was playing with him like children teasing a puppy, not cruel, but showing John he was the weak party.

  “Thanks for the drink.” John brought the glass to his lips but smelled the contents before taking a drink. Sean smiled at the slight hesitation.

  “I’m not going to poison you. That would be a ridiculous thing to do.” Sean said.

  “Why am I here?”

  “You know why. You sussed it out, like a detective in front of a neon billboard. You always were the bright one, Johnny.” Sean smiled like a serrated knife. In the blink of an eye he grabbed John and jerked him out of the chair. The glass of scotch fell from his hands and shattered on the floor, the brown liquid and broken glass shimmering on the hardwood. He was captured, unable to move, arms pinioned to his sides. The steel embrace made breathing difficult. Sean’s face was inches away, white fangs gleamed in his mouth.

  “We should really talk about vampires.” Sean whispered gently. “Rule one, the first and most important rule, really; never trust a vampire. Because no matter how well you know them or think you can trust them, we are monsters.” Sean shut his luminous eyes but still was holding him like a child would when crushing a doll. “Killing a vampire is not as easy as you obviously think. We are faster than humans. You saw just the barest of examples; thought becomes action instantaneously. Restraining you takes no effort.”

  Fear was starting to overwhelm Father Bryant, his arms were pinned to his sides. The thought that this was a good idea had fled. Sean was showing him what he had gravely misunderstood. He tilted his head to the side and bit into the muscle behind the priest’s jugular vein. It was almost painless but still John moaned. Was it pain or pleasure? He wasn’t certain.

  The fangs retreated and blood trickled out, compared to actually puncturing the jugular this was nothing. John could hear his heart beating in his ears as he thought he was going to die. Sean took a taste of the hot blood and flung the priest into the chair behind him.

  Father Bryant placed his hand to his neck and felt the wound. It was small, it wouldn’t kill him. He pulled his hand back and looked at it. Bright red blood stained his fingers. He looked at Sean. “Why did you stop? You could’ve killed me easily.”

  Sean loomed over him. “I know.” He moved gracefully to the other chair and sat down. “I needed to teach you a lesson. If you are going to kill vampires or any supernatural being you must be careful. They aren’t human and they don’t think like you. They will fight you. Underestimate them and you're dead. We’re clever, how else could we escape detection for this long? I will surrender shortly and you can pound a stake through my heart. I loathe this life. I need it to end.”

  “Why did you let me live?”

  “I wouldn't kill you, you’re my friend. Maybe my only true friend.” Sean looked at the priest who was staring at the floor in front of him. He had to plead his case. “When a priest loses faith he must either leave the church or find something to reaffirm his beliefs. If he can’t reaffirm his belief he finds something to keep himself going. I built a church. You? Well, you’ve lost your calling. I suggest you take up a hammer and stake and go hunt down vampires. It is revolutionary to start a war with the supernatural, but there it is.” Sean smiled. “A supernatural revolutionary. Consider it a holy mission. Just not one the church should know about.”

  “This is really impossible, implausible. I feel like I’m going to wake up in my bed.” John said. “The church, good God, how could I explain this to the bishop? He would never believe me.

  I’m having a hard time believing it and I’m here.”

  “Don’t tell anyone about my idea. That’d be foolish. They’d lock you up for believing in the existence of vampires. They’d think you were nuts. This is something you do in private; that is if you choose to do it at all. I wouldn’t blame you if you just forgot this has happened. There is a good chance you wouldn’t live out the year if you took this challenge up. The evil out there is strong, and you are inexperienced. You could live another forty years and never see another vampire. We aren’t looking out to hang out with priests. Your occupation keeps you safer than most people. Though being a priest doesn’t make you completely immune. I’m proof of that. Vampires are discreet, remember that. Any kills are covered up."

  Sean regarded the priest for a minute as he was immersed in thought. “Well?” Sean asked. “What’s it going to be?”

  “This is too insane. If I were to believe my eyes... I laid you to rest myself, but here you are, sitting in front of me.” John stared at the floor, thinking. By not looking at Sean he was able to deny the truth in front of him, if only for a few more moments. “I can’t get the innocent victims out of my mind. How many people have you killed? It’s been five years, did you kill someone every night?”

  “Let’s do the math; 365 x 5, hmm, that’s something in the range of 1800 people. That’s a lot of bodies to hide.” Sean smiled like a shark. “No. Not every night.” His demeanor changed and a haunted look crossed his face. “But I’ve done things to survive... Things I never thought I could do. In the end, the choice is yours.”

  “No, it’s not my choice.” John was angry. “You set me up. You presented yourself in such a way I don’t have a choice. You know me well en
ough to know which buttons to push to make me do what you want.”

  “Yes, I do.” The vampire nodded.

  “Fine. To Hell with you and your kind.” John now hated the creature before him. He was trapped. “I’ll start this by killing you.”

  “Excellent.” Sean smiled wide showing his fangs. “I knew your sense of morality wouldn’t let you walk away from this. You’re a decent man. Always were.” Sean paused for a moment, lost in thought. “Upstairs in my… well, box… coffin, is a paper. There’s a list of cities where I know vampires are active. It’s almost always big cities. The bigger, the better. Places where deaths can be overlooked. Places where people come and go without notice. It’s not much of a legacy, but it should get you started.” Sean moved quickly and grabbed the bag from the floor. There was a clunk of wood as he picked it up. Here’s the bag. Here I am. Go to work.”

  Father Bryant stared at the imposing figure before him. Slowly he rose from the chair. The bag dangled in front of him. With shaking hands he took it from Sean. The vampire lashed out with blinding speed and tore the bag open. Before the sledge and stake could fall to the floor he snatched them from the air.

  “I’m not showboating, just making a point.” Sean said.

  “No. You’re showing off, but I get it.” John dropped the ruined bag and took the tools from Sean’s hands.

  “Pound the stake through my heart. After that decapitate me or expose me to the sun. If the head leaves the body there is nothing that can bring a vampire back. We can heal most injuries if given time and blood, but not that. The sun or fire will destroy a vampire completely.”

  “Lie down on the floor.”

  Sean lay down. John got down on his knees, a liturgical position he had taken thousands of times before. But not for such a task. He placed the point of the stake above the heart, and lifted the hammer. “May God have mercy on your soul.”

  “I hope so too.”

  The hammer froze in the air.

  “Do it!” the vampire hissed, “Now!”

  The priest broke out of his trance and slammed the sledgehammer down on the stake with all of his might. The first blow crushed the sternum with a sickening crack, and the vampire gave out a bloodcurdling scream which shook the priest’s soul. He stared down at the face twisted in pain.

  “Finish it, by God, or I will kill you!” Sean shouted in pain and rage.

  The sledge fell again and again. The vampire writhed in pain as the wood pierced his heart. One last shudder shook his tall frame and he lay still, eyes staring dully out of the pale, white face.

  Father Bryant fell backward, horrified and exhausted by the exertion. He crossed himself and said a prayer for the dead, the same prayer he spoke five years earlier. “You're free now.” He let the sledgehammer fall from his hand. It made a loud sound in the silence. His ears were ringing from the sheer volume of the inhuman screaming. Oh God, the screaming. It reverberated inside his skull making it hard to think. The memory of that sound would stay with him forever, he was sure of that.

  John dragged the surprisingly light body over to the east facing window and opened the curtains. He would wait for the sun to destroy it. He didn’t know to bring a saw to cut off the head. He sat down in the chair again, silent. The body lay on the floor by the window. Dawn was hours away. It had not occurred to him the screams which had shocked him would be heard by anyone else. As he sat gathering his wits he heard the distant mournful song of police sirens.

  John quickly looked about him. This was a murder scene straight out of a Hammer vampire movie. Christopher Lee’s Dracula lay dead on the floor with a stake in his heart, and Peter Cushing’s Van Helsing was now panicked about destroying the body. John ran upstairs. It was dark. There were a number of doors on the upper level, a set of double doors were open. A soft light emanated from the room. John entered. There was a coffin on the floor and many lit candles in the room. Heavy floor length curtains covered the windows. John took several candles and set the curtains on fire. As the fire started climbing up the drapes John went back to the coffin and looked in. A sheet of paper with Sean’s meticulous handwriting rested on the pillow. John grabbed it and shoved it in his pocket. He still had to destroy the murder scene on the floor below. He grabbed a thick candle in each hand and went back downstairs. The sirens were closer. Was it just one cop car? Was the blaze on the upper floor visible to outside observers?

  He started the downstairs ablaze, but the fire wouldn’t get to Sean’s corpse quickly enough. He needed to burn Sean now. John scooped up the body. It was light and the skin was oddly fragile and papery to the touch. The stake in Sean’s chest was moving around loosely as he carried the body upstairs. The fire had grown quickly. He rushed into the room and heaved the corpse into the biggest part of the fire. Sean’s body burst into flame and burned with a surprising aggressiveness. He watched for a moment as flames quickly destroyed his friend.

  Smoke and heat drove him downstairs. The sirens had arrived outside, probably the police. They would be calling the fire department. The blaze upstairs could be seen; smoke seeped out of the structure. John glanced into the burning sitting room then fled down the hallway to the dark kitchen. There had to be a back door for him to escape out of, or maybe a window.

  He passed through the empty dark kitchen to the back door. He opened it and looked outside. Noise and alarm could be heard growing as the neighborhood awoke to the fire and sirens. The small back yard was overgrown with weeds and empty. John closed the door behind him and descended the steps to the backyard. He reached the gate to the alley and opened it. He looked both ways, there was no one to be seen up or down the alley. He started walking to the street at the end of the alley. His car was waiting down the street. Apparently he had the common sense not to park directly in front of the townhouse, but not enough common sense to not kill a vampire and burn down a building.

  What a strange night it had been. It was a strange start to a journey which might ultimately kill him. He reached the end of the alley. It was half a block from the burning building. His car was on the street to his left. There were more sirens and he could see fire trucks rushing by to get to the blaze. It wasn’t just one house burning. Two townhouses shared walls on either side of Sean’s building and the risk to them was very real. John walked toward the street where his car was parked. A curious onlooker drawn out of his home to see what the sirens were about.

  From the end of the block he could see the fire had grown much larger. There were firemen with hoses aiming water on the fire and the houses next to it to protect them. He should have thought it out better. He put innocent bystanders at risk. At least the fire should destroy all traces of him being there. What had he left behind? The sledgehammer and the ripped bag. The stake had burned with Sean’s body. And the glass with his fingerprints fragmented on the floor and burned in the fire.

  John pulled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the car door. A small crowd had grown outside on the street to watch the inferno. He got in his car and started the engine. Was anyone paying attention to him? A stranger in an old car leaving the scene of a fire? John carefully pulled out of the parking space mindful of the situation. Since the street in front of him was blocked by emergency vehicles he did a very cautious U turn. He drove away with no urgency but didn’t drive directly home. He took a circuitous route back to the church. He didn't expect to be noticed or followed but better safe than sorry.

  Arriving at the church late, he parked the car in his spot and shut off the engine. The magnitude of his actions were sinking in. He had killed a friend who, admittedly was a vampire- and burned down a building. He'd never done anything like that. It wasn’t in his nature and he never considered anything of the sort possible.

  The house was dark and cold when he entered. He locked the door behind him to shut out the horrors he had seen and done. There was an unknown world out there. Sean had mentioned vampires and hinted to other supernatural things. What did he mean? If vampires were real it opened
his imagination to a myriad of horrors too crazy to consider.

  John sat down with a glass of scotch to calm his nerves and hopefully numb him. He remembered the piece of paper he retrieved from Sean’s casket and pulled it out of his pocket. Eight cities were listed, written in Sean’s fine script.

  Boston, New York City, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Chicago, Dallas, Miami, Seattle. It made sense. All were big cities. All had populations for hunting where people could disappear without supernatural reasons. The list was not specific. It didn’t give any addresses or neighborhoods, or any specific place for him to begin. Where to start? Las Vegas was closest to Colorado. He knew the town because his little sister Lori lived there with her son, Kevin. He would start his quest there.

  In the morning he would start planning. Now it was time to go to bed. If he could just fall asleep.

  Chapter 4

  Pas de Duex

  Father Bryant, dressed in a slightly out of fashion suit, checked into a Travel Lodge motel on Tropicana Avenue only a mile or so from the Las Vegas Strip. The two hour flight had been easy, even though there was turbulence over the crest of the Rockies when they hit the jet stream. The pilot quickly climbed higher to find clearer, calmer air.

  John could have driven. He’d done it before when visiting his sister, but flying was much quicker than an eleven hour drive during the cusp of winter. If the highways were clear the drive was scenic. If there was snow, delays were almost certain. There would be snow at higher elevations as it had started snowing in the Rockies. It was a drive best left for summer and it would push his old car more than he wanted. A priest gets by with whatever car they can. It’s not a job one takes to get rich and acquire expensive things. His car was good, serviceable for going around the city but the Rocky Mountains were a challenge for the second hand ‘78 Chrysler Cordoba. He would rent a car at McCarren Airport after he arrived.