Scarlet Curse: A Vampire Mystery Romance: (Cursed Vampire Book 1)

by T. H. Hunter

  “Well, I don’t know, but it’s probably going to be a long way before we can turn invisible,” I said.

  “What do you mean?” asked Lynn.

  I told them the whole story of how I had found myself in the hospital bed, the talk with Doctor Yurasov and the astonishing demonstration of his skill.

  “You’ve actually met Yurasov?” asked a haughty-looking blonde girl who had been listening in to our conversation from the far end of our table.

  “Yeah, but who…” I said, tailing off. It just occurred to me that I had been so occupied by disbelief that I hadn’t even asked him.

  “He’s the castle’s Second Warden,” said Jayden, who had been listening with great interest to the story about Doctor Yurasov. “That’s like a Vice-President. Second in command. He also teaches history.”

  “And he takes care of the library, too,” said Lynn.

  “They really must be worried about the Slayers if they got him involved,” said Jayden. “They weren’t this active in years.”

  “Exactly,” the blonde girl said in a superior tone, her eyes flashing towards Jayden, who was sitting next to her. “The Scarlet Curse is nothing but trouble for us vampires. She’s not even a proper vampire.”

  “You say that again,” I said, standing up, my blood boiling.

  Perhaps she was right, I didn’t know, but I wasn’t going to take a slur from anyone.

  There was a general ruckus around the table as people hastily stepped in to prevent a confrontation. The blonde girl looked surprised but satisfied at the same time. And from that moment onward, I knew we’d be enemies.

  ***

  Back at the hut, an hour later, I was still seething from the encounter.

  “She’s nasty,” Lynn said.

  “So who is she anyway?” I asked.

  “Her name’s Vanessa Demaine,” Anastasia said. “She’s been here several weeks already. Causing trouble ever since.”

  “How come?” I asked.

  “She thinks she’s better than everyone else. She’s from one of the oldest vampire families in Europe. Someone told me that she’s even related to the Royal Family, though I don’t know whether that’s true.”

  “The Royal Family?” I asked, immediately thinking of a vampire strolling around in Buckingham Palace.

  “They rule most of the Vampire world, except for a few groups they call outlaws. King Rurik has ruled since his father abdicated after the war against the Slayers. Though he’s pretty old now.”

  “So… vampires get old, too?” I asked.

  “Yeah, only way slower. I think that’s why a lot of humans think they’re immortal. Anyway, King Rurik is pretty sick, too. People haven’t seen him for ages, at least that’s what I heard.”

  “Can vampires get ill, then?”

  “It’s certainly possible but vampire bodies are usually much more resistant. That’s what’s strange about the King’s illness. Apparently they haven’t found out what it is yet, either. The Queen has taken his place in the Vampiric Council.”

  “So what happens if the King dies?”

  “I don’t know. Nobody knows, I guess. And I’ve been pretty cut off from any news since coming here. They don’t tell the Uninitiated very much. Nothing really. All my brothers came here, though. They really loved it. Except for the Trial, that is.”

  “Well, that’s encouraging,” I said drily. “Any pointers on what it might be?”

  Lynn shook her head.

  “They wouldn’t tell me. I must have asked them a million times, believe me. It’s a secret everyone’s really fierce about guarding. All they said was that the character testing part is really important. And that the vampires want loyalty above all else.”

  ***

  The upcoming Trial dominated the rest of the week. Nobody seemed to know or even had any inkling of what the Trial might entail. The general consensus was that training as hard as possible couldn’t hurt. I felt much stronger and fitter now, and my leg had healed much faster than it normally would have, but so far I hadn’t noticed any other difference. I wouldn’t be turning invisible anytime soon, that much was clear.

  The days raced by with alarming speed, leaving most people in a state of panic. Even Jayden, who had been selected as first for the remainder of the week, looked tired and pale, with bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep. For most other people, though, wishful thinking was all that remained. The Trial seemed an insurmountable hurdle.

  7

  On the day of the Trial, Doctor Wiley met us at the clearing before breakfast. I hadn’t seen him since his operatic entrance a week earlier, as Mr. Vox had taken care of handing out the elixir to us in the meantime. For the occasion, Doctor Wiley had slipped into an extravagant, black ceremonial robe with gold trimmings. Mr. Vox, however, wore his usual white coat.

  “This is it,” Doctor Wiley said. “The Trial, everyone. You’ve been training hard, and I wish nothing but the best of luck to each and every one of you. You’ll receive your elixir for one last time from Mr. Vox now.”

  He gestured toward the chest and Mr. Vox.

  “I will hopefully see you all at the initiation ceremony tonight,” Doctor Wiley said. “Good luck!”

  After receiving our phials, we followed Mr. Vox up the hill to the village. Lynn and I walked side by side, for once at odds with our effortless conversation of the previous days. Many of the villagers were standing outside, curious to see this year’s Uninitiated. I was so nervous that I hadn’t been able to eat anything at all at breakfast. The long procession toward the castle only increased the tension within me, though it certainly felt better to move than staying put somewhere and waiting.

  “Are you nervous?” Lynn asked me at last.

  “Yeah,” I said, with a lump in my throat. “You?”

  “M-hmm,” she said. “And I think I’m first. My last name’s Adams, you see.”

  Her voice was shaky.

  We moved along in silence for a little while longer.

  “Stop,” came Mr. Vox’s voice from the front.

  We had left the village and passed the hospital where I had first arrived. Mr. Vox, list in hand, ordered us to form a line, and started reading out our names in alphabetical order. Lynn was indeed the first to be called up.

  “You’ll be fine, Lynn,” I said. “Fingers crossed.”

  “Thanks, Beccs.”

  More determined, Lynn moved towards the front of the line. Mr. Vox kept calling up students until it was my turn.

  “Flynn, Rebecca, and Frick, Steve.”

  In contrast with his usual tan, Steve’s face was as white as robes. We exchanged a brief glance, nodded encouragingly to one another, and then got in line.

  After everyone’s name had been called, we moved forward again. The road was a steep climb, becoming narrower and narrower, until only a small cart might have been able to pass along it. At either side, a deep chasm gaped up at me. I forced myself to look up again. I had always disliked heights but it had got worse in recent years.

  Blocking the castle’s gates from view was a high yellow tent, with only a small entrance at its centre. We entered, with Mr. Vox leading the way in. The tent was much longer than I had expected, and the Uninitiated formed a makeshift queue inside.

  “You will wait here until you are called,” Mr. Vox said, though the tent was so narrow I couldn’t see him at the front. “Any information passed on to the Uninitiated will lead to immediate disqualification.”

  The waiting period was almost unendurable. The tent was hot and smelt of fear and plastic. Some people were talking, trying to ease their nerves, but most just stared ahead or at the tent’s ceiling. After a few minutes, Lynn was called, and total silence fell immediately. There was a brief shuffling of feet at the head of the queue. I held my breath, trying to glean any information about the Trial from sound alone.

  I listened hard, but it was very difficult to make out anything specific. There was clanking of metal. I also thought I heard the flapping of wings, or
had that just been the wind?

  Minutes passed, nothing seemed to be happening. Lynn was out there, and it was impossible to help her or even know what was going on. Suddenly, out of nowhere, we heard the most blood-curdling cry, which died away just as fast. After a few seconds, the same strange metallic cranking sound followed. Nobody spoke, and then the entire tent buzzed with nervous conversation and anxious questions.

  “Remain where you are,” Mr. Vox’s voice boomed throughout the tent. “Bentham, Harry.”

  Had something serious happened to Lynn? The way she had screamed seemed to confirm my worst fears. From what Doctor Yurasov had told me, the vampires needed new recruits badly. Surely, then, they wouldn’t let anyone get hurt during the Trial.

  Or would they? A small voice at the back of mind brought up all those uncomfortable little details from the past week. A war with the Slayers was looming. Who was to say that the Trial would be safe from any risk? Secrecy was the vampires’ ultimate concern. Whatever the surveillance power of the gargoyles, it would certainly not be in the vampires’ interest to have a bunch of disgruntled people who had failed the Trial hanging around in the village, trying to escape every other day, or reveal their secrets. Perhaps there had been the a deeper reason why Doctor Yurasov had been so adamant that I pass the Trial.

  The line gradually moved forward, though I still couldn’t see Mr. Vox. The Trial seemed to take very long for some, and almost no time for others. Shrieks and cries continued to pierce the air at regular intervals. Steve, standing beside me, seemed in a state of concentration – or perhaps it was silent shock – for he was staring ahead, unblinking and unresponsive.

  I tried to focus my mind. Whatever would happen, there was no other way now but to get through this alive. Escape would be impossible. Today of all days, I was sure, the gargoyles would be particularly vigilant.

  There was only one girl ahead of Steve and me now. We could feel a breeze of fresh air from here. The exit lay to our right, though the overlapping walls of the tent prevented us from seeing anything outside. Mr. Vox, guarding the exit and looking as detached as ever, perused his list.

  “Flynn, Rebecca,” he said, his voice as devoid of emotion as ever.

  Steve turned to me.

  “Good luck, Beccs,” he said, with a slightly croaky voice.

  “Thanks, Steve,” I said. “You too.”

  I moved forward to where Mr. Vox was standing. Our eyes met briefly. His expression remained perfectly impassive.

  I turned the corner and stepped out into the open. The sight that greeted me sent shockwaves of fear through my body.

  The castle’s main gate and walls loomed over me, with hundreds of gargoyles perched atop the battlements, like a menacing parody of spectators to a football game. The battlements were adorned with various banners of black and red, with an assortment of symbols or emblems. Above, I could make out several human figures, perhaps a dozen or so, dressed in black. They were standing perfectly still, like judges about to pronounce a sentence.

  In front of me, the narrow path snaked its way ahead, culminating in a small wooden bridge, leading to a stone platform. On its far side, the castle’s drawbridge was lowered onto it. The path, apparently, was open.

  Carefully, I stepped forward. Of course, it couldn’t be a matter of simply walking into the castle. They would try to prevent me from crossing somehow. I began to walk casually toward the first bridge, keeping my eyes locked on the gargoyles above. My previous encounter with them had taught me how fast they were. I was ready to start sprinting at the smallest sign.

  Sphinx-like, they remained where they were, though their dark eyes were following my every move. About half-way across the wooden bridge, the familiar yet mysterious clanking sound began anew. The drawbridge was slowly but steadily being drawn up.

  There was only one thing to do, and I reacted without hesitation. I sprinted in its direction as fast as I could. I was gaining speed.

  But at that moment, I heard the flapping of enormous wings, dozens of gargoyles had taken off, diving in my direction.

  I was almost at the platform, ready to pounce onto the drawbridge. At last, I reached the platform and dived forward as far as I could, spinning wildly in the air and just barely gripping the edge of the drawbridge with my fingers. I swung precariously from the edge, but I hardened my hold. The beasts were close, but with my last remaining energy, I heaved myself up and rolled down the ascending drawbridge on the other side, hitting the stone ground directly in front of the gates with a painful smack of flesh on the hard surface.

  Before I could even get up, two gargoyles grabbed me, their claws piercing my shoulders. I yelled and struggled, lashing out wildly around me, yet more of the beasts closed in on me, drawing me up into the air through the gap between the gate and the drawbridge.

  They flew over to the platform and hurled me onto to it. My hands and arms were cut and bloody from hitting the rough stone rock. Painfully, I turned. The drawbridge was almost up now. Even worse, a dozen gargoyles had formed an impenetrable wall in mid-air. There was no way getting passed them. Even if I jumped again, they’d easily catch me. When the drawbridge had kissed the stone of the castle’s gates, all but one of them took off, rejoining their brethren on the battlements.

  The remaining gargoyle flapped toward me. It looked like the biggest and meanest of the lot, with massive wings propelling its huge body toward me. I forced myself to stand, to brace myself for the attack.

  Yet the attack never came. Instead, it produced a folded piece of paper, thrusting it roughly in my direction. The gleam in its eye was dangerous, though not uncurious. I hesitated, then reached out and took the paper. Immediately, the beast took off, and left me alone on the platform.

  I slowly unfolded it, reading the following words:

  The body squirms, the mind unfolds its will

  To reach another shore beyond its reach,

  Yet will alone cannot provide the skill

  To land and live and thrive at this new beach,

  Vampiric Might shall be attained in time,

  When Faith and Loyalty has swelled your bliss

  Through Sacrifice that purges doubt and crime

  By facing bravely the abyss.

  Great. A riddle. Just what I needed. I had always hated these guessing games at school. The situation, however, was entirely different now.

  I racked my brains, reading the poem again. Yet will alone cannot provide the skill. Well, that was certainly encouraging. It was also perfectly true, of course. It was impossible to jump the distance, and would have been so even for the likes of Jayden. Yet how did they expect me to get there, then?

  I read the second stanza again. A horrible feeling swept over me as I read it, and I recalled what Lynn had told me about the vampires. That the vampires value loyalty above all else. They wanted me to trust them fully and blindly.

  The Trial wasn’t about skill. It never had been. All those hours of training and practicing, measuring distances and taking times, it had all been an elaborate cover. They wanted total and utter commitment, proof of how badly I wanted to be part of their world.

  And they wanted me to demonstrate it. But how? An awful prickly feeling at the back of my neck told me that I already knew. I read the poem again. By facing bravely the abyss.

  I stepped forward to the very edge of the platform. It was quiet all around me. I looked down. My head was spinning, my knees shaking. The chasm enveloped me like a whirlwind. I raised my head to gaze up at the gargoyles, who returned my stare, unblinking and immovable.

  It was a massive gamble. If I had misunderstood the poem in some way, there was nothing but hard rock to break my fall. Nobody could survive that, so much was clear.

  I looked back at the tent for the last time. Not a sound came from the remaining Uninitiated. There was no turning back. This was the moment that I had to trust myself, trust my instincts.

  I took one last deep breath. And then, I stepped off the cliff.


  8

  I yelled in fear, I was dropping fast, but none of the gargoyles above me had moved an inch. I was going to die.

  But then I heard the flapping of wings from below me, a swarm of gargoyles must have been waiting below, hidden somehow. This time, I willingly submitted to their clasps as they caught me. Their grips were firm, and the flood of adrenaline was superseded by a rush of gratitude, grateful to be alive.

  They carried me high above the castle’s towers, and for the first time I could see its full beauty, its majesty only matched by the Carpathians stretching as far as the eye could see into the horizon. I was surprised at how far the castle extended, much longer than I had imagined.

  The gargoyles’ grip tightened and we descended into the courtyard below. They flapped furiously yet powerfully against gravity. The landing was soft this time, directly in front of the castle’s keep.

  My knees finally gave way, and I fell on all fours. It was so good to be back on solid ground again, I could have kissed the stone in front of me. Shaking, I steadied myself and got up. I was so glad to be alive. So glad to live.

  There was a sombre man with a pencil moustache at the large wooden door in front of me.

  I greeted the man, who responded courteously and opened the doors for me.

  “Inside and to the left,” he said.

  “Thanks,” I replied.

  It was impossible not to grin, not to feel elated. At the same time, I knew that this was what the vampires had designed the initiation to be – what they had wanted from me. And there was no denying it – it had worked.

  I entered into some sort of antechamber. To my left, an archway led me to a corridor. Torches had been lit along the rough stone walls, although the light coming through the small windows was still more than enough, at least for the time being. But who knows how long the Trial would still take?

  Suddenly, I bumped into something soft and flabby.

  “Careful,” came a gruff yet familiar voice.