Demon Vampire (The Redgold Series)

by Virgil Allen Moore

  Will's question was both broad and severely personal. It provoked an equally vague response from Malio. “Faded memories. I wander back. Faded memories. I want them back. I want them all back.” Malio said as if he recited it from a poem. “You ask me why?” Malio scooted closer to Will without getting up. “That's exactly what I want to know as well. In my case, four people know the answer. In your case, it's because I got an idea in my head.” Malio leaned into Will's face and smiled. “Does that make you feel any better? Knowing that I've taken your life away from you doesn't change the fact that you are going to die. It won't help your family to sleep at night. They all think you're already dead. So tell me, what good is it to you that you now know this one little insignificant piece of information?”

  “I can die with grace.” Will said softly.

  Will's answer astounded Malio. He had never known such a thing. His entire life was either being punished or feeling strife for those who hurt him. Grace was foreign to Malio, a conceptual ideology that was only mentioned to him and never shown. Grace was beyond Malio now and he knew it. That's why Will's words struck him with sadness. Of all the things he had done to Will, the blood, the filth, the dismemberment, Will still retained his grace. A quality that Malio would never have.

  The day had come for the solar eclipse. It was the day Will would die. Malio prepared Will by chaining him to a large wooden plank that he drug outside into the bright sunlight. Will was so weak that his skin began to dry up the moment it hit the open sky. Will's mind was still present, a fact that Malio had taken time to ensure. They had been talking for so long that in a way, Malio had come to befriend Will. In Malio's mind he hadn't actually done anything wrong. Will just happened to be on the mainland when Malio needed a vampeal. Will didn't hate Malio either, he pitied him for having such a demented perception of the world.

  Malio flipped the plank upside down, hanging Will from his feet, replanting him into the ground. He was planning on bleeding him from the neck directly. From what Malio was told about the ritual, the blood from the recently slain vampire was to be placed into a silver box and allowed to bask in full view of a solar eclipse. After the eclipse had passed, the blood would be transformed into a crystal form referred to as Redgold, that would later be consumed. Therefore changing the weakened virus into the complete strain with the missing elements of the full vampire. The ritual made the vampeal into a real vampire. All the pieces were there, the only difference was that Malio was substituting a vampeal in the process. He truly didn't know what would come of it. He could merely become a vampire, or end up dead. With normal Redgold, if a full vampire consumed it, the reaction was poison, and the blood would contend the foreign strain. If the Redgold was made from a vampire of equal or greater age to the recipient, the vampire would die. Will was older than Malio, there was a clear risk. Malio didn't care. The chance of gaining a new gift was worth the price of death if it came to that. It was preferable to his current life.

  Malio set up his instruments to gouge and bleed Will. “So, do you have any last words to leave me with? Any dying poems you've been working on that you want to share? Or do you not have the Will left to do so?” Malio was trying to push Will's buttons in the remaining minutes that he had.

  Will slowly and with great effort turned his stiffened neck towards Malio and said something that was too faint to hear.

  “What? What was that? You do have something to say? Please, enlighten me.” Malio crouched down to Will's mouth and put his right ear to it.

  Softly and with conviction Will spoke. “Today I get to die. I get to do the one thing that you will not. Today, my pain ends with my death. Today, is the first day that you will gain the power you seek. You will live for many years and obtain the gifts of many vampeals, but you will not find the one thing you give me this day.”

  “And what the hell is that Will?” Malio was irritated.

  “The humility to live in peace.” Will's words faded as he ended. His breath was leaving him. In his one final act of defiance, Will had given up trying to live. He died the moment before the sun was obscured.

  Malio was unnerved. Deep in the recesses of his dreams, Malio knew that Will was right. He didn't like it, he hated it. It meant that with every act of violence Malio propagated the loss of his own soul. He was selling himself, the pieces of his own persona to enact his eventual revenge of the four other heirs. For a second, a long painful second, Malio felt sadness for losing the last precious bits of his childhood demeanor, his innocence. Malio was no longer naive, he had been tempered by anguish and loathing. Malio knew that he died the minute Will did. The difference was that Will was at peace and Malio wasn't.

  The second passed and Malio ran the tips of his fingers through Will's chest and tore downward to the bucket underneath the corpse. Blood spewed forth from the body as Malio came to terms with what he now was. He was deviant, deranged, violent, cruel, strange, and quite honestly flagitious.

  And he knew it.

  Malio accepted what he now was. He gathered the majority of the blood and poured it into the silver reflecting box. The sun was setting above and the light was retreating from the sky. The ultraviolet was starting to burn Malio's skin. The box reacted by bubbling and boiling. The blood condensed and funneled into a small lower point at the bottom of the box. Steam wafted from the blood as it crystallized. The seconds ran long as Malio stared at the newly formed Redgold. The eclipse passed and the sun lit the day once again. It was over. All that was left to do was to ingest it.

  Malio looked down at his hands as he reached for the Redgold. There were boils covering his unprotected arm. The ultraviolet ray had tried to convert the blood in his veins while it was still flowing. It had damaged the flesh and raised his body temperature dangerously high. Malio felt a heat that he had never known. When he was still human, he had never had a fever, he was always kept high in the castle and away from any disease or germs. This was unique, a general warmth that swept from across his heart. He was kissed by a death from above.

  Malio let the feeling run its course. He waited until after sunset to approach the Redgold. The time was spent in contemplation. Malio recognized that if he did survive, he was going to have to lure Teresa to his island somehow. He was going to trap her without Martin's knowledge of departure, it was the only way to accomplish his goals. Malio took a hold of the shinny crystallized Redgold. It flaked in his hand, the edges were thin, and crumbled with his touch. Crisp chips of blood fell and shattered on the stone floor. Malio opened his mouth, fangs perched ready, he bit through the outer crust and was surprised by the gooey creamy center.

  Malio could think of only one word, which he spoke out loud. “Delicious.” The taste was unlike any other he ever had. It was special. He had heard that Redgold was different, but not this striking. The years of torture, the pain, the methodical ritual, it was all worth it. All for this moment to taste Will's turned blood.

  The Redgold flowed into Malio's stomach and through his system. The same rush he had once felt years ago came over him. It was the same, yet thicker, more potent. Malio could sense the weight of everything around him, as if he was connected to each object. He was able to push, to pull, the gift had manifested in him and solidified. Malio didn't feel physically stronger. The only change was the addition of the gift. Malio had not turned into a full vampire, he was still a vampeal. Leading Malio to one single conclusion.

  “I can do it again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. I can do it all over again. Again, I can have more. So many, many, many more. Again. I have to do it again.” Malio's laughter was hysterical. He was happy. Maddeningly insane, but happy in his own sick way. He had formed a machination.

  * * * *

  Seventy eight years came and went as Malio became obsessed with the addition of two things, gifts and torture. Month after month Malio sent out more and more bounty hunters to find vampeals in the several nearby countries. He paid kings' ransoms for them and most of the time he did actually pay. Malio fe
lt that killing too many hunters would eventually lead to a decline in willing participants to find his beloved new gifts. Malio did however enjoy killing the hunters that brought back vampeals with useless gifts. The ability to change one's eye color was not a particularly helpful advantage in the situations that Malio planned to be in.

  When the solar eclipses would come, Malio traveled to the epicenter of their birth and waited for weeks to let his bounties come in. During the eclipses, he harvested multiple gifts from several vampeals. Malio had gained the ability to burn living things without flames, the ability to chill the air around him by up to fifty degrees. Others included turning water to oil, steel to iron, wood to rot, dirt to glass, and to be able to create a spark for tender at a distance. An odd assortment of gifts that Malio planned to creatively use in the long running scheme of things. In addition to those, Malio prided himself on acquiring the ability to draw water out of thin air and fill buckets at will. In Malio's mind, it was a step apart from Jesus as Malio proclaimed it to be. The gift of ice was a very useful tool in Malio's arsenal. He used it to preserve the blood of the vampeals that were killed during the 'extraction process' as Malio put it. Every time the hunters brought back a corpse, Malio froze it and simply waited. Malio had even found the one gift that he knew would solidify his position as the greatest vampire in the world, immunity to the sun. Malio was unable to obtain it. The large team of hunters were faithfully retrieving many vampeals for Malio over the years. However they ended up bringing this vampeal back long dead. Malio saw no more reason to employ them. He killed them all by using their own swords to run them through with his gift. He let their bodies lay on his porch for months as other hunters watched the vultures pick them clean. It was a sign to never let Malio down. Since he paid upfront to fund each hunting party, he knew that it might take years to get each vampeal. Malio was perfectly fine with that, failure, he was not.

  With many deadly and unique gifts at his disposal, Malio set his eyes on Teresa. He knew that any direct attempt on her life would instantly lead Martin's armies to his island. From there, Martin would hang him with just cause. Malio thought long, for endless days, eventually coming to the conclusion that he must lure her of her own twisted accord. Malio had to take something that was to capture her own selfish attention. It had to be something that would drive her without the need to inform Martin.

  Malio sat in his study, thinking out loud. “A tryst, no. She would have a ready supply of lovers at her back chamber door. A family member?” Malio tapped slowly twice on his granite desk. “Possibly. Now who?”

  A messenger from his father arrived at the front of the island castle. He was staggered inside. The news was important. Something that Malio needed to hear.

  Malio ran, opened his window, and causally stepped out. He fell quickly and struck the ground with a thud. The messenger turned around in surprise. The new castle staff merely tried to hide their disdain. Malio did not pay them enough to dig graves. Let alone, act calm as a new girl was brought in to be slaughtered for the night.

  “Lord Malio, Lord Malio, I have news about the king.” The messenger knelt down on one knee and raised a rolled parchment into the air with both hands.

  “You mean from a king.” Malio corrected him. “To say 'about the king' would mean something entirely different. And to suggest that ill luck has fallen on my father.”

  “But it has my lord. It is about Ifrin Signante. That is why I am here.” The messenger said with hesitation.

  Malio took the letter from the messenger's hands. The seal was from Martin's kingdom. Malio broke open the note and read it with speed. Malio spoke out loud as the words rang in his mind. “By decree of the royal Lord Martin of the three united kingdoms. The kingship and all lands once held under the first vampire lord Ifrin Signante have been collected so that they may be added to high king Martin's increasing new domain. Lord Martin has taken these lands after the first vampire lord Ifrin Signante recently perished from natural causes a few days ago. He feels a great sadness for your loss, Prince Malio. Therefore he is asking where to send a large shipment of gold as payment for your previously entitled lands and holdings. Do not worry about your servants, most have already become adjusted to the change in throne. As for your personal belongings, we will of course be shipping them with the gold. King Martin is sorry for you loss, but hopes that this transition will be smooth and without objection. Signed, High King of the Three Kingdoms, Martin.”

  The anger was evident to all present. Most of the staff had gathered out of sheer curiosity to Malio's reading of the parchment. Everyone was there, everyone heard the contents of the letter. Malio no longer had a kingdom, a father, or a home to go back to. His exile had become his reality. Malio had been causally dethroned without any military upset at all. No one held loyal. No one defended his right to the land. Not one advisor, not one of his father's personal guards. No one argued that Malio should take control of his father's kingdom. This was unheard of in Malio's experience.

  A bright shade of red covered Malio's face. One of the older male cooks spoke up. “Are you okay Lord Malio?”

  The question itself was enough to set Malio off. He was no longer a lord at all. He was now a rich commoner with no title and no country. Malio said nothing. The fury gathered in him with a cold acceptance. As suddenly as this had come upon him, Malio lashed out. Every person, every living thing near him, including the cows in the adjacent stable and the horse the messenger rode in on. All of them were subject in Malio's overwhelming hatred made physical. With one action, all of them sank into themselves. The objects in the people's hands fell suddenly to the ground. The next moment, their skin began to blacken and char. Small pockets of water formed above them, dowsing them. The water turned to slick oil and then quickly caught fire. The shriveled masses crackled and popped as Malio walked away. His courtyard turned hell-scape.

  “Teresa is behind this.” Malio concluded. “Vampires don't die of natural causes, ever. She had to of had something to do with it. She poisoned him somehow, weakened him, and killed him. I have no qualms about using her family anymore. I want someone close to her. I will capture them. She will come and I will enact a horror with no equal upon her. A damning state of eternal loss from which death is not an escape. She will know my hell and pay for what she has done to all those who suffer her mark. Blood shall spill and her name will fall..”

  Malio gathered the stockpile of gold he had left in the castle. He tossed together several robes and outfits. He prepared the frozen vampeal blood for a long journey and threw everything into his personal carriage. The horse stable was located at the side of the castle and the stable boy, as well as the four horses there were still alive and unaware of what had happened at the front of the castle.

  Malio stormed up to the carriage. “Open it, now.”

  The young boy, no more than ten jumped up from an afternoon nap. “Yes, my lord.” The boy was dressed in tan linen and a brown vest. He didn't even have shoes on. The boy was fair skinned and had light brown hair and hazel eyes. He opened the carriage door.

  “Get the horses ready, we leave immediately.” Malio barked the orders at the boy.

  “Yes, my lord.” The boy answered.

  Malio sat back, and relaxed in the regal carriage. He thought of the long term and what this coo meant to his plans. “Also, bring some bread and water for yourself, this will be a long trip. And we will not return.”

  The boy peeked around from the front of the carriage reigns. “Yes my lord.”

  “Boy, what's your name?” Malio asked on a whim.

  “Willum, my lord.”

  “Willum.” Malio chuckled. The name bore a keen resemblance to the first vampeal he had spent so much time with. He knew that this boy would be his only servant for many years to come and by far his only conversation. “Will, your name will be Will from now on.”

  “Yes my lord. My name is now Will Stableborn.” Will said with pride.

  “Hah!” Malio yelped out loud
and chuckled a few times. This kid had either a great sense of blind obedience, or a good sense of humor. “I think we will get along quite nicely Will.”

  “It is my pleasure, my lord.” Will continued to place the bit and tackle on the horses.

  Within moments, the carriage burst out of the castle stable. Malio headed towards the shipping dock where the supplies arrived. His plan was to buy passage to the mainland and then to head back to Martin's newly formed country. It seemed that given the situation, Timothy and Phillipe would eventually trade their lands for a place at Martin's side and a full treasury.

  Within a month, Malio and Will had made it to the outer border of Martin's country.

  “Find a cave and hide. I will come looking for you in two days. Stay there and I will find you.” Malio dressed himself in long dark purple robes. A gold sash covered his mouth and a large black hood most of his face. The sun was setting behind him, in the direction of Martin's castle. It would be night soon.

  “Is there anything else, my lord?” Will asked eagerly.

  “Yes.” Malio said as he walked off towards the lands he once called home. “Have food and water ready for another.”

  “Yes, of course my lord. I will be ready.” Will rode off to find a shallow cave to hide in.

  Malio made his way to the front gate of Martin's castle on foot.

  “Stop. Who goes there?” The four human guards at the gate called out.

  “Let me pass. I am Lord Malio Signante of the Pennino Kingdom.” Malio answered.

  “There is no such person.” One of the guards replied.

  Without falter, Malio raised his left hand. The four guards clenched their throats. Malio tightened his fist and all four of them began to choke and fall to the ground. Malio kept up his gait as he strode up the steep hill that lead to the castle keep. The guards lay dead, slowly rolling down the incline of the hill.