by H. T. Night
Nora’s gown and undergarments consisted of elegant lace, completely black. Very fitting for the matron among these vampires. A quick glance around me confirmed that these three were among the most striking females gathered there that night.
“Men and boys never change when it comes to trying to impress the object of their affections,” Chanson observed, shaking her head with a wry grin on her face. “Surely you were more than ready to be rescued, cousin!”
“Yes…I must admit you’re right about that,” I agreed, disappointed by the simmering hostility among male immortals.
I took a moment to look back at the angry vampire trio and their alchemist counterpart. Armando and Garvan eyed me sullenly while Franz stood stoically behind them. Racco still seemed indifferent to their collective disdain, raising his half-empty glass of wine in salute while he shot me yet another seductive look.
“You should be grateful we rescued you when we did!” teased Raquel, revealing a beautiful smile I had only seen glimpses of—the sure sign her initial reservations had given way to at least some admiration for me. “Eat before your food gets too cold!”
She motioned for me to sit down again at the table, with the three females standing around me. Gustav smiled and motioned for me to eat my dinner. My hunger had steadily worsened, urging me to forgo the use of my utensils in a ladylike fashion. Instead, I dug into the contents of my plate like a starving peasant. I even managed to ignore the fact that each of my current vampire companions carried crystal goblets filled with a thick crimson liquid. Obviously blood, it normally wouldn’t matter if it was human or not to make me squeamish. But I cleaned my plate just the same.
“How do you like your room?” asked Chanson, pouring me another glass of wine after I drained my first serving.
“It’s a little big,” I said, thinking how cold my bedchamber was despite the presence of a large canopy bed piled high with thick blankets, and the really advanced entertainment system upon the wall across from the bed. Not to mention the enormous fireplace in the middle of the room. “But I like it.”
Thinking about how cold the room felt, I glanced at Gustav, who looked amused…. He seemed less sinister and frightening to me on a full stomach. Maybe it was the wine.
“All of us will be pleased to show you around,” said Nora, her English accent sounding more refined than when we were on the ship. “It may take some getting used to, but you will lack for nothing in terms of comfort.”
I smiled and nodded politely, thinking to myself how I didn’t want to get used to this place. Not at all! In my mind it remained a short vacation, and I hoped to get back home soon...maybe in the next few days.
“You must be wondering why we have gone to such trouble to bring you here,” said Gustav, pausing to allow the ‘petticoat trio’ to refresh their goblets with fresh plasma from the punch bowl and return to their seats. Raquel sat next to me, on my right, and Chanson and Nora took the seats across from me. Gustav’s throne loomed above us all to my left. “Truly, it has been many centuries since something this severe has befallen us…. And if not for recent events that have resulted in only one of your kind left in the world—one ‘vaisseau sanguin saint’—we would have waited until you are older to become fully acquainted.”
“So, you’re saying there’s no one else like me? Garvan and Armando said something about a few other girls somewhere in France.” I thought about what the two had said last week when they visited me in my dorm room. I also recalled what Grandma Terese told me, that my two cousins had been killed.
“You are indeed the last one to survive…the very last one,” said Gustav, a sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “’May ‘Les Amants de Vampire’ live on!”
The rest of the room erupted into applause. Nothing like center stage to jack up my confidence, made worse since I had done absolutely nothing to deserve the fervent accolade. The vampires continued to celebrate my presence, some floating toward me as they cheered and clapped. Most clinked their goblets together, spilling crimson droplets to the floor, and all of them smiled. The only exception was Racco, who looked out of place as he studied me in silence from across the table.
“That’s what you all call me? I’m one of the ‘vampire lovers’?”
I know…what kind of name is that, anyway? And my French isn’t quite good enough to know what the phrase stood for…. I just remembered the monster Ralu defined it for me in my dream the other night. I never anticipated hearing the same phrase so soon.
“Yes,” he said, his tone much softer. “You are the last living descendant of this sacred bloodline. I hope you will allow me to be frank and speak clearly to the point on matters which concern you most…matters which you need to understand in order to continue to survive.”
I nodded for him to go on.
“The bearers of the teardrop birthmark have always been treated to elite status among your Basque ancestors, and before that, it was considered a holy sign which Turkish and Hungarian rulers used to determine who would maintain the royal lineage,” he explained, waiting for me to acknowledge my understanding. His eyes seemed to dance with intense energy as he studied my face, finding something there to elicit a brighter smile. Then he continued. “The bloodline you carry is even far more ancient than that, Txema. Even in my youth in Mesopotamia—nearly five thousand years ago—there were those among us who bore the same mark you have on your neck.”
“Does that mean the birthmark originated in the ancient world?”
Pretty obvious, I know. But heady information like this needed to be explicitly defined, and not taken merely at face value. After all, imagine how this sort of thing would come across if it had been part of the ‘tell us about yourself’ introduction I had to participate in during UT’s freshman orientation back in August.
“Yes, it did,” he confirmed, chuckling as if privy to my latest musing. “The legends I grew up with implied that both vampires and this mysterious mark originated within a century of each other. It is unclear as to which one came first, but the advent for both took place thousands of years before my birth, and they have always been dependent on each other. Once prevalent among both males and females at the time of Atlantis, the mark eventually changed to where it became a dominant female trait in ancient Egypt and India. During the past four thousand years I have watched the birthmark diminish to near extinction several times, as the carriers spread northward into Europe. But those were all natural occurrences that the vampire nations weathered. This most recent crisis, however, has been brought about by those who want the separate distinction between privileged vampires and those less fortunate to end.”
Not necessarily a bad thing, I thought to myself. Peace and harmony seem like desirable outcomes to most citizens of the world—regardless if that’s for normal humans or the undead.
“What makes it such a big deal for you to need us, the ones who bear the birthmark? I asked. “I know you need to feed on people and all, but what makes it so imperative to keep someone like me around?”
Gustav released a long, low sigh before answering me.
“Without the slight mixture of your blood in with our normal dietary intake of human plasma, we eventually lose the part of us that is ‘human’,” he said, glancing at my female companions sitting next to me and across the table. “We become savage, without any control over the primal urges at war with our limited humanity.”
He arose from the table, and I wondered if I had somehow offended him by my latest question. Or, maybe it was the previous question, voiced with my normal cynicism slipping through.
“It is more than just the fact we would no longer keep our youth and our enhanced allure,” he resumed, though he remained standing and seemingly ready to leave. “We would eventually have no self control in regard to how we treat the citizens of your world. I am afraid it would turn into a feeding frenzy, where vampires dined on human flesh and blood. Truly, if our enemies are successful in finding you before we can secure your permanent safet
y and prosperity, then very soon the human race shall be in grave danger. The tens of thousands of untamed vampires lurking in the shadows will feast without restraint until the last of your race is gone…permanently.”
***
Talk about raining on a parade. I didn’t know how to respond, and could only nod respectfully. If I had managed to open my mouth, I’m not sure anything would’ve come out.
Gustav was about to go on with more information, but one of the other vampires rushed up from the rear of the room and interrupted him. I didn’t recognize this particular creature, a young male with long dark hair and features similar to Garvan’s. Unlike most of those in attendance, he was dressed like most of the guys I’d see everyday back on campus, wearing blue jeans and a green polo sweater.
“If you will excuse me, I must attend to something important,” Gustav advised, standing briefly—long enough to offer me a bow. Then he was gone.
I wish I could say that I was getting used to this ‘here one moment, vanished the next’ routine among the undead immortals. Maybe someday…. Unfortunately, it greatly annoyed me—irritates me still, even as I write this account.
With so much to think about, and the prospect of going home anytime soon seeming more and more remote—based on my brief conversation with Gustav—I was ready to return to my room. But my female companions would not let me go so easily.
“Come with us, Txema—come see the hidden treasures kept here in the castle!” urged Chanson.
Hard to resist her smile…even harder the collective charm of all three of these ‘ladies of the night’. And if charm wasn’t enough, their ironclad grips on my wrists ensured my complete cooperation. They whisked me out of the dining hall and back out into the grand corridor before I even said ‘yes’ to their invitation. From there, we visited nearly a dozen chambers containing rare sculptures, paintings, and other works of art created by many of the world’s most famous classical artists—some French like Morel and Goujon, along with Italian masters Buonarotti, Titian, and Raphael.
Not all works were haunting and dark, as might be expected. It surprised me to see full oil portraits of my three hostesses as well as Garvan, Franz, and Armando created by master painters that includes those mentioned above. The grandest, of course, was a full wall portrait of Gustav that was rendered by Raphael, who also created a smaller wall painting featuring Racco and an unknown female whom I assumed to be a former wife from centuries past, together sitting on a horse.
Other areas they took me to included an immense library featuring some very old books and loose parchment manuscripts, along with a full array of modern titles from the past few years. I made a mental note to come back there in the next day or so after seeing several MACs with the latest software and hardware upgrades. It could be my window to contacting my family and friends back home, as well as finding out the latest news about what went on in America and the world.
Seeing the computers reminded me of how deprived and ignorant I had become in regard to current events outside what had been told to me by my vampire entourage and our alchemist host. In other words, except for the conversation with my grandmother and what Chanson shared with me, I didn’t know shit about anything going on outside of the castle and the ship that brought me here.
Around eleven, Chanson dropped me off at my room. The closest thing to a confidante I would find in my new world, I could tell she was growing to like me more and more each day as well. Maybe it’s because of our shared ancestry, although she often reminds me of me. I wondered if it’s the same for her.
Anyway, I was pleased to find a nice blaze burning in the fireplace upon entering my bedchamber. A thick terrycloth bathrobe had been laid out on my bed, along with a rose and a white envelope next to it. The rose was real…fresh. The envelope contained a short parchment note, from Racco.
“Txema, hopefully this will help cheer you up. If interested in picking up where we left off yesterday, meet me in the main foyer at noon. You will find a snowsuit and boots in the armoire. Be sure to wear them, as an excellent adventure awaits you! Yours faithfully, Racco.”
All the warnings from my vampire protectors evaporated as I read the note a second time…and then a third. By the time I immersed myself in a hot bath in the Jacuzzi tub, I had already made my decision.
I accepted Racco’s request for a date.
Chapter 17
I’m not sure when exactly I fell asleep that night. But I can say it was sometime after midnight…maybe one-ish. It was one of those blissful experiences of slipping out of a tired mind and into the world of wonderful dreams. I loved the way it started, where I ran through a field of golden wheat up to my waist, and Racco waiting for me, arms open wide and his muscular chest exposed within his unbuttoned long-sleeved shirt, white—like what the men in France wore two centuries ago.
But then something happened in the dream. Darkness descended rapidly from an ominous cloud above, and then Racco turned away in terror and ran. He ran for his life, screaming, while the darkness increased and filled my vision. Brisk, frigid air embraced me, and I felt the icy surface of a stone floor beneath the tips of my toes and the unforgiving contours of a primitive wooden chair under my butt.
“Well, how nice-e-e-e!” rumbled a deep, and unfortunately for me, familiar voice. “Txema, you decided to drop by for another visit-t-t-t!!”
“What?! No way in hell would I ever want to visit with you, you sick bastard!” I hissed, while part of me worried that my mouth would surely bring a quick and premature end to my life—regardless of the fact I knew this was a dream. A very real and terrifying experience, but a dream nonetheless. A frigging horrid nightmare, more like it. “Why don’t you get out of my head and go screw yourself, and then leave me the hell alone??”
The rumble deepened, becoming a guttural laugh. At the same time, the darkness lifted somewhat and I found myself sitting in the same damned room I visited in my last encounter with Ralu, the obvious leader of the ‘less fortunate’ vampires that Gustav mentioned at dinner.
“As much as I appreciate your discomfort with my presence, you are in no position to make such a demand!” he replied, his tone icy.
By then, I could make out the outline of his hulking figure sitting behind the primitive desk I had seen in my last dream with him. Unlike last time, the fire burning in the fireplace was a mere collection of smoldering coals that emitted short flames barely illuminating the room—this same chapel from my last ‘Ralu experience’, with ornate tapestries along the walls. But more than last time, streams of moonlight poured through the stained glass windows.
“There’s nothing you can do to make me become some defiled blood princess for you!” I shouted, in no mood to go through the same shit as last time. If this son of a bitch was going to slice my throat open again, I wanted him to do it right away so I could wake up and be done with this nightmare.
“It is the only way you will survive, Txema!” he retorted, allowing himself to chuckle sardonically before going on. “Otherwise, you will die when Gustav’s kingdom is overthrown. It is inevitable that my army, which is growing in numbers every night, will become too great a force for your measly protectors to resist. When they are destroyed, I will add your pretty face to my collection!”
I could feel the depth of his hatred as he said this, which made me wonder why in the hell he would even offer me a privileged place in his kingdom anyway. His chuckle grew steadily into a fit of laughter as he threw his head back, leaving no doubt that the thoughts in my head were all open to his discernment. His facial features looked more hideous now than I previously recalled, stretched grotesquely as his malicious joy reverberated off the stone walls and filled the air around me.
“I will leave you with two things to consider during the last days of your pitiful existence!” he sneered, once the laughter faded. “Gustav’s centuries of uncontested prosperity and tyranny will finally end before dawn, two days hence. That is the first thing to remember, Txema, and you can tell them
all that the alchemist’s preferred residence will be nothing more than a charred pile of wood and rubble. My army of thirty thousand angry souls is on its way, getting closer to you each night.”
He waited for me to acknowledge his warning before going on, and I offered a weak head nod. The picture in my mind of an enormous mass of Nosferatu vampires storming the castle in the darkest hours of the night scared the holy shit out of me—which brightened the mirthful grin on his face.
“And here is something I’m sure will give you pause to think…to reconsider my offer if I am so inclined to extend it again in the near future,” he said, and in the next instant his shadow shifted, and I gasped when I found him standing less than a foot away. There was no escape from the decaying flesh scent wafting toward me. “Meet your cousins, Sorne and Nere!”
Before my mind fully understood what he meant, he pulled out two severed heads from his cloak and laid them at my feet. He made sure to position their horrified expressions to where I could see them clearly, bathed in the light from a slender moonbeam. They both looked so similar to me, with hazel eyes frozen in terror, and their mouths opened in the screams that must’ve taken place right before their heads were separated from their bodies. Not knowing which one was Sorne or Nere, one of them had their neck severed low enough to see the familiar birthmark.
I screamed.
“It must be something in the family that makes you all so uncooperative,” he advised, seemingly unaffected by the screeching timbre pouring out of my open throat. “Well at least they will not be alone much longer…unless you come to your senses and join us, Txema—join us before it is too late!”
He laughed again, and this time he didn’t restrain himself. He gave in to an even bigger uproarious laughter fit, one that grew louder by the moment. All the while I screamed, and neither it nor his gleeful cacophony stopped—at least not until the world around me went blank.