“We must contact the Vatican church and let them know what we have found. They must send Vampire Hunters, before it can infect any further,” he relayed. “If this spreads far, we’ll have a real mess on our hands.”
“We will set off in the morning,” the commander assured him.
“Also,” the priest added, with a look of worry, “remove both of the women’s heads… to be sure, they don’t come back. Go… do it now, before the sun falls.”
The next morning, the men sailed back to Europe and when they arrived, the ship’s priest and commander met in private with Pope Pius VII; the Pope immediately sent word for his four holy Vampire Hunters. A few weeks passed and the day finally came when the four Hunters had completed their journey and they met in the sanctuary of the Pope’s vast church. The inside of the church was one of beauty, with elegant carvings in the walls and stained glass windows that gave one the feeling of the Lord’s presence… believers would visit, just to stand in its brilliant light.
“I need you four men to travel to the America,” Pius instructed of the Hunters. “Evidence of a Vampire has been found and we can’t let the sickness spread,” he said, visibly troubled by the situation at hand. “It must be stopped.”
“Yes, Father, we will leave on the next ship,” replied one of the Vampire-seekers. “It already has a two month jump on us, so I’m sure we will be dealing with more than a few, by the time we get there. Are we to receive any help from their soldiers?” the Hunter asked, with a twinge of hope. “We could be dealing with an entire nest.”
“No,” Pope Pius replied sternly. “No one is to know what you’re doing. Do it on your own and speak not of your intentions,” he made imperative. “Their men are not to help, as we do not want word of this to spread. You are on a secret mission from the Church and you are doing it for English interests in the America,” the Pope explained. “God bless you all and may the Holy Spirit be with you on your journey.”
The four Vampire Hunters left the church and they began preparations for the long voyage across the Atlantic Ocean. They gathered weapons; swords, axes, silver daggers, wooden stakes and bottles of garlic water that have all been already been blessed. The Hunters knew there was a real mission at hand and with the war waging on they knew they would be tracking the Vampires through war-torn countryside where they would most likely be hiding. No one would notice the difference with the soldiers already dying from extreme blood loss.
The Hunter’s logic was correct and Croglin was already building quite a large family. Some of the wounded soldiers that Croglin fed upon were allowed to live to be part of his new covenant. Since the fighting had moved out of the area, Croglin and his new children found an abandoned farmhouse nearby, where they could hide during the daylight hours and they took shelter in the basement of the home that had once been overrun by soldiers. They dug their holes to sleep in, deep into the earth, well hidden from the sun’s lethal rays. They wouldn’t be staying long, just a place until the covenant became more familiar with the new country.
With every week that passed, Croglin’s family rapidly grew. It grew so big, that no new children were to be turned, until Croglin could decide where he wanted to set up a permanent home for his new Vampire family. For now, the war was covering up their trail nicely and everyone was kept well fed. But, what Croglin did not yet know was that Vampire Hunters would soon be there… with an agenda to execute his new family.
Chapter Five
~The New America, 1830~ The war with the English was finally over and it was finally time to map out the new country. Traveling the Ohio River was explorer, John Davidson, along with his hand-picked crew; Nathan, Bradley, Wayne, Anthony, six other men and a Mohawk Indian guide who led the men, as they performed their well-paying duties. The group had been traveling the wilderness for many months now and they have traveled very far, mapping the miles and leaving markers for others to follow.
As John Davidson and his crew crossed the Ohio River into Kentucky, just below Indiana, they decided to set up camp for the night; it seemed like the perfect location, being so close to the fresh water. They unpacked their supplies and everyone took a break for some much needed rest. A fire was built near the water’s edge where they would later wash their clothes and take baths. The men cooked freshly hunted wildlife and they baked fish over the open flames, while passing around a huge jug of whiskey that they’d been saving for the occasion. Many miles were crossed that day and they were truly enjoying the break.
The men finished their meals and drank for a couple more hours, telling jokes and singing songs and by midnight, they were tired and turning to their bed sacks. No one really took notice that the moon was full that night. The Indian guide was nervous and he found a place to sleep, a ways off from the camp, hidden in the underbrush, where he laid motionless, trying not to make a sound. He tried to keep the drunken white men quiet, but they thought the tales of an old Indian legend were funny. None of them listened or paid any attention to his warnings that were given earlier in the evening. The men carried on laughing loudly, creating a drunken ruckus… louder than the mating black bears that lived in the very same forest.
Hours later, after everyone had fallen asleep, John Davidson was jolted from his dreams to the sound of bloodcurdling screams. To his dismay, the rudely awakened men were under attack, by two vicious, overgrown wolves, bigger than they’d never seen before. The men grabbed their arms and fired, but their bullets didn’t seem to do anything to their attackers. Shot after shot, the gunfire did nothing to stop the fierce, mauling animals and any man who didn’t get out of his sleeping sack fast enough was ripped apart.
It seemed that nothing could be done to stop them and everyone was attacked, wounded and dripping in blood. Some of the men were trying to protect themselves, hiding in the underbrush, while the others were being torn to shreds. One of the wolves approached the frightened men hidden in the brush and they prepared for the worst, knowing that they were powerless to save themselves. Suddenly, the Indian guide appeared, shooting his arrows at their attacker. His weaponry powerless against the snarling beast. The wolves both turned, suddenly pouncing on him instead, quickly and brutally ripping the Indian to shreds, before everyone’s very eyes.
Then, seeming to appear from out of nowhere, a man appeared, dressed in a tattered, worn-out robe, standing near the edge of the camp, by the edge of the water… but no one in group noticed him. The man banged his walking staff on large boulder and there was suddenly a bright flash of lightning and a booming roll of thunder. The wolves immediately stopped chewing on the Indian’s limb, taking off and running in the opposite direction of the cowering men… leaving behind seven mangled, unrecognizable dead bodies, five bitten and a completely demolished campsite. The man in the robe disappeared, just as quickly as he appeared and in the distance, the men could hear the wolves letting out a painful, defeated howl that echoed through the trees. In the end, the only survivors: John, Nathan, Bradley, Wayne and Anthony.
When the sun rose the next day, there was a strange peace surrounding the camp and the men looked to discover that their wounds had mysteriously healed over. If it wasn’t for all the body parts scattered around the campsite, the men would’ve thought last night was nothing but a drunken dream. The men looked at each other in silence and awe, at this odd miracle and then surveyed the gruesome scene of mutilation, that was laying in front of them… the remains of an arm sat on the ground, right next John Davidson’s foot.
“We can’t just leave them like this,” John said with a low voice, looking around at the mess the wolves had left. “They at least deserve a proper burial… Jesus, I can hardly remember what happened. How are we even still alive?
“Why didn’t they kill us?” Nathan was the first to ask. “They had us, dead to rights.”
John answered, shaking his head, “We’re lucky to be alive… but how the hell did our bodies heal up already? We were bleeding everywhere
last night look at our clothes!” he exclaimed, pointing to the bloodied shreds of material that were strewn about. “But now, I feel fine,” he said, looking down at his tattered clothes, hanging from his body. “There was a huge gash in my chest… I could see my ribs before!”
He looked up and then back to the broken, bloody parts of his dead men, that remained unhealed and in pieces scattered around the campsite. The other survivors slowly began to move about the camp, gathering up the mutilated remains and digging the seven holes that were needed to consume the dismembered parts, realizing how close they all were to death. It took the men the entire day, to bury all the men and to say all the words that needed to be said. Since it wasn’t quite clear who was who, the graves were left unmarked; the men hoped the parts were all matched to their rightful owner.
The explorers stayed at the camp for one more night, but this time each of them took a turn staying awake to keep watch. In the morning, they packed up and they began heading further west, to continue mapping the river and in search of a new Indian guide with more living bodies to help carry their supplies. They all agreed to put the experience behind them and out of their minds, so they could continue their work.
The weeks went by, as John and his men went about their business, mapping the land and waters, until the day they stumbled upon a settlement, where they were invited in with open arms. The people were happy to see travelers from the east and they were glad to discuss how the great new America was going to be settled; John assured the settlers that their establishment would be added to the map of new territory. The explorers reveled in the hospitality and that evening, they all gathered around a campfire after enjoying a delicious dinner of roasted hog. The settlers shared some of their moonshine with the men and everyone was having a great evening in each other’s company. The time just seemed to slip on by, as they all sang and told stories of past adventures that a few of them have had.
As the group celebrated, well into the midnight and when the full moon had reached its peak, something out of the ordinary began to occur. John and his four men all began to feel a strange sensation pulsating through their veins. John felt it first and he looked over to Nathan, who knew something was wrong the second their eyes met. Before another moment could pass, they fell to the ground, one after another, shaking uncontrollably, with foam and spit spewing from their lips. As they twisted and contorted on the ground, sick gurgling sounds were coming from their mouths, as the frightened settlers took a few steps back. The men screamed in agony, as their bones snapped and popped and their bodies began to reshape before the settler’s very eyes.
The traveler’s Indian guide knew instantly what was happening and he jumped onto the bareback of his horse, fleeing for his life. The settlers watched, frozen in fear and locked in their tracks. They didn’t know of the old Indian legend and they had no idea what was happening in front of them. They just stood there, until the massacre began… and by then, it would’ve been too late to run, anyway.
The men had doubled in size and tripled in body mass and they transformed into what resembled mutated wolves and they began to attack the settlers, chasing them throughout the settlement and into their homes, where they were no longer safe. The screaming of women, children and grown men could be heard echoing for miles throughout the moonlit valley and the slayings continued deep into the night, as wives were devoured in front of their husbands and babies were ripped from their mother’s arms and torn in half. Men begged for mercy on their families and cried for mercy on their souls, but there was none to be given. The blood flowed red that night and the hours passed at a crawling, snail’s pace, until finally… silence and darkness.
John Davidson and his men awoke, naked and covered in blood, in different locations of the settlement to the sight of shredded dismemberment lying all around them… they were the shreds of the people that had taken them in and shared everything they had, including their last supper. None of them could recall any memories of the previous night, but they now understood that something was terribly wrong. Neither, John, nor any of his men, wanted to believe that it was themselves that did this, but they were the only ones left alive in the entire establishment.
“What the hell happened?” John asked, rubbing his temples. “Did we kill all these people?” Nathan’s voice was heard, with the sound of dread. He looked towards the earth, as the words slipped from his tongue. “We are all doomed to hell.”
The other men were speechless, trying to take everything in.
“We are all going to hell,” Wayne said softly, affirming Nathan’s words.
The Indian guide returned to the settlement, trotting on the back of his horse as the men tried to find some clothes to put on. They removed some shirts and pants from a few of the men that weren’t completely tattered and washed the clothes in the river.
“You men have Lycanthrope,” the Indian finally spoke. “You did not know? Was it first time or do you just not care… like most white men?”
“What the hell is that?” John asked, stopping what he was doing to converse. “And, how did you get away?”
“I saw what was happening. I saw full moon and got on my horse. She took off… fast as her hooves would carry,” the Indian said. “I heard the screams and I just kept going.”
“Well, why did you come back?” asked John, blown away by the fact that he had. “Aren’t you afraid of us?”
“I come back to help,” the Indian guide replied, placing a hand on John’s shoulder. “I know someone that might help… help you control the Lycanthrope,” he said, holding a strong, deliberate stare that spoke of wisdom. “Time it will take and the change… hard to master.”
John looked up at the Indian, with concern in his eyes and asked him, “When will we change again? How long do we have?”
“You only change on fullest moon,” the Indian explained further. “And, with help of voodoo woman… you might control your animal inside and change at will. If you do not, they will hunt and kill you… like wild animal you now are.”
“Your friend can do that?” John asked him, not believing what his ears were hearing. Maybe there was some hope after all, he thought. “The wolves? Was it the wolves, that attacked my men and…?”
“Yes,” the Indian interrupted. “Come. No time to talk now… we must hurry… clean up mess,” the Indian said, as his eyes surveyed the massacre that was spread across the settlement.
“Right now, we need to make sure we cover our tracks,” Wayne brilliantly suggested. “And, we need to show some respect for these poor dead folks… who took care of us.”
The rest of the day was spent picking up the pieces of settlers and the bodies were beginning to pile very high. The smell of death simmered in the sweltering, midday sun and the heat baked the corpses, as everyone worked. The pile was then set ablaze, along with the rest of the establishment, to make it appear like bandits had ravaged though the settlement and left no witnesses.
As the fire raged on, the men left, following their Indian guide, heading due south. There were only twenty nine days left, before the next full moon and the Indian said, he would to get them to a voodoo priestess… but only if they hurried fast enough. The witch’s home was to be found deep in the bayous of Louisiana and time was already wearing thin.
The group traveled with haste and the men tried their best to get a grip on what was happening to them. It was hard for the men to comprehend that this was all reality, but what they did understand, was that this Indian was taking a huge risk in order to help them… and for that they were grateful. The men continued south following the Mississippi River until they reached the Louisiana Purchase Territory and the mosquito plagued bayous.
“Are you sure this is the way?” John asked for the fiftieth time, his impatience peaking. They only had a week left before the next moon would be full.
“Yes,” replied the Indian just as many times, unbothered by the nuisance. “We are not very far.”
The men pushed forward throug
h the thick wetness of the swamp and the horses were up to their bellies in the dark, murky water.
“If this water gets any deeper we’re not going to make it,” John said, getting a bit concerned. “Are you sure this is the right way?”
“We are almost there,” the Indian answered, once more. “This water is to protect… make it harder to find voodoo woman. We are under watch by her guards,” he said, looking to the muddy swamp waters ahead of them, becoming quiet again.
It became dark, as they pressed further into the swamps and the Indian lit a torch to light the way. Moving along, the flames were beginning to reflect, what seemed to be, hundreds of sets of eyes, floating at the water’s surface, following the men, as they made their way to a place that very few have ever seen.
Anthony and Nathan, all of a sudden, began grabbing for their guns in a panic.
“Put them away!” the Indian shouted, raising his hand in the air. “She knows we are here… she will clear path for us,” he said, lowering his hand. “Do not fire the on the creatures of this swamp.”
“You’re telling me, she can control these alligators?” John disbelievingly asked.
“When we get there, you will be quiet,” replied the Indian, ignoring his question. “Only I talk.”
Without any further discussion, the men moved forward through the reptile-infested swamps and Wayne counted the alligators along the way, still a bit worried. But to the traveler’s delight they weren’t attacked and the gators just stared back from the water with their expressionless, glowing beads.
In the distance, they could see a clearing in the thickness of the swamp. A large house sat up ahead and smoke poured from its chimney. The home was built on the only piece of land for miles and the men were thankful to come out of the water and onto some dry land. They found a good place to tie up their horses and then the group followed the Indian, over to the front porch of the home. As they got closer to the steps, the front door swung open and a mystical-appearing black woman, with a long snake wrapped around her neck, stepped into view. At her side, was a fierce-looking wolf that she had on a collar and chain; her pet growled at the men, but the beast became quiet, when the Indian stepped forward.
The Lycan Chronicles Page 4