A Hero's Death: Aris Crow Vampire Legend

by Rachel McClellan

  I didn't realize where I was going until I ended up at my childhood park. The afternoon sun was warmer than usual. Normally I would shrink from its rays, but today I welcomed it. The pain searing my skin helped me to focus. Pacing the barren ground, I clenched my jaw together and thought hard. There had to be a way to stop all of this.

  The corner of the diary pressed against my back. I stopped and pulled it in front of me, brushing my fingertips over the faded red cover. Maybe Kristen was right, and I needed a new perspective. The thought of discovering something that could change my mind about turning into a vampire filled me with dread, but I was out of options.

  I lowered onto a bench partially protected from the sun by the shade of a tall tree. I turned the book over in my hands and slowly opened the cover. My mom's name was written on the first page in beautiful cursive: Daisy Laurence. I sucked in a breath.

  They were wrong to keep this from me. How I would've cherished her words as a child! Just to get the chance to know her would've saved me a lot of heartache. I felt like I knew my father. I had read and studied enough about him from newspaper clippings and interviews of people's encounters with him. But my mother? I knew nothing other than that she was a scientist who fell in love with a man who eventually turned into a superhero.

  I turned the page and began to read.

  25

  The first entry was two weeks after she'd met my father. She spoke very highly of him and what a wonderful man he was. There was some mention of a previous bad relationship she had been in, so she was nervous to start a new one.

  I continued to turn the pages, reading about how their relationship deepened over several months. My father would leave with Victor, his partner and best friend, every few weeks on various expeditions. She talked about those a little bit, specifically how he was becoming obsessed with supernatural creatures. He claimed he had enough evidence that they existed, especially of vampires. My mother was skeptical at first, but eventually she believed him, too. She'd seen too much proof.

  This part of the story I already knew. My father had found Elizabeth Bathory's grave and obtained the samples my mother would need to try and replicate the DNA. My mother spoke about their excitement. Even Roman had jumped on board, anxious to see what they could create. The work they were doing was revolutionary. Shortly after, they were married.

  I skimmed through the next few pages of their seemingly perfect life, but slowed when she mentioned her experiments again.

  After almost two years, she and Roman had finally created a concoction called V1996, which they believed would enhance a human's natural abilities. They did some testing with small rodents, proving its success. They prepared for more testing, but when she arrived at the lab one night, my father was already there. He had injected himself with the serum.

  According to my mother's diary, that was the worst fight they'd ever gotten in. She felt it was a breach of trust and highly unethical, but Jonas said he only wanted to help people.

  The next several entries were about my father's transformation. His muscles grew, increasing his strength tenfold. Even his bones and flesh grew stronger. His speed was unparalleled to humans, and his body healed remarkably fast. She ran many tests on him and he surpassed them all.

  My mother worried about long-term effects, but my father was anxious to get out on the streets with his new abilities. The way she described his desires to help the city and how he feared nothing, confirmed everything I had read about him.

  Months passed before she wrote anything new, but when she did, her penmanship wasn't as neat. Lines were sharp and incomplete. It appeared as if she was writing in a hurry.

  Her first words: I fear for my life.

  I tightened my fingers on the book and continued to read.

  Jonas was changing, becoming obsessed with power and the way the media and everyone called him a hero. He had become paranoid and would often forbid my mother from leaving the house.

  She became pregnant during this time and hoped it would bring them closer together, but it only made him worse. He was terrified someone was coming to take everything away from him, and he spoke of dark creatures in the city.

  My mother wondered if his drastic change in personality had something to do with the V drug. She spent many sleepless nights continuing to test the drug. That's when she discovered something frightening. When the rats she’d injected with V1996 died, they would come back to life even stronger and bigger—but with an insatiable thirst for blood. She was too scared to tell her husband about her findings, afraid he would seek that added power. Only Roman knew the truth.

  She gave birth. Jonas didn't make it in time, but Victor and Kristen were there. The next several entries were all about me. I read slowly, cherishing every word. She expressed her love for me, but also worried for my safety. She had tested my blood, hoping I would be normal, but V1996 had been passed down. She had been devastated at first, but then she spoke, it seemed, only to me, saying she believed I would be great one day. That I would be a new kind of hero no one had ever seen before.

  I leaned forward on the bench, closing my eyes. If she could see me now, would she be proud or disappointed? Was I the man she hoped I would become?

  I inhaled a breath and continued reading, searching for anything that might help me.

  Eventually my father overthrew Moretti, sending every last one of them to jail. My mother hoped their lives could return to normal, but her hopes were in vain. Jonas made relationships with the same people Moretti had. A group of people outside of the city. She could tell they both frightened and impressed him. Jonas told her nothing about these people despite her many inquiries.

  He began to disappear at night, sometimes leaving for days at a time. She would hear stories, rumors that he was creating a new drug. She begged him to stop, cried that he wasn't the same man she married, but he wouldn't listen.

  Then suddenly they were wealthy. Obscene amounts of money showed up in their account every few weeks. She didn't know where it came from and Jonas never explained.

  I closed the book and lowered my forehead to its cover. How could my father have done all of these things? It was almost impossible to believe. I was afraid to keep reading, but after a few minutes, I continued on, desperate to learn the truth.

  At first my father used their new money to fund school programs and to help with the homeless problem in the city. No one questioned him. The city thrived. Crime was down. Everyone loved the Crow. There was even talk of nominating him for mayor.

  My mother wrote in her diary a lot during this time. She said Jonas would sometimes come home covered in blood. He admitted to killing people, but only the really bad ones who didn't deserve jail. There was nothing she could do to get him to stop.

  She mentioned Victor a few times as a source of comfort. He, too, was trying to stop Jonas from what he was doing and from dealing with this group outside the city. She had heard Victor call them Principes Noctis, which she translated to Rulers of the Night. Victor tried to uncover more, but Jonas eventually shut him out, too.

  It surprised me to hear my mother speak of Victor fondly. I had never considered that he wasn't always a power-hungry monster, but at one point, he was there for her when my father wasn't. This didn't abate my anger toward him. However, it did make me want to ask him questions. How could he have gone from trying to stop Jonas to becoming just like him, or worse?

  I was almost at the end of the diary—at the end of her life. This was all that was left of her. Scribbled words speaking of love and fear.

  My mother decided to leave Jonas, taking me with her just after I turned two, but Jonas' men wouldn't let her out of their sight. The second she got the chance, she argued with Jonas about this, and he had beaten her.

  I slammed the journal closed and jumped to my feet. This couldn't be true. I stood and paced the park, stopping only to punch the thick trunk of a tree several times. How had I looked up to this man?

  I sucked in several deep breaths as
the sun backed away to let darkness rule the night. It wouldn't be long until I had to go to Victor's. Before then, I needed to know the whole truth, no matter how painful.

  I sat down and opened the journal again. There were only a few entries left. Jonas had hurt her pretty good, breaking her arm and jaw, but worse was her broken heart, for she knew the man she had fallen in love with was gone forever.

  She turned to Victor for help in escaping. He vowed to smuggle us out of the city and promised that he would find a way to stop Jonas.

  My mother's final words were about me and how much she loved me. There was nothing in the world she wouldn't do for me. Her only desire was for me to live a life of my choosing and full of love.

  I flipped through the remaining pages hoping to find something else, but there was nothing but empty pages.

  I closed the diary for good, my heart pounding. So many thoughts battered my mind that my head began to ache. How many times had I read those newspaper clippings about my father? I had even memorized some of them! And for what? So I could make a hero out of an asshole?

  I thought of Kristen and Roman. They knew the truth, but had chosen to keep it from me for fear I would want nothing to do with the life my father had led.

  They would be right. I think I would've left Coast City. Traveled the world as soon as I was able. I had plenty of money. I sure as hell wouldn't have lived underground.

  Emma appeared in my mind. Would I have left her?

  I groaned, not knowing how my life would've turned out had I known the truth.

  I didn't know the end of the story though. Maybe my father had miraculously changed and wanted to run away with my mother, and maybe Victor had gotten jealous and that's why he killed them. My mother had said Victor helped her a lot. Maybe he had feelings for her back then. How deep did they go?

  Darkness had arrived. Moonlight filtered through heavy clouds and invigorated my flesh, healing the parts where the sun had burned. Raw anger coursed through my blood, more powerful than anything I had ever felt. It burned me from the inside out. My whole life was a lie and people I cared about were the ones who had made it so.

  Thunder cracked overhead and the heavens opened, sending a torrent of rain upon me. I stood there in the dark, my hands balled tight as I let water wash over me. I wanted to fight something, anything. This anger needed to be quenched.

  I took off running down the street, my footsteps splashing in growing puddles. Before I got too far, I discarded the diary at an entrance to Ironwood where I would retrieve it later.

  There was somewhere I needed to be first. I had a location in mind, Blue Fire. I had been saving it for one of my last places to hit because I knew it was more guarded and crowded than most of Victor's other places but tonight I didn't care.

  To avoid being seen, I climbed up a fire escape to the top of the nearest building. I sprinted again, leaping across the rooftops, letting my rage out with every step as I headed toward Pigtown.

  My father was no hero. He was a monster.

  I stopped on the roof of the building that housed Blue Fire. I glanced over the ledge to a long line of people who had sucked themselves against the side to avoid the downpour. Deep bass reverberating from the first two floors rattled the structure. Within these walls, drugs were easily exchanged and prostitution ran rampant. But it was the back rooms of the nightclub I wanted to shut down the most. This is where the worst crimes occurred. If you wanted something, no matter how deplorable, this is where you went.

  I pulled on my ski mask and jumped from the roof all the way to the ground, four stories below into an alleyway. I approached the back door and leaned my head toward it, listening closely. Voices echoed from inside, but blaring music swallowed their words.

  I should probably get Oz's help for this job. There would be cameras in there. I glanced behind me. There were probably cameras out here, too. But I can't wait. My anger won't permit it. My covered face will have to be enough.

  Bending down, I retrieved a knife from each of my boots. The weight of them in my palms felt good. I could easily kill. The thought of blood on my hands made my teeth ache.

  I hesitated. Was I ready to kill? There was nothing to stop me now. The perfect image of my father, the great ideal I had been trying to live up to, had been destroyed.

  I kicked the door down. One way to find out.

  26

  A shotgun appeared in my face the moment I stepped into the doorway. I grabbed the barrel and jerked it from his hands, then jabbed my elbow into the man's face. At the same time, I kicked at another man off to my left who pointed a nine millimeter in my direction.

  It became chaos after that.

  There were at least seven other men in the small back room. I dropped to the ground and fired the shotgun into the nearest leg. Blood misted the air, and I licked my lips.

  I fired again. The bullet tore through the shoulder of someone across the room. I rolled over and into the legs of a table. I took hold of them and swung it hard into two men who rushed me. They collapsed to the concrete floor.

  As I leapt to my feet, I grabbed a nearby chair and swung it wide, taking out another man. Someone from behind me fired a gun. I sprinted out of the way, circling the room while the guy continued to fire. As I went, I knocked out two lights, plunging us into darkness. The few men who were still conscious yelled for someone to grab a light. One of the men, the biggest of them all, swung blindly into the darkness.

  I slowly approached him, my night vision working perfectly. I bent down and picked up the nine millimeter on the floor and pointed it directly at his head. I could shoot him right now. I placed my finger on the trigger. Everyone else in the city was fine with killing.

  So shoot him!

  I roared. Instead of pulling the trigger, I smashed the gun into the side of his head. It hit where I intended it to and knocked him out cold. I leapt at the two remaining men and took them out as well.

  I stared at all their bodies, alive but injured, in the dark while a bass drum thumped in the distance. No one had come running. No one could hear us—maybe they did and nobody cared.

  At the end of the room was a long counter. On its top were bags of rhino dust, a small stack of money and something else: a large box overflowing with clear plastic bags that held a hint of red. I moved closer and reached inside to grab one of the bags. A familiar smell accosted my senses. Human blood. I peered inside the box. The whole thing was full of blood bags. What would Victor want with all of these?

  I turned around, dread filling my gut. The Judge. She had mentioned Victor bringing something to the city they couldn't fight. What did she know that I didn't? And how would she know and not Roman?

  One of the men on the floor moaned. I bent down and picked him up by the collar. He squirmed beneath my grip, but I held him firm. It must've been frightening indeed, being held up in the dark, unable to see the face of the monster in front of you.

  "What is the blood for?" I growled.

  "I- I don't know," he stuttered. "My leg… I'm shot. It hurts."

  "Who takes the blood?" I said, my voice louder.

  "Don't tell the bastard anything," a man ordered not far away. He was struggling to come to his feet. I leaned over and punched him in the nose. The sound of his body hitting the floor in the dark had my guy talking again.

  "The Physician. He takes it. Help me."

  I released him and leaned back thinking hard. He's taking the blood somewhere, but where? And who would want it? The logical conclusion would be a vampire, but I knew I wasn't one and neither was Victor. As far as I knew vampires didn't exist. They were wiped out centuries ago, unless… they weren't.

  I stood up straight, the idea making me nauseous. I had to talk to Roman. But first I had to clean up this mess.

  Someone knocked on the door. "Tommy?"

  I stepped over a body and slowly opened the door.

  "Why are the lights off?" He reached his hand in as if to turn them on, but I grabbed his wrist and jerked
him inside. He joined the others on the floor.

  I could've killed them all, but chose not to. It still felt wrong. But was it? I wasn't sure, but it was an important enough decision that I needed to take my time and figure out what I believed.

  After tying a tourniquet around the leg of the one I had shot, I grabbed each of the men and placed them in the alley with their hands tied behind their backs. A few of them had woken up from the movement. They cursed at me and swore their vengeance.

  During this time, three more people came to the back room. They joined their friends in the alley, innocent or not. The cops could figure it out. Or not. They were just like me, trying to find their way in a city with unspoken rules created by a mad man.

  Before I left, I destroyed the drugs and smashed the blood bags against the wall. The police would have quite a crime scene on their hands. I also searched other back rooms for anyone I might be able to help. I discovered four bound teenagers, three of them girls. I divided the money up and gave it to each of them, telling them to buy a bus ticket and get out of town.

  They scurried out of the building, along with everyone else, when I pulled the fire alarm. The cops would be here soon.

  I glanced at the time on my cell phone as I jogged away, tearing off my mask. I still had thirty minutes until I had to meet Victor. A fire truck and three police cruisers zoomed by me.

  The dark sky still poured rain, which was good. It washed the blood from my hair and off my hands and face. I smoothed my hair back and slowed to a walk. Adrenaline laced with rage still throbbed inside me.

  I'm not even sure how I got there, but I found myself staring through the large window at the café. Emma hustled within, helping several customers. I was about to turn away, when her eyes locked with mine. She brought her hand to her mouth. I must look really bad.

  She rushed outside to join me in the rain. Warm light from the street lamp above us shined upon her, highlighting a touch of gold in her brown hair. Just the sight of her stole my breath.