Undying Vengeance

by Burnham, K. L.

  “Look closer, Katrina. Study the pictures. What do they say?” A familiar voice said.

  “I can’t!” She screamed. “It hurts too much.”

  “It’s supposed to hurt, Katrina. These pictures are my life.” Victor whispered.

  She winced and turned in a circle searching for Victor. The hallway was empty.

  “How can such sick disgusting pictures be your life? You have terrible taste.” She grimaced. “Picasso or VanGogh, yes, I can see those expensive pieces being your life, but these?” Disgusted she walked to the end of the hall and saw steep steps leading to upstairs. She gripped the railing and walked to the top.

  “I don’t have time for your questions right now, but in time you will understand what I mean. They are my life, the blueprint that makes me what I am. Think about it.” Victor said.

  Katrina’s stomach flip-flopped. She felt sick. She didn’t want to and wasn’t going to think about it. It was sick. To delight in the torture of humans, especially children and hang that art on your walls was despicable. “I hate you, Victor.” She seethed and stepped into the upstairs hallway.

  The upstairs consisted of four bedrooms, each with its own bathroom. The rooms were decorated almost alike. A large bed, a couple dressers and bedside stands. ‘How boring,’ Katrina thought. The only thing that made them different was the variation in colors of paint and carpet. She walked into the first and inhaled a flowery smell. It surprised her since it didn’t look as though it had been cleaned in years. She swiped a finger across the dresser and picked up an inch of dust.

  Having seen enough of the upstairs Katrina inhaled and stared down the long hallway willing her self to keep her eyes straight ahead. ‘One step at a time,’ she ordered. That lasted all of a minute. Running at light speed and practically falling down the stairs she made it to the bottom.

  Katrina walked to the kitchen and opened the drawer. Placing her hands on the knives she caressed them and stopped when she found the biggest sharpest butcher knife. She picked it up and held it close. She refused to die without a fight in case things got ugly when Victor arrived home. Slanting her eyes, determination on her face, she walked to the basement door, unlocked it and walked down the stairs two at a time.

  Five minutes later she stood in front of the steel door protecting Victor’s lair. Wiping her brow, she fumbled with the handle and tried to pry it open. Uttering profanities she stepped away from the door and paced the basement floor, twirling her long hair around her fingers. She scanned the entire basement looking for something that she could use to open the door. She needed to think like Victor for a change. Getting the door open may prove to be an impossible task but she had to try. What would Victor do? How would Victor secure such a secretive lair?

  Victor was proud of his age and the fact that vampire’s had such extraordinary powers, like magic. She had to figure out what magical spell was protecting his lair.

  Katrina walked to the lair’s door and wondered if this was a test to see if she’d be obedient to Victor.

  “Think,” she commanded. “There’s a way in. I just have to figure it out.”

  She had to figure it out. ‘Think like Victor,’ she thought again. Victor’s age, possibly? The handle on the door resembled a safe so it made sense that it would be opened with a combination.

  She grasped the circular door handle like a sixteen year old in driver’s education class with her hands at ten and two and used his age as the combination. Victor told her he was four hundred ninety one years old. It was the only thing she knew about him numerically.

  She turned the handle four times to the right, nine times to the left and one time to the right. She paused, palms sweating and slowly pushed the steel door open. An ice cold draft blew on her face. She pushed it all the way open and stood for a minute allowing the light from outside the lair to let her see into the darkness.

  It was dark and cold. She sniffed. A musty smell hung in the air. Katrina squinted and saw the black coffin against the far wall, the lid open. Chills ran up and down her spine. Craning her neck, she glanced to the right and saw an old rickety rocking chair and a small coffee table with a few candles sitting on top.

  Katrina’s heart pounded wildly. She swallowed hard and stepped into Victor’s lair.

  She stood by the coffee table and stared at the coffin. How disgusting. Why did vampires insist on sleeping in a coffin when a bed would fit just fine in the lair? She shook her head, hair falling in her face and marched toward the coffin. It was so cold. Katrina cursed herself for not being smart and bringing a blanket with her.

  Halfway to Victor’s coffin, Katrina heard a creaking noise and turned her head. The door was slowly closing or was it just an illusion in the semi-darkness? A sinking feeling in her gut told her this wasn’t good. She ran toward the door but the closer she got, the faster the steel door seemed to close.

  Katrina sped up and was inches from the door when it closed in her face. From the other side of the door she heard a clicking sound. Did someone lock her in?

  She screamed. There was no way out. Helpless, she ran in circles hitting the door and banging the walls like an animal in a hunter’s trap. It was useless. She leaned her back against the door, rubbed the sides of her head and screamed at the top of her lungs.

  Exhausted, she slid against the door, landing hard on her butt and placed her head in her hands and cried. She was in prison and had just executed her own death penalty. Victor would kill her when he returned. All she could do now was wait and hope he would forgive her.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Hey freak show contestants. Let me in now or I’ll call the police!” Gabe screamed. He banged the door with his fists. “You have two minutes to open this door.” He ordered.

  Victor snarled. “Let that piece of shit in. Who does he think he is trying to make the rules of our game?” Pointing at Donovan, Victor motioned for him to open the door. “We are never told what to do, how to do it or when to do it. I’ve heard enough of this man’s voice to last me an eternity.”

  Donovan smiled. He felt the same way and opened the door.

  “Please do come in,” Donovan said smiling at Gabe.

  “Damn you, you freak!” Gabe screamed throwing a punch at Donovan.

  Victor was on top of Gabe in an instant and hurled him to the ground. “Listen hear you sorry piece of shit. Your sins have found you out.” He said his face inches from Gabe’s.

  Gabe, lay on the floor wriggling his arms and legs like a fish out of water, trying to break free. “What in God’s name are you talking about? My sins,” he chuckled.

  “Allow me to show you,” Victor said. “Stand up.”

  Gabe twisted his nose. “No. I will not be told what to do by the likes of you.” He said jutting out his jaw and sulked like a defiant child.

  Donovan winced. “Not a good choice, Gabe.” An evil smile crossed his lips. “Shall we?” He asked Victor.

  Victor grabbed Gabe by the throat and placed him on his feet. “I’d like to introduce you to the new and improved Armani.” Victor dragged Gabe to the couch and pointed at Armani. “You did this to him.”

  Gabe gasped. “You killed him. How could you?”

  Victor and Donovan laughed. Gabe stared at both of them wondering why they found what he said so amusing.

  “I’m reporting you two to the police when I leave here.” Gabe said matter of fact.

  Victor grabbed Gabe’s face with one hand and pointed at Armani with the other. “No, you did this to him. You killed him when you set up to have Simone killed and then you left him scarred for life both internally and externally. How could you?” Victor asked his eyes never leaving Gabe’s face.

  Donovan interjected. “I know why he did it. It was out of greed, plain and simple.” He said disgusted. “Isn’t that right Gabe?”

  “N-n-n-no,” Gabe stuttered, his face red.

  Victor slapped Gabe’s face hard. “Stop stuttering, you fool. A sure sign you’re lying. I punish pe
ople who lie to me.”

  “We have given Armani life again, eternal life.” Donovan said.

  Gabe rubbed the cheek Victor slapped. “See, you crazies killed him,” Gabe said turning his head to face Donovan. “I knew it.”

  Victor looked at Donovan. “This guy isn’t too bright. He doesn’t seem to understand the fact that we already know he did it with the help of two accomplices.” Victor paused and turned his attention to Gabe. “And you’re going to help us find them, Gabey. Armani will see justice served.”

  “What are you talking about?” Gabe asked, puzzled. “Armani’s dead. Look at him.”

  Victor smiled baring his fangs at Gabe. “He was dead and is now reborn.”

  Gabe opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

  “What’s the matter, Gabe? Cat got your tongue?” Donovan asked sarcastically. “Armani is very much alive. He is merely resting.”

  “The sleep of the undead, you idiot,” Victor chimed in. “He’s a vampire now.”

  Gabe shook his head no. “Impossible. What kind of drugs are you guys on?”

  “No drugs I can assure you,” Victor stated. With a strong grip on Gabe’s wrist, he said, “Go ahead, feel his pulse.” Squeezing his wrist harder Victor added, “And if you try anything stupid I will snap your neck in two.”

  Gabe swallowed hard staring at Armani’s pale almost blue face. He looked peaceful, but dead. Didn’t the dead always look peaceful? These two guys were nuts and probably the type that got off on this sort of thing. Could they be serial killers who prey on criminals who commit crimes of a similar nature? With apprehension Gabe reached down and touched Armani’s wrist. Sure enough, he felt a faint slow heartbeat. The color drained from Gabe’s face.

  “What’s the matter?” Victor asked. “Did you think either Donovan or I would deceive you? Now you know the truth and we know the truth about you as well.” He nodded his head at Gabe, “And the truth shall set us all free.”

  “Ok, you’re right. I set it all up but what do you want from me?” He asked lips quivering.

  “Don’t cry, big boy,” Donovan said handing him a tissue. “You are officially on death row, so don’t think about freedom or escaping ever. You’re a day late and a buck short for that.”

  “Do the crime, do the time,” Victor snarled at Gabe. “Picture yourself in a courtroom, Gabe. Armani is the judge and we are the jury.” Placing his finger to his lips he added, “Do you think we will find you guilty?”

  “Hell no, you forced me to admit what I did.” Gabe said. “That’s not fair.”

  “You sound like a baby,” Donovan stated. “You will die at the hands of Armani. The Dark One’s believe in an eye for an eye, son.” Donovan winked at Gabe, giving him a devilish grin.

  “Let me go now! I demand you free me from this house. Do what you want with Armani but I want no part of this Satanic ritualistic behavior!” Gabe screamed trying to break free of Victor’s grip.

  Thunder boomed and lightning illuminated the living room where they stood. Rain pelted the roof like pebbles falling from Heaven. The Rottweiler’s whined running in circles.

  Donovan drifted to the window and gazed outside. “It looks like a bad storm is headed our way. I say we let the dogs in and tie up Mr. Nice Guy here on a leash and treat him like the wild rabid dog he is.” He turned to face Victor and Gabe. In his hands he held a shock collar. “Let the torture begin.”

  Gabe shook with fear. These guys were sick. There was no way out and it appeared they were going to torture him for a while before ending his misery.

  “Where in the hell did you get that collar from?” Gabe asked. “Armani would never put one of those on his beloved dogs. They are like his children.”

  “It appeared magically. Vampires have many powers. Haven’t you ever educated yourself about the undead?” Donovan asked. “Now come here and sit.” Donovan ordered using hypnosis forcing Gabe to obey.

  Victor released his grip on Gabe and watched in amusement. Gabe squatted on his haunches, crawling like an obedient dog and sat before Donovan. Donovan slipped the collar around Gabe’s neck tightening it just enough to make it uncomfortable but not deadly. They didn’t want him choking himself to death. What fun would that be?

  “Are you going to make him shake next?” Victor asked a smirk on his face.

  Donovan laughed and shook his head no. He couldn’t believe the sense of humor Victor had. It was unusual for him to have a funny bone in his body. Today for whatever reason Donovan saw a different, more likable side of Victor. Maybe he was changing and light was beginning to shine in his dark vacant evil soul. Donovan released Gabe from the trance and watched as Gabe tried relentlessly to remove the collar. Bad move on Gabe’s part. Donovan pushed a button and both vampires watched Gabe land on his back screaming in pain.

  “Friend,” Victor began, “your pain was self chosen. Think about it. The more you struggle or disobey the more times we have to push the button and cause you pain. Please be an obedient dog because we will take great pleasure in treating you like a disobedient dog that gets beat.” Victor said with great satisfaction.

  Gabe stood, his hands gripping the thick black collar. A small compartment was attached to it that reminded him of the barrel on a St. Bernard’s collar. Only this one wasn’t to help, it was to hurt.

  “Please, show me mercy and let me go,” Gabe begged on the verge of tears. Desperation filled his voice. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

  Victor’s head rolled back. Laughing he said, “Tell anyone? What in the world are you talking about? We are the servants of justice here, not you. The Dark Ones avenge the wrongs committed by people, such as your self. You more than likely would have gotten away with this. You would be just another guilty man who slips through the cracks. Well, consider your luck to have run out.” Victor hooked a leash onto the collar, kicked Gabe in the ribs and jerked the leash hard making Gabe’s head fly forward. “Don’t worry you will be given water and minimal food. Although I haven’t decided what kind of food I’ll feed you yet.” Victor smiled and walked toward the door, black cape flowing behind him and led Gabe into the early morning light.

  Donovan watched. Victor had a way of putting fear into people with the simple fluctuations of his voice. He smiled and walked to where Armani slept looking so peaceful. He had cast a spell on him so that he would sleep until this evening. Having gone through the emotional turmoil Armani had endured the past few months, waking up and adjusting to this would prove to be a hard task. The truth of the transformation was a topic to be brought up at another time and place. Donovan rationalized that he would teach Armani the ways of the Dark One’s and give him time to adjust to his new life as a vampire and allow him to avenge Simone’s death before dropping the bomb. Armani would be angry when he heard the truth about the transformation. He hoped it wouldn’t turn Armani’s heart stone cold and dark letting the demons of hatred and anger that dwelt inside everyone, human and vampire alike loose.

  “Come here Gabe.” Victor ordered snapping his fingers.

  Gabe swallowed hard. “I refuse to get in that dog kennel.” Standing his ground, he crossed his arms. “I’m a human. Not a damn dog that you can control.”

  Victor laughed and pressed the shock collars button. Amused, he said, “Oh really now. I just made you lie down so I would dare say that yes indeed, I can and do control you.” Staring at Gabe, he sneered. “Now get over here or I will do something worse than push this button and give you a shock.” Victor stated his eyes black as a starless night’s sky.

  Gabe knew he would be a fool not to listen at this point. He felt like a mouse trapped in a maze with no way out. He took one step at a time wishing the walk to Victor were miles away. He stopped a few inches from him. He didn’t know why he always felt so cold when he was near him.

  Victor grabbed Gabe’s arm and dragged him the rest of the way to the kennel, stopping in front of the large silver door. He smiled wickedly at Gabe. “Welcome to your new home. Of
course, it’s temporary.” Victor sensed Gabe’s fear and pulled him close. He grabbed a handful of Gabe’s hair and jerked his head back exposing his neck. Victor watched the blood pulse through Gabe’s arteries, his mouth wet with saliva. His stomach growled, loud enough for Gabe to hear.

  Bile rose in Gabe’s throat. “Oh God, help me. Don’t do this to me. Don’t bite me and drink my blood.” Gabe stammered and closed his eyes waiting for the pain of Victor’s sharp fangs to tear into his neck.

  Victor thrust Gabe’s head forward and threw him in the cage. Gabe fell hard on the cement floor. He rubbed his head and looked up at Victor. The kennel door shut with enough force to break it.

  Victor pointed at him and laughed. “You were worried about me feasting on you?” He questioned not waiting for an answer. “First of all I don’t drink tainted blood and the taste of your blood would sicken me. Secondly, I find it quite amusing that someone like you mentions God asking Him to help your sorry ass.” Victor chuckled, slicked his jet black hair back and stared at Gabe. “The reality of this situation is that only God could save you, but I’m afraid you and Him aren’t on good terms. That’s just a guess. Oh, and welcome to Death Row and I hope you enjoy your stay.” Victor gave him a polite bow and disappeared.

  Gabe, feeling like a helpless child curled up in a ball and cried for the first time in years. He couldn’t remember the last time he shed a tear. He hung his head in shame when he realized what a selfish person he truly was, for the tears he cried were for himself and no one else, not even Armani.

  Donovan stood beside the couch staring at Armani lost in thought when Victor tapped his shoulder. He flinched. It still amazed him how powerful they, as vampires were. They could enter a room silent as a mouse and sneak up on anyone. Hunting was always easy. The person never expected or heard them coming.