Fear the Light

by William Massa

Vincent instinctively threw himself over Maria and shielded her body from the blast, an act that didn’t go unnoticed by Angelique. As Vincent finally looked up, his features basked in the fiery glow of destruction, a grim realization settled in: No one was going to leave this party any time soon!

  CHAPTER TEN

  VINCENT AND THE others returned to the dining room to find another surprise waiting for them. A new date was carved into the dining table…

  1944.

  The year that Faust was turned, Vincent realized.

  Once again, the date was accompanied by a dead bat and matched the original seating arrangement from the night before. Whoever was behind these murders had either been present at the meeting or watching them through some other means.

  Sebastian was the first to speak: “The killer was here! While he was setting off his little firework show, the son of a bitch just waltzed in here and left his signature.”

  “He thinks he's so fucking slick. But he's dead and just doesn't know it yet.” Zane’s wild eyes ticked back and forth, looking at everyone and no one in particular. “You’re dead, you hear me? YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!”

  Zane was coming unglued and his meltdown wasn’t helping their situation.

  “What now?” Sebastian asked.

  Zane’s eyes glittered as he spoke. “We do what we should've done from the start. We search this place and take care of our problem.”

  Vincent shook his head.

  “We split up now, he’ll pick us off one by one.”

  Zane slammed his gloved fist on the dining room table, rattling the two dead bats.

  “No offense, but I'm not going to sit still while this fucker plots his next move.”

  “We're playing right into his hands.” Vincent let his cold assessment of the situation sink in.

  “You’ve lost your edge, darling,” Angelique said. Calling Vincent darling wasn’t improving Zane’s mood. Angelique continued, seemingly oblivious to the effect her words were having. “I remember a time when you’d already be feasting on this murderer. Now you ask us to cower like sheep waiting for the slaughter.”

  Angelique turned to the remaining members of the clan, riding the momentum of her words. “I say we hunt down whoever did this and make them regret the moment they set foot in this place.”

  “Right on!” Angelique had hit on a plan Zane could rally behind. Vincent watched the biker enthusiastically step up to Angelique, taking his place at her side. Coraline, Sebastian and finally even Julian followed suit. Leaving Vincent the odd man out. No surprise there.

  “Looks like you're going to hold down the fort all by your lonesome,” Angelique noted.

  Zane tilted his head toward the two ashen-faced human captives. “What about the meat?”

  Angelique nodded matter-of-factly. “Kill them.”

  A look of eager anticipation flashed across Zane’s rough-hewn features as he strode up to the terrified couple. Maria's teary eyes confronted Zane's bloodthirsty gaze. “Please... You said you’d let us go if I helped you...”

  Maria’s pleas fell on deaf ears, Zane not even slowing down, fangs distended, a predator readying himself for the kill.

  “Sorry honey, but I don't recall making any such promises-”

  “But I do.”

  Vincent stepped in front of Maria and Paul, shielding the humans and blocking Zane’s advance.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Zane asked.

  “Keeping a promise.”

  “You can't be fucking serious!”

  “Do I look like I’m fucking around?”

  The other vampires watched with interest. The confrontation offered a momentary diversion from their predicament. Only Angelique seemed bored by the whole affair, already knowing how it would all play out.

  Vincent continued. “I told Maria she'd walk away from all this if she helped us. I gave her my word. I intend to keep it.”

  “Someone sure is growing attached to the food,” Coraline said. Vincent ignored her, his eyes never leaving Zane, waiting for the massive biker to make his move. For a moment it seemed like Zane was unsure about what to do next, but the quick glance from Angelique told him to back off. He reluctantly complied.

  “You like her so much, you stay back here with your new girlfriend while we search the castle,” Angelique said.

  “Are you crazy? You're just going to turn your back on him?”

  For once Zane made sense. If their roles were reversed, Vincent wouldn’t let Zane out of his sight. And Angelique’s next statement suggested that she felt the same way, despite their history.

  “Sebastian will keep an eye on Vincent.”

  Sebastian traded a measured look with Angelique, then nodded. Angelique continued, “We split up because we have a lot of ground to cover, but we’ll be smart about it. We form teams of two. Keep your eyes on each other at all times. Until we know otherwise, any one of us could be the killer.”

  The clan fanned out from the dining room, leaving Vincent and Sebastian to guard the two terrified humans.

  ***

  The afternoon sun was beating down on the castle as Coraline and Julian made their way through a vast library. Dust-covered tomes, hundreds of years old, lined the endless walls. The knowledge of centuries lay at their fingertips.

  Julian studied the rows upon rows of books, marveling at the vast collection. His eyes glittered with intellectual curiosity and childlike enthusiasm. Coraline watched the former priest revert to old ways and liked what she was seeing.

  “Quite an amazing collection, isn’t it?” Julian said, misinterpreting her interest.

  Coraline responded in a bored voice. “This whole room could fit on my iphone.”

  “I hope you’re joking. Most of these volumes are originals. Some of them have been lost for centuries. We’re talking about one-of-a-kind items transcribed by hand.”

  Coraline flashed Julian a coquettish smile. “You know you look kinda cute when you're not praying.”

  Julian eyed Coraline. Was she flirting with him?

  The thought sent a jolt of excitement through his entire being.

  “Tell me, father. Do you still honor your vows?”

  Julian’s response was swift and telling - he knocked a stack of books over.

  Coraline grinned with delight, satisfied with the effect she was having. This was too easy.

  “I guess you can take the boy out of the church but you can't take the church out of the boy.”

  Coraline sauntered toward the shelves, oozing sensuality with each step. Julian found himself unable to concentrate. The book in his hand had lost much of its appeal. Julian was surprised at how easily Coraline had managed to throw him off. All part of the blonde vampire’s sultry charisma. She had the ability to get under a man’s skin, be they a human victim or a fellow member of the clan.

  Julian watched as Coraline searched the stacks, liberating one book after another from their shelves.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “The master mentioned once that the chateau’s architectural plans were kept inside the library.”

  “I'm still not following.”

  “Think about it. This structure has its share of secret passageways and chambers, right? One of them might be another way out of here. Or at least it could give us a better idea where our killer might be hiding.”

  Unless the killer is hiding in plain sight, Julian thought.

  Julian wasn’t a betting man, but he would put his money on Vincent right now if he had to point fingers.

  “If you want to get out of here so bad, why not just take the front door?”

  Coraline shot Julian a scolding look, not charmed by his sarcasm.

  “I know we’re stuck here as long as the sun is out. But one of these underground tunnels might put some distance between us and the killer.”

  Julian considered Coraline’s words. The killer might’ve anticipated this move too and might want them to head down one of those dark, da
nk passageways. Julian wasn’t completely sold on the logic of Coraline’s plan but said: ”Excellent idea.” Judging from her delighted smile, Julian had picked the right response.

  Coraline continued her search.

  Not having anything better to do and wanting to be close to this alluring creature, Julian joined her.

  ***

  Angelique and Zane made their way through a vast, spooky wine cellar. There were walls upon walls of cobwebbed bottles. Angelique could make out skittering sounds. Rats.

  The cellar, like the rest of the chateau, felt like an elaborate movie set. It made Angelique think of old Hammer horror flicks and Halloween Horror Night at Universal Studios. She used to visit the theme park around the holidays if she found herself in Los Angeles or Orlando. In a strange way, it was kind of liberating to reveal her true nature without anyone being the wiser. Until it was too late, her victim cornered, hope fading, fate sealed. But taking in the various gothic trappings of her surroundings made Angelique think about how the centuries had exacted their toll on Dracula. She hated to admit it but the master had turned into a sad cliché. A creature trapped in his own past. But once upon a time the Count had been different. Once upon a time, Dracula had been Angelique’s savior and lover.

  The year was 1794, the height of the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror. The rivalry between the Girondins and Jacobins was at its fiercest. The guillotine was claiming tens of thousands of unfortunate souls every day, all so-called “enemies of the revolution.” Angelique was destined to be one of them, just another statistic in another bloody conflict. She could feel the hate-filled glares of the mob as she was led up to the killing machine that awaited her. Her once-exquisite dress, now streaked with dried mud, clung in tatters to her malnourished frame. The guillotine’s blade shimmered in the fading sunlight, the ephemeral beauty of the light soon to make way for death. The soldiers had raped Angelique repeatedly and all she had to look forward to now was the void – she hoped the end would be both swift and painless.

  As the gloved hands steered her toward the lethal instrument that would separate her head from her torso, and in turn remove her dreams and aspirations from this world, Angelique sensed a sudden ominous presence among the blood-thirsty mob. She held her head low, bowed by a mixture of shame and exhaustion, but this stranger’s stare was different and compelled her to look up. As their eyes met, it stirred feelings deep inside of her. This new arrival was different than the other members of the mob. The crowd seemed to shrink back from him as if this was the grim reaper himself, arriving to claim his prize.

  What happened next was a blur but his hand reached for hers and Angelique took it without hesitation, accepting all that was to follow. She had given herself fully to her dark savior: flesh, heart and soul. She would wake later in a dank hotel room where she would be greeted by the squeaks of rats fighting over a piece of moldy cheese. But she was still whole.

  Changed.

  Reborn.

  Angelique became more than she could ever have imagined. And over the next few years, she would make Paris bleed for the ill will it had borne towards her. Every man who had laid hands upon her was found with their throats savaged, the red contents of their bodies seeping into the cobbled streets. Angelique refused to feed on these men, taking their lives but refusing to sully herself with their blood, choosing instead to let their crimson lifeforce go to waste in the rain-soaked gutters of Paris.

  Dracula and Angelique lasted fifty years before they parted ways as lovers, the master having set his sights on a new conquest while Angelique’s eyes began to wander too. Their separation was mutual, and they remained close.

  Dracula saved Angelique more than two hundred years ago, and she would always remain grateful for this kindness but her feelings for him paled in comparison to those she harbored for Vincent. And the latest incident in the dining hall had given her hope. She had spotted a light in Vincent’s eyes that had been absent for too many years. When he had stepped in to protect the meat, she’d caught a glimpse of a savage side that had laid dormant for way too long. The vampire she loved was still within her grasp.

  Angelique’s attention shifted back to the present and to Zane, who was inspecting a wall of wine bottles with growing curiosity. Zane snatched one of the bottles of wine, popped open the cork, and sniffed it. He took a hesitant sip and spat it out. “Shit! It's actually wine.”

  “I hear the master’s label is quite the hit around these parts.”

  Zane’s face turned to stone as he returned the bottle to the wall.

  “Why are we even wasting our time? We all know Vincent must be the one pulling the strings.”

  “Doubtful.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “It's not his style.”

  “Oh, I forgot. He doesn't play games. Maybe you don't know him as well as you think you do.”

  “Just give it a rest.”

  Zane was unwilling to drop the subject. In fact, he was just getting started. There was a steely certainty as he spoke. “He knows.”

  The statement earned him a long, hard look from Angelique. He was venturing into forbidden territory.

  “Impossible.”

  “Why don't you just come clean and see how he takes it?”

  “I'm warning you, Zane. Just fucking drop it.”

  Angelique meant it. Zane gnashed his teeth in frustration. He had learned that there were certain subjects one didn’t bring up around Angelique, and this was one of them.

  “What is it with you and that guy? You're still not over him, are you? I bet you only hooked up with me to make him jealous.”

  Angelique’s eyes turned to chips of ice. Zane was supposed to be a fun diversion, but he was becoming possessive and Angelique grew tired of his antics. “Want a bit of friendly advice? Shut the fuck up and enjoy the ride.”

  The words stung, but Zane decided to hold his tongue. At least for now.

  ***

  Sebastian leaned back in one of the chairs, feet propped up on the dining table. He was whistling the melody to some famous song. It sounded familiar to Vincent, but he couldn’t quite identify the tune. He hadn’t minded it at first, but after twenty minutes it was getting a bit old and starting to grate on his nerves. Doing his best to block it out, he allowed his eyes to fall on Paul. The young man's listless body was slumped forward, his waxy face drained of all color, bordering on the catatonic. Vincent searched Maria's features. “How is he?”

  “I think he's in shock.” Her voice was a fragile whisper as she spoke. It was obvious she was struggling to keep the tears at bay.

  He needs to eat and replenish the blood he lost, Vincent thought. But the chateau didn’t exactly boast a fully stocked fridge of goodies. As if Maria could read Vincent’s mind, she added: “He needs food. I packed some sandwiches and fruit in our backpack.”

  A moment as Vincent considered Maria’s request. He nodded and proceeded to look for the backpack, which had been unceremoniously tossed aside by Faust the other night. It didn’t take long for him to locate it. These two had traveled light, sustained by their shared passion and newlywed bliss. Vincent felt sorry for the young couple. Even if they should be lucky enough to make it out of here alive, their anniversary would be tainted for all time. Vincent hoped that if they did somehow escape, the ordeal would bring them closer together and not pull them apart. That when they looked into each other’s eyes, they would be reminded of their strength and love and not the horror of that terrible night in the French countryside.

  Vincent scooped up the backpack, snapped open the buckles and located a Ziploc bag containing both fruit and sandwiches. He handed the bag - a much-needed care package - to Maria. She sniffed the sandwiches, making sure they hadn’t spoiled, and eyed Vincent with gratitude. “Thank you… for keeping your promise.”

  Maria leaned toward Paul, sandwich in hand. “Baby, I got some food here.” Paul meekly responded with a gurgled groan, eyelids at half-mast. Completely out of it. “Ple
ase, honey, you must eat something…”

  Paul’s eyes flickered open, struggling to focus. It didn’t seem like he even recognized his own wife anymore. He was gone, mind having retreated to some faraway place. Seeing her husband like this made her heart ache. Her once proud and strong man had become a faded shadow of his former self, and the realization brought tears to her face.

  “Better not to force it,” Vincent said. “He’ll eat when he’s ready.”

  Maria studied Vincent and a faraway look crept into her features, emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Vincent could tell the poor woman was doing her best to keep it together, but she was beginning to slip. He had to act fast or he would have two catatonic prisoners on his hands. And even though disconnecting from reality could provide a short-term escape, Maria would need to keep her wits about her if she wanted to make it through the day.

  “Tell me about yourself, Maria,” Vincent said.

  It took a moment for her gaze to focus and clear. “What do you want to know?”

  “Where are you from?”

  In a halting voice, still unsure about what she should reveal: “Los Angeles…”

  “So am I. Or at least, I’ve lived there long enough for it to feel like home. What do you do?”

  “I'm a waitress.”

  “So you’re an actress.”

  “I’m just another L.A. cliché.” A ghost of a smile.

  Good. Progress. He was drawing her out, engaging her and keeping her thoughts focused on the moment. Vincent continued. “You work the day or night shift?”

  “I like mornings. The lunch crowd tips better, it’s mostly business people.”

  “Might explain why I never ran into you before.”

  Despite her predicament, Maria managed a haunted smile. “How can this be?”

  What she meant to say was, how can you be real? Vincent remained silent, unable to offer an explanation to a mystery he couldn’t grasp himself. Where did vampires come from? Darwin would probably have had some brilliant answer, but as long as the world believed vampires were creatures of myth, their exact place in the evolutionary chain would remain a tantalizing mystery. Some people might expect supernatural beings to have the answers to philosophical questions that had vexed mankind since the dawn of time, but reality would disappoint them.