Empire of Blood [Box Set]

by Robert S. Wilson

  ***

  The pain was unbearable and the need to slip away into that dark canyon beyond the animated world was strong inside the Queen's heart. But she was almost there. The second child, Hank's child, was coming now and she could feel him out there somewhere losing strength as she had moments ago. Sinking down into a pit of emptiness and death.

  She reached out then with her mind far away to where his heart still barely beat. Electric impulses of sight and hearing and touch and love stretched out from her and through miles of wind and rain and cold and hate and fire and death and screaming, it connected with him and she let the whole of her experience go into his heart and mind.

  She watched as the child's head came free and Ishan looked up at her with such love and light and then the arms were coming out and the body and slowly he pulled the legs from her and raised the child in his arms and placed the little thing in front of her and she took it and held it and let her eyes wander over its tiny body.

  And for that moment, encapsulated in time, she gave Hank the last breath of her strength and she breathed no more.

  ***

  Hank's eyes opened. His shoulders pushed and pushed and his hands freed themselves and he pushed his fingers against Joseph's face with something beyond his own strength. Something new and pure and filled with love and power. The Emperor screamed with the shock of it then rose to his feet and backed away holding his face.

  Hank was up on his feet now. He stepped closer and closer to the Emperor as the creature blindly staggered backward, reaching behind himself with his hands, his eyes now white, blood red splotches shaped like Hank's hands stretched out around them.

  "You were wrong about Diana. She lives. I just saw her birth for myself. She lives and she is strong and so am I. And now it's time to finally do what I came here to do. It's time to end this. For Toby, for my wife and my daughter, for every life you've taken, for every soul you've corrupted. For every heart you've torn out and eaten before the bearer's eyes with that greedy sickening grin of yours. It's time for it all to end."

  Hank’s words reverberated around the room as he reached forward and took hold of the Emperor's neck and pulled him close. The thing before him screamed out like a banshee, still blind to everything around it. Hank took hold of Joseph's head with his other hand then and felt the fangs extend within his mouth.

  He thrust his face forward and clenched his teeth onto Joseph's throat, willing the venom out. He could feel it spraying out of him and into the Emperor's veins all throughout the monster's body. Spreading. Joseph's body began to quake in Hank’s hands and within seconds it went still.

  Hank looked into those pupilless eyes. Some semblance of movement was still visible within them but it was fading quickly. The hand still holding up the creature's body could feel his pulse running in and out of its neck. He wasn't dead just yet but he would be soon. Hank picked up the body and flung it over his shoulder. He had one more thing to do before it was too late. One last thing.

  ***

  The world blurring and tearing around him, Ishan reached gently beneath the tiny child's body and lifted her up and carefully kneeled down and placed her in the makeshift crib alongside her sister. The two babies lay there kicking randomly and staring at their little hands. Both mouths were open, one adorned with two long fangs like her mothers, the other void of anything that would allow it to be discernable from any other human child.

  With both children lying in the crib, Ishan rose and turned to his lover, his mother, his everything. She lay still, eyes staring into the void. He took her hand in his then and buried his face in her chest and, as the tears threatened to flood his face and fill his lungs, he shook with the impact of her loss.

  ***

  Hank picked up the camera sitting in the heap of junk. He had a hunch there was a way for the Emperor to transmit live from it and he was about to find out just how likely that hunch was. Joseph's body lay on the floor shaking with slow violent convulsions as Hank searched around the room. On the wall, half busted, a long flat television was embedded. It took him a few minutes to figure out how, but he managed to find the flat invisible buttons just below the screen and turned it on. Fires erupted behind explosions, and gunfire and Hank knew he was watching the current news. More and more bloodshed and all for what? So this monster lying on the floor could have some kind of ultimate power over these people? So he could live for thousands of years and lord over those he felt were beneath him?

  It was beyond anything Hank could understand. He flipped the switch on the camera that said LIVE and after a short few-millisecond delay, the screen on the television turned dark with the image of Emperor Caesar's broken and crumpled body lying in a pile of debris. Hank zoomed in on the man's pale and withered face. He grabbed the camera’s built in microphone and pulled it over to his mouth.

  "This is your lord and savior, Joseph Caesar. His body is breaking apart from the inside. In just a short moment he will no longer live and you will all be free. Free to worship as you choose. Free to rebuild what was once a great nation either in its own image or into something entirely new. You will be free to start again without fear of reprisal or death for doing what one man has declared a sin. Watch carefully as his breath runs out."

  Caesar's chest rose and fell three more times then his body twitched upward and in one quick jolt, he exhaled one long loud gravely breath.

  ***

  Dustin sat hiding in the shadows listening for some sign that anyone else had survived. It had been a complete massacre. The vampires disappeared first and then another wave of Imperial soldiers came in firing and within seconds the whole place was on fire. Some other bomb or something, he wasn't sure. He only knew he couldn't feel his left leg and it wasn't likely he would live much longer anyway if the Imperials found him like this. He took a deep breath and held it so he could listen.

  Nothing

  The streets were on fire still. Cars, buildings, everything. Bodies were scattered all around him.

  A gleeful cry broke out into the night, filling the silence with its joy.

  Dustin was sure then that he was about to breathe his last. He turned his head in the direction of the voice and more cries erupted from just up the street. A figure dressed all in black half walked, half marched between the flaming cars and buildings holding out an Imperial flag. Dustin tried to scoot himself to where he could hide but it was no use. The creature crept closer and closer, a massive grin spread across its face. It locked eyes with Dustin then and quickened its pace.

  The vampire stopped suddenly and raised the flag up and, in an instant, the black and white stripes caught fire. The creature held out the flag then and in that same loud whooping voice, as the flames bit into that single black star and melted through, it yelled out to Dustin. "The Emperor is dead!"

  Behind the creature other voices rose up and echoed his words back to him with equal fervor.

  "The Emperor is dead!"

  ***

  When Hank could no longer hold the camera up and pointed at Joseph's face, he set it aside and flipped off the LIVE switch then crawled toward the door that led out of that terrible place. He could feel the venom eating away his insides now. It was painful but with a dullness to it as if his body were in shock. Every movement was like the most impossible feat now. He crawled and crawled and crawled and didn't seem to get very far, but still he tried. Those last moments of Diana's birth played and replayed in his mind and he smiled each and every time he revisited her face.

  She was perfect. In every way.

  He only wished he could live to see her in person. He fought back the despair that tried to sprout from that thought and buried it deep in the pit of his heart. It was done and nothing could change that now. The best he could have hoped for had came to pass in learning that she was alive and well. It was all he could have asked for and more to be able to see her just that one time.

  The Queen was gone too, the loss had stung, but in that last moment they had shared something mor
e powerful than he could imagine. In that moment he had felt her love for him, for Ishan, for Simon, for Diana and her sister, for all of them, all of her children. And all the doubts he had ever had about the choices she made, the secrets she kept, fled from his mind and he stopped crawling and lay there, ready for what would come next.

  The question of his existence, of Heaven, of oblivion, none of it mattered anymore. More than anything at that moment, he cherished the time he had had with the ones he loved with every fiber of his being and he realized that, though it could never be enough, he was grateful. He knew now that having just one fleeting glimpse of love was all that any life could ever hope to live for.

  The room faded into nothingness and Hank floated against a backdrop of weightless fluffy clouds as his body lay down below him, still and lifeless. Wind swept through his hair and the scents of oceans, and roses, and the soft breath of a newborn baby surrounded him. And as it all faded away into darkness, one single sound slipped into the void, wrapping itself around him with loving embrace.

  The rising crescendo of Toby's sweet innocent laughter.

  Epilogue: A New Dawn At Dusk

  Ten Years Later

  The house was alive with chatter and laughter. George sat at the head of the dinner table and looked around at the wonderful people the good Lord had blessed him with. He smiled and lifted his glass, tapping the side of it with his spoon. "Everybody... everybody...”

  They all turned and looked back at George, mouths closed.

  “I just want to make a toast to all of you. Today wouldn't be half as wonderful without you." Everybody at the table lifted their glasses.

  "Here here," Yusef said, smiling, the gray in his hair gleaming off of the dining room light.

  In near unison, they all said cheers and then gulped down their drinks. The three boys were all nearly adults now. Umar, the youngest of them, was fourteen and taller than the other two boys. They each sat at the table quietly, barely remembering what life was like before the second revolution.

  Alexandria put her glass back down on the table, a smile on her lined face as her hand gently squeezed Jonny's and the two glanced at one another with a shared loving smile. Jonny looked over at Julie then and he put his arm around her. She was a young woman now as the boys had certainly taken notice of, smiling shyly from across the table.

  The television rambled on in the distance.

  "It's a fine afternoon on this tenth Reclamation Day. While the transition hasn't been completely consistent or uneventful, the death of the Emperor and the detonation of an FG-10 nuclear missile within the city limits of Necropolis—which destroyed the majority of the Imperial vampires—definitely cleared the way for where we're at now...

  "Today also marks a much more recent milestone as all across the New Republic of the United States of America, citizens have gathered to their local polls for the first full-fledged presidential election in over thirty years. In related news, Texas, South Carolina, and Arkansas continue to refuse to join the union, however negotiations are still in progress..."

  ***

  The young Queen sat in her mother's throne, long black hair reaching down to her waist, and focused yellow eyes watching the room with great interest. Ishan stood beside her, watching, alight from her every movement. She was her mother's child in every way: fierce, strong, and wise, especially for her age.

  In time she would gain her mother's powers and then she would go on to lead them all as her mother had before her. All around the main cavern in the Hive, vampires and humans stood united together around a large bonfire, commemorating the memory of those who were lost to the war on that fateful day.

  ***

  In the far corner of the crowd, Simon, Jackie, and Diana sat together talking and laughing while Diana scribbled away with a few crayons on a piece of paper. Her short, cropped amber hair was a close match to the hue of her brother’s, though she had never known him. Her eyes, however, were as brown and unmistakable as her father’s.

  "Whatcha drawing, Dee?" Simon asked.

  "The man from my dreams," Diana said. Jackie laughed.

  Diana covered her face with her hands. "No, not like that!” She giggled. “I don't know who he is but I keep dreaming about him."

  Simon moved to where he could get a clearer view of her drawing. "Oh wow. You really don't know who that is?"

  Diana looked up at Simon. "No. Why?"

  "Diana, that's your father."

  Diana stopped scribbling and put her crayons down and stared long and hard at the picture she had made, her ten-year-old face fighting to express a complex mix of emotions.

  Simon picked up the piece of paper and stared at it himself for a long moment. "Yes, that's him. And you know, I know we talk about him every year about this time, but if it weren't for him, we might all very well be at war still, fighting to get out from beneath the Emperor's rule.

  “There's no way to know what the people will choose from now on. Whether they'll keep rebuilding this new republic or not. But for the past ten years, they've had something they didn't have for a long time."

  Simon handed her the paper back. "Hope.

  "And without your father and the sacrifice he made, that hope wouldn't be possible."

  Diana nodded at Simon and after a long moment of silence, she went back to scribbling with her crayons.

  Simon couldn’t stop looking at it. In the drawing, Hank’s body lay in a pile of dirt and leaves and twigs, his irises glowing through black dusty debris-filled air like the eyes of a phoenix, born of flame and smoke and opening for the first time, its body rising from ashes.

  (UPDATED) NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

  When I first started writing this series, I had big ambitions and lots and lots of naivety in hindsight. Back then I envisioned Empire of Blood as a seven-book series for some god awful reason that I still can’t quite make sense of. It wasn’t until I began writing the second novel that I realized two things. 1. There was no way in hell I could have seven books based on a title that referred to only one aspect of the story that wouldn’t likely last as long as the entire series. 2. To name any future series with #1 in mind.

  And, as I wrote in my dusty old blog some time ago, I do intend... someday... to write more books with these characters (those who survived anyway...). Once I adapted to the realization that Empire of Blood would have to be a trilogy, I decided that any future novels with these characters would have to be the beginning of a new sub-series of sorts. One year removed from the series and about a knew or two deep in development of the new series, I now like to call it a spin-off.

  The new series will follow a grown up Diana, Hank’s human(ish) daughter. I won’t say anything more on that for now but I’ll reveal more as I get further into writing. For now, all that remains to be seen in the near future is the Empire of Blood collection, ORIGINS OF BLOOD, which will be out toward the end of 2017.

  But for now... this is the end, I’m afraid. I hope you’ve enjoyed the trilogy as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it!

  Robert S. Wilson

  Carthage, Tennessee

  April 12th, 2017

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

  This series wouldn’t be intact without a shitload of help, feedback, and good old-fashioned cheerleading from a lot of people.

  First and foremost, I’d like to thank my wife Jennifer Wilson for all she’s put up with from me over the years be it countless hours of howling and gnashing of teeth in regards to negative reviews or the needless droning of lengthy babbling on the subjects of craft, plot, character back stories, or my unending desire to amass an army of pugs. As well as her incredible feedback, thoughtful criticism, and eye for detail.

  But especially for putting up with the pug thing.

  I’d like to thank the following fine human beings for also being utterly and absolutely integral in the process of writing this series at some point: Dustin Cade for threatening me with violence had I not finished book one, Richard Flores for all the beta reading and g
reat feedback, same for April Charisse, Jim Boone and Matthew O’Brien for the research info, CL Stegall for offering me such a stunning cover for book one, Brian Fatah Steele, Scott Nicholson for the mentoring, Michele Dotson (RIP) for being the best fan ever, Malina Roos for my first rave review, Mark Lewis for everything, Emma Hinks, Dave Brzeski, Joe McKinney for an amazingly kind blurb for book one, Ray Wallace, Lisa Lane, Jim Mcleod of Ginger Nuts of Horror, Trent Zelazny, Tim Feely, Tristan Thorne, Drea Lewis, Bill Nienaber, Alex Sheldon Savva, Jed Waggoner, David Monsour, Mindy Nichole Holmes, Leslie Whitaker, Ann Magee for some great research info, Jeffrey Kosh for the phenomenal 3d boxset cover job, and anyone else I’ve forgotten who deserves to be mentioned.

  And of course, every one of you reading this now. You are the biggest reason these books exist. Thank you so much for your support!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Robert S. Wilson is the author of THE QUIET, the EMPIRE OF BLOOD dystopian vampire series, and the dark fiction collection WHERE ALL LIGHT IS LEFT TO DIE. He is the Bram Stoker Award-nominated editor of BLOOD TYPE: AN ANTHOLOGY OF VAMPIRE SF ON THE CUTTING EDGE, a co-editor of HORROR FOR GOOD: A CHARITABLE ANTHOLOGY and NIGHTSCAPES: VOLUME 1, and lives in Middle Tennessee with his family, a silly obnoxious dog, and four psychotic cats skilled in the martial arts.