by Amy Cross
“He used me,” I say, realizing what happened. Suddenly I hear a noise nearby, and I turn.
He's here. Standing in the entrance to the tunnel, staring at me with those deep, dark eyes, Patrick has finally arrived to finish what he started. He steps toward me, and I steel myself for an attack. Finally however, at the last moment, he turns to Dexter and kneels, as if he's surrendering.
Dexter laughs.
Patrick
I remember the one perfect night that we had. Just one. Sometimes that's enough...
Shortly after leaving Gothos, I took Sophie to my old home. It was still warm and safe there, and I wanted to be sure that she understood my intentions. Although we had made love at Gothos, it had been quick and basic, designed to ensure that she became pregnant while on the Gothos grounds. But now, I realized I had just one chance to teach her the true extent of my love for her, to try to show her through actions what I could never tell her through words. And although she no longer remembers that night, I can't help but believe that somewhere deep inside her, she knows that I treated her with tenderness and kindness. It might have seemed like nothing, but it was all I could do.
The whole house was lit with candles. We didn't speak for almost an hour, as Sophie looked at Vincent's old books. Finally I stepped up behind her, kissed her neck and ran my hands slowly down her body. I lifted off her shirt and unhooked her bra, and from behind I reached around and held her breasts tightly in my hands. Slowly, I reached down and unbuttoned her jeans, pulling them down and removing her underwear. I let my other hand rest on her belly: although she had been pregnant for only a couple of days, somewhere inside of her was the beginning of a new life.
She turned to me, undressed me, and led me to the bed, where we kissed as I touched her body, running my hands down her side and pulling her close to me. As she rolled onto her back and I leaned over her, for the first time I let her see properly the two large fangs that are common to my species. Then I slowly made my way down her body, kissing a line from her neck, over the mound of her breasts, and down to her crotch. Holding her firmly by the hips, I tasted her and caressed her deep inside as she moaned. I was careful not to hurt her, not to let my fangs cut her, as I reached my tongue deep up and inside her body and finally she gasped as her body twitched, tensed and then shook with the force of pleasure.
Then I moved back up her body and kissed her as I slipped myself inside her, and she wrapped her legs around me. I looked deep into her eyes as we moved together in rhythm. This was the moment for which I had been waiting since the first moment I rescued her so many months ago, but I had always known that I had to wait until Gothos before we could become lovers, and I had managed to fight every urge to take her before the right moment finally arrived.
Later that night, I watched her sleep. I already knew that our time together was coming to a close. All I had to do was wait for the child to be born, and then I could begin to die. As much as I hate all other vampires, I know that a child that has Sophie's heart can never be a bad creature, and will grow instead to become a better vampire than I will ever be. And although I would dearly love to be able to raise that child with Sophie, I also know that a vampire child would never be safe, would always be targeted by those who wish to possess such a thing for their own needs. So the child had to go away, had to be hidden in the one place where I'm absolutely sure it can never be found until it's old enough to look after itself. Everything else is unimportant. I have known from the start that Sophie would hate me for taking the child away, but I can never hope to make her understand.
As I sat there watching her sleep, I knew that for her sake, and for the sake of our child, I would have to let them hate me, and I would have to die, and I would have to give my body to those who seek it, so that they would no longer seek the child. If I did not sacrifice myself, they would go after the child instead, an easier target. As I always knew, as my father once taught me, at the end of everything there is only death, and that is the path that has led me to this moment, kneeling before Dexter Logan. Even now, however, I know that ultimately I will be unsuccessful. One day, the prophecy will come true, and Sophie will die at my hands. I just hope that today is not that day.
Sophie
Suspended naked from the wall by his own manacles, his wrists clamped in metal and his feet hanging a few meters above the floor, Patrick is finally subdued. As he wakes, he looks up groggily and seems unable at first to focus on anything. Then, finally, he turns to me and his eyes are filled with a kind of shock. When he came here tonight, he wasn't expecting to find that we were ready to turn the tables on him. He thought he'd be in control, as usual. Or did he? As I stare at him, I find myself wondering if he knew that this would happen all along.
“I can take it from here,” Dexter says, his eyes open wide as he stares at his prize. “I have what I need”.
“The baby,” Shelley says. “Where's the baby?”
Dexter grins. “Well, vampire? Where's the baby? Tell the girls, so they can be on their way”.
Patrick stares at us. It's clear that he's not going to answer. He'll die rather than surrender, but I'm not sure if Dexter is ready to push him that far. After all, it seems as if Dexter is more interested in keeping Patrick alive, torturing him, and getting the information that he needs.
“You'll never find it,” Dexter says, turning to me. “Not now, at least. He's hidden the child too well, with people who can't be reached. But one day the child will come and find you, when it's old enough to care about things like that”.
“I can't wait that long,” I say
“Then I can't help you,” he replies. “I can't make the fucking vampire speak. I'm sure you've tried enough times. Follow his tracks. The baby will be up in the mountains somewhere. Go try to find it. I have things to do”. And with that, he slashes at Patrick's naked torso with a silver dagger, drawing blood and forcing a grimace of pain to shoot across Patrick's face.
I push past Dexter and approach Patrick. He barely has the energy to look at me.
“You have to tell me,” I say. “If any of this ever meant anything to you, I need to know where the baby is. Please. You have to let me find her. Forget about everything else. You know you have to tell me”.
He stares at me, his eyes dull and tired. It's almost as if he's given up, as if he no longer has any appetite for the fight. But why would that be? What could possibly render Patrick so lost and pathetic?
“Tell me,” I say. “For once in your life, speak to me. Say words. Tell me where the baby is. Our baby. Help me find her so I can look after her. If you only ever speak to me one time, this is when it needs to happen”.
He stares at me and then, slowly, he lets his head droop.
“Fine,” I say. I step right up to her and I kiss him on the cheek, hoping to reawaken something in him. “Thanks for everything,” I whisper, “but this is over, do you understand? I'm going to go, and I'm going to let this guy do whatever he wants to you. And one day, somehow, I'm going to find the child you've taken from me. Wherever you've hidden her. Wherever you've taken her. I'm going to find her. And I'll tell her about you, but don't worry. I'll leave out all the bad parts. All the cruelty and the deception and the killing. I'll leave that out. I'll make her believe that you were a good person”.
He doesn't reply.
He never replies.
Dexter grins nervously. “Get out of here, girls. Leave the men to their business”. He looks so excited, as if he's finally getting what he always wanted.
“I don't get it,” Shelley says. “Why has he just surrendered? Why isn't he fighting?”
"I don't know," I reply, keeping my eyes fixed on Patrick. "I thought for a while that I understood how his mind works, but I was wrong. I don't really know him at all."
"He's sacrificing himself because he's ready to die," Dexter says. "That's why he wanted the baby. Now that there's a new last vampire, Patrick no longer has to keep going. He can give up. He thinks that he can protect the child by offering himsel
f instead. He's right. With Patrick on the cutting slab, the Watchers won't bother going after the baby”.
"Who are the Watchers?" I ask. "People keep mentioning them, and someone called Benjamin, but I don't know who they are or what they really want."
"You don't need to know," Dexter replies. "Let's just say that they're very interested in vampires, and they want to cut one up into tiny pieces and see how it works." He turns to me. "Now, if you're going, you'd better get on with it. Time's precious here, ladies."
I stare at Patrick, hanging there, unable or unwilling to say anything. It's as if he really doesn't care, as if he just wants to get this over with, as if I'm just an afterthought, an annoyance, a piece in his puzzle.
“Goodbye, Patrick,” I say. I turn to Shelley. “Let's go”.
“You sure?” she replies.
I nod. Although part of me wants to cry, another part of me – a stronger part – is determined to make sure that I wait until I'm alone. I don't want anyone to see my weakness.
“Come on,” I say, turning to leave the chamber.
“Adios, you two,” says Shelley to Patrick and Dexter. “Have a nice party”. She runs to catch up with me.
“Let's just get out of here,” I say, still looking straight ahead as we leave. “I've got to find that baby”.
We walk a few paces before Shelley grabs my arm. “Wait,” she says. “What about the prophecy you talked about?”
“Like I said,” I reply, “there's no such thing. That was just a load of superstition”.
“And you know that how?” Shelley says. “Think about it. All the other stuff, about vampires and werewolves and all that crap, turned out to be true. So why not the crap about prophecies? What's different?”
I stop and turn to her. “What do you want me to do? Go back in there and demand that he kills me, to prove a point?”
“No,” she says, “but I want you to think about why Patrick just sacrificed himself. Seriously, think about it, what's the one way he could make absolutely certain that he would never kill you?”
I stare at her, slowly understanding what she's saying.
“If he dies,” Shelley says, “the prophecy is broken. Don't you get it? He's sacrificing himself so that he doesn't have to end up killing you. It's the only thing that makes sense”.
“No,” I say, “he's sacrificing himself because he got what he wanted, he got the baby, and now he just wants to die. For fuck's sake, Shelley, he killed Adam!”
“Did he?” she replies. “You only have Dexter's word for that. And Patrick was away with the baby, which means the only person who could have killed Adam is Dexter himself”.
I try not to believe it. At first I thought Patrick loved me, and then I realized he was just using me to get the child he wanted. But maybe both those things are true. To be honest, I don't know what to believe right now.
“If he feels something,” I say, “why doesn't he tell me? Why doesn't he say it? Why doesn't he show it? You saw him back there. He wants to die”.
“Then don't let him,” Shelley says. “Stop him. You want him to show you that he loves you? Show him that you love him too”.
"I don't love him," I reply.
She smiles. "Bullshit."
"I don't!"
"Seriously?" She stares at me for a moment. "You slept with him, didn't you? I mean, fuck it, what's wrong with you? You're not me! You don't sleep with random guys, so why did you go to bed with him? And that year when you were away. What happened then? Was it hell, every second? Or was there something else?" She pauses. "If you walk away and leave him up there, maybe you're being just as bad and uncommunicative and dumb as he's being."
I look back along the tunnel, back toward the chamber where we left Dexter and Patrick. “He's willing to die to protect us,” I say quietly, to myself. “He's willing to die so he can keep Abigail safe, and so he can keep me safe."
“Typical man,” says Shelley. “He'll do all this, but he won't say those three little words”. She takes a deep breath. "If you go back in there and knock old skull-face out, there's no reason Patrick has to die."
“I have to stop him,” I say.
"But if you do," she continues, "the prophecy is back on. If he lives, he might end up killing you”.
“Only if you believe in prophecies,” I say, staring her down. The truth is: I don't believe in prophecies. Or at least, I believe that they can be broken. After all of this, after everything that has happened, I still believe I'm in charge of my own future, and I still believe I can keep Patrick alive and still be sure that he won't kill me. I can stop myself from making whatever mistake pushes Patrick to end my life. I can make everything okay again.
Patrick
Death places his hard, cold hand on my shoulder and whispers in my ear that he's been waiting for me. I open my eyes. I've been waiting for him too.
After two thousand years, I guess I started to think that I was immortal. Stupid, I know, but I started thinking I'd outlast every other creature on this planet, perhaps even outlast the planet itself. I used to imagine the Earth breaking apart, crumbling to dust as the sun eventually goes supernova, and I imagined myself falling through the cold vacuum of space, lost and alone, destined to float like that until the universe itself was destroyed. And even then, perhaps I would survive, floating forever and ever, with nothing to do but dream of my old life and howl into the vacuum. But now, finally, Death has caught up with me; I have invited it to conquer me. And although this dumb human delights in torturing my body, he can never overcome the sheer joy I feel at having reached this point.
Turning, I see a spider crawling across the wall. Those damn things refuse to die, even though their time is long since over. When their forefathers ruled vast areas of the world, the spiders were among the most revered and noble species. They were as intelligent and powerful as the vampires and the werewolves, but the spiders picked the wrong battle. They tried to fight the vampires, and they were defeated. Only a few of their species remain alive, but those last specimens have de-evolved to the point that they're little more than dumb creatures, forever spinning webs and running in fear from humans. The spider empire is long since forgotten by all but the wisest of men.
Sophie is safe. Although she now hates me, and believes I never loved her, she at least will never have to die at my hands. I have done something that my father told me was impossible: I have beaten a prophecy. I have shown that it is possible to take your own destiny and shape it as you wish. When the vampires' war with the spiders ended, the prophecy was the means by which that conflict was sealed. There were those who believed that by defying the prophecy, I would risk reopening that seal and reigniting the spiders' lust for violence, but such ideas are fanciful at best. The spiders are no longer a threat.
And the child is safe. Those who seek vampires will be happy to pick over my corpse for the next few years. By the time they turn their attention to the child, they will be too late. She will become stronger than I could ever have been, and she will deal with her enemies when the time comes. Like her mother, she too will hate me. But again, I accept this. I would rather they were alive and hated me, than died while loving me.
So Death can take me. I'm happy with the terms of this deal. My life for theirs. One small loss in exchange for a pair of great victories. I'll take that.
“Hi,” says a voice from somewhere else in the chamber. I raise my head to see that Sophie's friend has returned.
Dexter, poised to begin cutting me up alive, turns to her. “What do you want?” he shouts.
“I want to watch,” she replies. She steps forward, a glint in her eyes and a smile on her lips. She's pretty; not as pretty as Sophie, but pretty. However, she has a slightly dirty, almost depraved glint in her eye that tells me there's a dark side to her soul that she rarely, if ever, lets the world see. “How often do you get the chance to watch a real live vampire die?” she asks. “I won't get in the way. Just let me watch. It's kind of erotic”. She runs a han
d over Dexter's shoulder. "To be honest, sweetheart, it kind of turns me on."
She eyes me up, grinning slightly, looking at my bleeding torso. I don't have the energy to respond; I just hang there, waiting to die.
“Keep out of my way,” Dexter says brusquely, turning back to face me. “I understand why you want to watch me enjoy my victory, but I don't need any distractions”. And with that, he plunges the silver dagger into my side. The pain washes through me, but I refuse to scream. I lived in silence, and I will die in silence. Just like my father.
“Oh that's so hot,” the girl says. “This is like a fantasy come true. You should feel the state of my panties right now”.
“I'm taking my time,” Dexter says. “I want to enjoy this, and I want him to suffer”. He twists the knife.
I don't scream.
The girl puts her arms around Dexter's waist. “Delayed gratification, huh?” she says. “I love it. Can I cut him? Please?”
Dexter pushes her away, but he doesn't notice that she managed to grab the manacle keys from him. I stare at her, trying to work out what she's doing. I'm ready to die, and I don't need anyone to interfere. The only way I can truly show Sophie that I love her is by dying so that the prophecy will never come true. However, as I look up at the ceiling, I see a spider crawling across the stone, followed by another, and then another. With a heavy heart, I realize that if the prophecy is denied, chaos will reign. If one prophecy falls, they'll all fall. With the spiders massing and starting to fall onto my naked body, I realize I've made a terrible mistake.
“Not many humans have killed a vampire,” Dexter says, coming close to me, the silver dagger in his hand. He brushes some of the spiders away from my chest. “Please don't doubt that I recognize what a great honor this is. I will always, always remember this moment and...” He smiles as he stares into my eyes - “I will tell this story to all who need to hear it. And don't worry about your body, it won't go to waste”. He runs his hand over my smooth chest. “I'll be cutting this baby up to find out its secrets. And then I'll create a whole new race of vampires. Your species will live on”.