Eville's Most Wanted

by Holand Peterson

  “Stop! Stop it! I don’t want to hear another word from you. I can’t believe you.”

  “Oh, hush. Here, have some frigarui,” Serene said soothingly, pulling out a skewer of meat.

  “Get that out of my face!” Alex yelled, batting the skewer with the back of his hand and sending it to the floorboard.

  “Hey! That’s your dinner, boy!”

  “I’m not hungry,” he growled.

  “I’ll take one,” Moody chimed in, leaning over to grab the bag of food.

  “Now, when we’ve all had time to relax, I’ll have to show you the traditional Romanian Horezu plates I found. Wonderful souvenirs. Astonishing craftsmanship. There’s one for each of us, and they’re all different. My, what a fantastic holiday this is turning out to be!”

  As Serene casually drove the truck out of town not a single soul paid them any attention. The entire New Brasov police force, now gathered in one location, had focused their efforts to push hard against the vampires, finally regaining control of the area surrounding Scarab’s apartment. A goodly portion of the Cosa Nosferatu had been killed, while a handful escaped into the night. Despite their best efforts, none of the creatures of the night were captured alive for questioning, taking the secrets of Lord Constantine’s plan with them into the eternal nothingness of oblivion.

  Chapter 14- War of Words

  His piercing brown eyes burned with unconcealed anger as he strode forward, the heavy, confident thud of his stride echoing through the dimly lit tunnel as he went. Those incompetent fools had made a complete debacle of their assignment. Not only had Necrosia escaped, but his men had managed to incite a full-scale battle on the streets of New Brasov. Already this shocking news had been plastered on every Visi-screen and newspaper around the globe, rendering impotent his carefully laid plans of secrecy. He’d gladly tear the hearts out of each and every one of those miserable imbeciles who failed him with his own bare hands and watch the last vestiges of life bleed out of their worthless souls. He’d do so eagerly and with relish, before all of his quavering servants to see, if it weren’t for the fact that the vast majority of those inept fools had already been killed by the New Brasov police and the sudden, catastrophic appearance of those two UEL scum. Pompous, one-eyed bloodhound. How the hell did he get wind of the operation? Everything was handled with extreme care from the moment of inception. Then, impossibly, it all went to hell in a matter of minutes. He clinched his fists, trembling with rage, and sneered contemptuously as he envisioned Hammett’s overconfident smile leering back at him tauntingly.

  Lord Constantine now came to a halt. He had reached the end of the tunnel, and before him was a large stone door, ancient beyond reckoning. Chiseled into the surface of the smooth stone were many intricate carvings, images of lords and ladies, dressed regally, feasting, drinking in excess, surrounded by opulence and beauty. Below these figures, supporting the weight of all upon their bent backs and shoulders, were a mass of tortured souls, naked, malnourished, a sea of entwined limbs, drowning in pain, sorrow and misery. Surrounding this image was some form of writing, cryptic characters from a tongue unknown to mortal man.

  Constantine looked upon the image, as he had done many times before, and breathed in deeply. He closed his eyes, and as he slowly exhaled the air from his lungs, his eyelids lifted again. Once more he was Lord Constantine, eyes confident and proud, posture perfectly erect with dignity and importance, breathing calm and controlled. Composed and ready to proceed, the vampire lifted his right hand to his mouth and bit the tip of his ring finger, upon which he wore the impressive ring of three triangular rubies. Near the center of the stone door lay a small depression, and there he pressed the bloody tip of his finger. A low, earthy grinding noise could be heard far below, and with the slightest rumble, the stone door opened.

  The vampire lord stepped through the doorway into a large, circular room. Spaced evenly around the hall’s perimeter were nine more doors similar to the one he had just walked through, to be used exclusively by the head of each of the governing vampire houses. Positioned between the various doors were many braziers, blazing hot and brightly illuminating the space. The domed ceiling rose more than one hundred feet above, with both the walls and ceiling imbued with vast mosaic murals depicting the history of their kind through the long millennia, beginning at the floor and winding around the room straight up to the apex. Additionally, positioned north, south, east and west were massive, marble statues half as tall as the room itself. These spectacular and imposing figures depicted two males and two females, each nude, and crafted to a level of awesome beauty and perfection which no member of the human race could have ever achieved. Each statue held something unique in its hands. For the northern statue there was a great sword and shield, while a mighty bow was possessed in the south. To the east was clutched a great book of wisdom, and in the west a dove was held tightly, the statue’s arms raised as if poised to set the creature free. Finally, in the very center of this spectacle sat a great circular table of stone, covered all around with the same lettering inscribed on the doors, and in the center of this wheel a wide triangular space, a crackling fire burned within. Nine vampire lords had already taken their seats around this ancient stone table, and each of them shot loathsome looks upon Constantine as he strode toward the single empty seat. He glared back at his peers with absolute poise, holding each individual’s gaze, impervious to their unconcealed scorn.

  “How very good of you to join us, Lord Constantine,” a fair woman said loudly. She wore a beautiful scarlet dress, and possessed striking red hair, intricately braided upon her head.

  “It is indeed, Lady Tepes,” he replied with a cool smile as he sat down.

  The group sat in silence for a time, turning their gazes from Constantine to one another, none seeming particularly willing to open discussion. Constantine smiled back at the other dignitaries, elbow on table, his chin resting lightly on the knuckles of his left hand, as though he were bored out of his wits.

  “We all know precisely why we have gathered here tonight,” a gray-haired vampire finally broke the silence, looking squarely into Constantine’s brilliant eyes. “I see no reason to delay our discussion with frivolous formalities or insincere pleasantries. So I ask you directly, Constantine, how do you explain your actions in New Brasov?”

  “As you said, my Lord Janco, this is not a formal assembly,” Constantine responded. “I am not on trial. Nor am I under any obligation to discuss the details of my own interests, which have no bearing on your own.”

  “Do you take us for fools, Constantine?” another male barked across the table. “Do you honestly expect us to buy into your façade of allegiance to the Cosa Nosferatu, wearing your empty smile and forcing us to swallow the hollow words you vomit up before this body, while you spin your own devious machinations behind your back?”

  “Those who speak with such unfounded accusations are likely to find their tongues severed from their mouths, be they lord or no, Vasile,” Constantine snarled back.

  “Peace! Because of your actions,” Lord Janco began, his voice calm and wise, “you have turned the eyes of the entire world upon us, and the repercussions of those actions could do much to hinder our primary efforts. You may, in fact, have incited the UEL pigs to take drastic measures, not to mention that your actions can only be described as…suspicious.”

  “Are you asking for an apology?” Constantine asked with a sinister grin. “Atonement? You shall have neither from me.”

  “I am asking for answers, Lord Constantine,” Janco replied. “As a body we deserve as much when your deeds affect all houses under the Cosa Nosferatu. I wonder why you have expended so much effort, sacrificed so many of your officers, in trying to acquire this insignificant Necrosia woman, who for all intents and purposes appears to be valueless. I wonder, too, why you have so deliberately kept your actions hidden from the other houses. If she is more than she appears to be, if those events in Eville were in fact of greater significance than what had been re
ported, certainly, we could have pooled our resources, houses united in this effort, and raised the odds of success significantly. Or maybe, whatever secret Necrosia has you intended to keep solely for House Constantine?”

  “What are you not telling us, Constantine?” Vasile growled. “What power has this daft woman stumbled upon?” Constantine merely gazed back at Vasile, his face emotionless, as if oblivious to the demands of the vampire lord.

  “Whatever the truth may be, your actions of late seem to reflect a determination to drive a wedge between our houses,” Lady Tepes stated calmly. “Do you honestly wish to bring us back to the dark ages when we warred amongst ourselves? If our houses had only formed the Cosa Nosferatu sooner, instead of squabbling over petty selfishness, our people would have taken their rightful place of rulers on this world centuries ago.”

  “Spare me your history lesson, Lady Tepes,” Constantine replied. “Unlike yourself, I fought in many of those battles you speak of, spilled the blood of each of your houses, and saw with my own eyes the coming of the great lords to this very place when our order was formed and our differences were set aside. Furthermore, the position that our race holds in this world has nothing to do with House Constantine.”

  “This arguing is pointless,” another interjected with frustration. “The purpose of our gathering was to obtain answers, not incite hostilities and pick at old wounds.”

  “Agreed,” Janco added. “I ask you again, Constantine, what is your purpose regarding Necrosia?”

  Constantine sat for a moment, contemplating, before finally answering. “The woman may be of use to us…”

  “To House Constantine, you mean,” Vasile interrupted.

  “For each of our houses,” Constantine stressed. “However, until I have Necrosia in hand to validate my information, I shall not go into details. Suffice to say, should she prove of use to the Cosa Nosferatu, I shall share her secrets, if they exist, with all houses. In the meantime, I do not ask anyone’s permission to proceed with my own affairs. That is all I have to say on the subject.” All looked upon Constantine with frustration, obviously dissatisfied with his answers, but kept their mouths shut.

  “Since the purpose of obtaining Necrosia is for the benefit of all houses (though how that may be you so obstinately refuse to share),” Vasile began after a long silence, a shrewd glimmer in his eyes, “her capture is therefore not the sole entitlement of House Constantine. Each of us should contribute to the search. For while your people may not be competent enough to accomplish this simple task, another house may have much greater success. Or am I again mistaken, Lord Constantine?”

  “Certainly, each house must do what they believe to be best,” Constantine replied with a stoic face, though his eyes burned like the very fires of hell.

  “Very well,” Janco said, “using extreme discretion, each house may choose to acquire Necrosia through whichever means they deem fit, and shall bring her here directly, before all ten lords. Under our custody there are to be no secrets amongst us regarding this woman. Then, should she prove valuable to our cause, we shall decide as a body how to proceed. Are we all in agreement?” All of the vampires nodded in approval except for Constantine, who continued to stare into Vasile’s eyes. “Are we in agreement?” Janco pressed.

  “But of course,” Constantine answered with sincerity. “May the Cosa Nosferatu usher our kind to their rightful place.”

  “Thus is the will of the Cosa Nosferatu established. This assembly is adjourned,” Janco declared.

  The vampire lords said nothing with the conclusion of the gathering, but cast suspicious eyes amongst themselves as they slowly rose from their seats and proceeded toward their exit doors. Constantine and Vasile remained seated for a time, however, silent, eyes locked in volatile stares as potent and vicious as if they were in the process of stabbing each other through the heart with poisoned blades. Constantine was the first to finally break away, standing up, a smug look on his face, and with a mocking bow of his head toward his opponent, turned around and strode to his exit.

  Constantine passed through the stone door without looking back even once, and after the door shut securely behind him he continued to walk down the tunnel confidently for several yards. But suddenly his assured face melted away to absolute rage, and with a roar he thrust his fist violently into the rocky wall. Slowly he pulled his clenched fist out of the depression, nearly six inches deep into the stone, and watched with malice as the blood trickled from his knuckles onto the cold floor. His chest swelled in and out as though it were about to burst, and he ground his teeth loudly as he stared at the crimson liquid forming droplets next to his fine shoes. After a while he gradually regained his composure, renewed his forward progress, and as he faded into absolute darkness while the tunnel snaked forward, he muttered loudly, echoing against the hard stone, “Where the hell is Luminita?”

  Chapter 15- Tiberius

  Alex’s mind blissfully drifted through the extraordinary, incomprehensible realm of fantasy. He was having one of those rare, incredibly peaceful dreams, the specifics of which can never be entirely recollected once awakened, but that leave one content and refreshed after returning to the uncompromisingly rigid plane of reality. How long he might have flitted idly about in that infinite pool of serenity would never be known, however, as he was violently wrenched away from this place of happiness as his head slammed hard against the truck’s dashboard, the nerve wracking sound of squealing tires and the obnoxious blaring of a high pitched horn slapping him like a bucket of ice water.

  “Damn fool creatures!” Serene yelled from behind the steering wheel. “Get the hell off the highway! I swear, these brainless buggers are one and all suicidal! A pox on your entire genus!” she added in a loud voice with a shaken fist.

  “What’s going on?!” Alex asked with a start, anxious and confused.

  “This region is infested with a particularly dim-witted subspecies of marmot. The infernal beasts are intent on darting back and forth across the road with wild abandon and no discernible purpose. On top of all this they made me spill my drink, damn it. Several mouthfuls are now wasted on the floorboard.” Wedged tightly between her knees was an opened bottle of Sinner’s Muse, now three-quarters empty.

  “Serene! Have you been drinking all this time?”

  “But of course, darling. Driving is thirsty work.”

  “Oh my God, Serene…you…you…have you no shame?” he stammered, hands gesturing wildly. “You could’ve…” he continued, reaching over to grab the bottle, only to feel the sting as Serene swatted his hand away like the lashing of a whip.

  “Now, now, my love,” Serene turned and patted Alex on the cheek before he could get any words past his enraged lips, “everyone is safe and sound, and my mind is as sharp and alert as ever.”

  Alex inhaled deeply and turned away from the inventor, forcibly stomping down the outburst eager to bellow out of him, knowing full well that nothing he said or did would have the slightest effect on the madwoman. Looking to his right he saw Moody, head slumped against the passenger window, mouth gaping wide, snoring softly, locked in a deep, contented sleep. Outside the highway stretched on infinitely before them under the morning light. The scenery was much the same as he had seen ever since leaving Eville: a harsh desert environment devoid of green and far removed from any signs of civilization. “Well,” Alex began, forcing his voice to sound optimistic, “we have our forged identifications and we’re still in one piece. We headed to Europe now? Like you mentioned before?”

  “Yes, that is still my plan. However, I have decided to make a small detour beforehand. I meditated a great deal last night on the events which transpired in New Brasov. This new complication with the Cosa Nosferatu is indeed troubling, and most unexpected. I fear we may need a bit more protection, a few cards tucked up our sleeve to help level the playing field, as it were.”

  “And how do you intend to do that?”

  “By turning to an old friend for assistance. Tiberius Swinefeld. Th
e two of us go way back…to my university days, in fact. Tiberius is a good man, and a damn fine inventor in his own right.”

  “And you’re certain he can be trusted?”

  “I’d bet your life on it.” Serene nodded confidently, reaching down for her bottle of Sinner’s Muse, taking a deep gulp, and sighing in delight.

  “My life? Don’t you mean your life?”

  “All the same, dear boy. You know what I mean. Just you relax. We have a few hours yet to go.”

  Serene continued to drive for several hours, and as the miles rolled into the distance the scenery became less barren and more interesting to look at. While far from hilly, the land began to rise and fall gently, covered in hardy, tall grasses and patches of simple yellow and purple flowers. Lazily flowing streams appeared here and there, brown ducks waddling into the dirty water, pecking about the reeds. Short, spine-covered cactus sprouted up, while the occasional gnarled, weepy mesquite tree slumped under the blazing sun.

  “It should be coming up any minute now,” Moody said, bringing an end to a prolonged period of silence.

  “I know,” Serene replied, squinting into the windshield. The pickup slowed dramatically, and the inventor sat up in her seat, scrutinizing carefully the ground on the right side of the road.

  “What are we looking for?” Alex asked, leaning forward, his curiosity greatly piqued.

  “Move your head, fool,” Moody growled, pushing him back into the seat, leaning her chest against the dash. “There! There I see it!” the hunchback exclaimed. “Slow down, you dummy!”

  “I heard you quite well the first time, thank you very much,” Serene remarked with heat. She was sweaty and tired, like everyone else in the truck, ready to exit the vehicle hours ago, and more than a little grumpy.

  “Stop!” Moody grunted, opening the passenger door and hopping out of the truck before it came to a complete halt. Alex and Serene filed out behind her, eagerly stretching their legs, reaching their arms high into the sky, and leaning from side to side after such a lengthy time in uncomfortably cramped conditions. Moody stomped her feet, twisting her neck back and forth, as she walked several yards off the road toward a large brown stone lying inconspicuously in a patch of browned grass.