Jack Kursed

by Glenn Bullion

Year: 1917

  Monterrey, South Carolina. A small, rural town, about a three-day ride from Columbia. Monterrey was trying its best to resist the changes of the early twentieth century. Only the wealthier people in town had automobiles, and the dirt roads ruined many tires. Life was very simple. It was a great place for Victoria and John to live.

  Victoria hadn't made many friends over the centuries. Her rare human friends all suffered from the same thing. Aging. She was trapped in the body of a thirty-year-old, and that made mortal friendships hard to maintain.

  She had other friends over time. A werewolf here, vampire there. But supernatural beings tended to stay away from one another, out of fear of attracting unwanted attention.

  It was a small miracle John and she became as close as they were.

  Long ago he stopped thinking of his condition as an enchantment from an infatuated witch. John viewed it as a curse, a suffering. It had changed him over the past century, despite Victoria's best efforts to the contrary.

  John cared for no one, especially mortals. Victoria was honored to be the one person he called a friend, and enjoyed the time they spent together.

  Even if he did go a little crazy sometimes.

  She paced on top of the ice house. The sun had only been down an hour. There was plenty of time, but she felt rushed. The target went by the name of Annie Fritz. Victoria paid good money to have her every move recorded for the past week. By day Annie blended in very well with the mortal world. Gave candy to the kids after school at her store, batted her eyes at the handsome men as she stroked her cat's furr, laughed with customers as the kids chased the ice trucks.

  But Annie was another evil supernatural creature that needed to be put down.

  Victoria stared into her binoculars one more time. Annie continued to wander the cemetery with a shovel, staring at a notepad she carried with her. A policeman walking a beat stopped to question her, but Annie must have had a golden tongue. Whatever she said brought a smile to his face, and he left her in peace. She withdrew deeper into the cemetery after that.

  Annie started to dig.

  "Where are you, John?" Victoria whispered.

  She thought about confronting Annie and handling the problem herself when she heard a horse trotting. Its gait was buried in the sounds of conversation on the road and the few cars on the road.

  Looking down the road, she saw John approaching. He tied his horse outside the ice house and Victoria lost sight of him as he went inside. A few minutes later he was opening the roof hatch and giving her a subdued smile.

  John was never very good at mixing with mortals. He was wealthy, and could buy whatever he wanted, but refused to dress appropriately for the age. Most human men wore hats in public, a tradition John ignored. The transition from horses to automobiles was underway, but John refused to buy a car.

  Victoria hadn't seen him in a few weeks. She and John didn't grow older, and they wore their age differently than mortals. The way they moved, the expressions they kept. John smiled and laughed often, but there was always a darkness behind his eyes, an anger at being alive longer than nature intended.

  It didn't help that John hadn't slept since his curse. He'd been alive since that night with Angela without a second of sleep.

  "You're late."

  "I'm sorry. My horse got spooked by the noises these damn autobmobiles make."

  Victoria laughed. "With all the money you have, I'm surprised you haven't bought one already."

  "I hate technology."

  Victoria kissed the cheek of the man she thought of as family. John gave her shoulder a squeeze.

  "I've missed you," she said.

  "Same here. We need to spend more time together. Go to a few movies."

  "The last time we went to a movie, you attacked the couple in front of us."

  "I didn't attack them. And it was only the man. He didn't know how to treat his lady, so I taught him."

  "I paid his hospital bill."

  "Anyway," he said. "What are we hunting tonight? Your message was vague, as always. An orphaned vampire? A goblin?"

  "Look," she said, handing him the binoculars. "At the back of the cemetery. You can barely see her now, but she's there."

  John was quiet a moment as he peered through the binoculars.

  "Right handed. No more than one-hundred twenty pounds. She's carrying something under that coat of hers. Maybe a bag, on her left shoulder. She doesn't move with the grace of a vampire, or a werewolf for that matter."

  Victoria shook her head. "It amazes me how you do that."

  "When you've been awake as long as I have, you'll do anything to keep your brain from getting bored. Who is she, and why is she digging up a grave?"

  "Her name is Annie. Why she's digging a grave, I don't know. But it might have something to do with her being a witch."

  John lowered the binoculars and looked at Victoria. His expression warmed her heart, one of hope. It was something John didn't show much of.

  "A witch? In our town? Are you sure?"

  "She has a cauldron in the basement of her shop, and she's been working on something."

  John handed back the binoculars and paced. Victoria peered through them again to see Annie still digging up a grave.

  The last time they encountered a witch was nearly forty years ago, near the border to Canada. She wasn't a full-blooded witch, but had some knowledge. It was that witch who revealed the cure to John's condition could only be concocted by a full-blood, a witch whose parents were witches.

  Like Angela.

  "Do you think...maybe she's a full-blood?"

  "I honestly don't know. She's definitely making something strong. You wouldn't believe the things she's been throwing in that cauldron."

  "This could really be it. The end of my curse."

  Victoria simply smiled at her friend. He reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder.

  "Victoria, if this is my last night alive, my will is locked in the chest at the foot of my bed. And my lawyer has a copy. Most everything I've left to you."

  Her smile faded. "Last night? You always thought removing the curse would just make you mortal."

  "Yes, and I'm over a hundred years old. I might just die."

  The vampire said nothing, holding in all her emotions.

  "Ah, sleep. Beautiful sleep," John said, a tear running down his cheek. "Maybe I'll finally be able to rest."

  "You mean you might die."

  "Same thing."

  Victoria looked through the binoculars. Annie had finished digging up a grave and stood over the open casket. She pulled a sack from under her coat and fished out several glass vials. Laughing and dancing, she poured one vial into the open casket, and then another.

  "Stay grounded, John. We still need to stop what she's doing. Then you can talk to her all you want-"

  Victoria's voice trailed off as words eluded her. She had seen the terrible things a witch could do. From what her older acquaintances told her, a witch was responsible for the Black Death that ravaged Europe in the fourteenth century. Simply watching them chant and work over their cauldrons chilled Victoria.

  She had never seen what Annie was doing two blocks away.

  "What?" John asked. "What do you see?"

  She passed the binoculars and remained silent why John studied the scene. Her hands shook as emotions poured through her.

  The supernatural world was a very dangerous place. But that world was governed by rules. Vampires could not be exposed to the sun. Silver was the weakness of a werewolf. Ghosts had their own plane of existence, and could not cross over into the living world.

  With every witch Victoria encountered, it seemed they didn't have rules.

  "Is she-"

  "Yes," Victoria interrupted. "She's raising the dead."

  "Wow. That's damn impressive."

  Victoria ripped the binoculars away from John and peered once more. The corpse crawled out of its grave and rose to its feet, like a toddler standing for the first time. Anni
e held her hand out to it while reading from a book.

  "Impressive?" she asked angrily. "First immortality. Now this. Witches can't be allowed to live."

  "This one will be, until after my curse is lifted. Then you can kill her as many times as you want." John laughed shortly and clasped his hands together. "Victoria, she's a full-blood. I can feel it."

  Victoria nearly set the binoculars down until she noticed Annie walking away from the stumbling corpse. Annie stopped and poured different mixtures on other graves. Before moving on, she drew a circle with what looked like salt on the ground. She placed her hand on the ground, and the soil inside the salt circle vanished. Victoria couldn't believe her eyes as more coffins were exposed to the night.

  The coffins opened.

  "Oh no," Victoria said.

  "What's the matter?"

  She passed the binoculars as she checked her gear. Two knives, a few bags of blood, and most importantly, herself. John laughed and continued to look at Annie as Victoria strapped a knife to her calf.

  "Aww. Poor little police officer."

  "What? What's going on?"

  Victoria snatched the binoculars. Her breath caught in her chest as she watched the shambling corpses leave the cemetery in force. Two of them tackled the policeman she'd seen before walking his beat. They tore into him like hungry werewolves. The few people on the road scattered as panic broke out. Annie's army of reanimated dead grabbed a woman on the corner and a homeless man near an alley.

  Victoria's decision to wait for John cost lives.

  John only laughed.

  "This is funny to you?" Victoria asked.

  "Well, a little. One little old witch...destroying a town. It’s amusing."

  "I forgot how much you like destroying towns," she said, strapping the second knife to her back.

  John looked down at her, his laugh cutting off. He nearly snarled at the one subject that caused tension between the two of them.

  "I saw you dig your fangs into a few people that night, too. You know they deserved it."

  "Well, these people don't."

  She leaned over the roof and stared down below. People were emptying their houses at the commotion. Men fired at the ghouls, but that didn't stop them. A few men and women tried to pile into the old church. The corpses were right behind them, and Victoria's sensitive ears could hear the massacre.

  Victoria hadn't believed a witch could cause so much death so quickly. She should have killed Annie any other time during the week. But she'd waited. She waited for Annie to leave her store, and for John to arrive. This was supposed to be a gift for him, possibly having his curse lifted.

  She was a fool.

  Looking up, she saw Annie sliding into a Ford Model T Sedan, one road over. A woman tried to get in with her, but two ghouls grabbed her and pinned her to the ground.

  "I'll go after the witch. You help as many people as you can."

  "That won't work."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I don't care about these people."

  "John-"

  "They could all die in the next five minutes, and I wouldn't care. I don't hunt with you because I like people. I do it because you need my help, and you're my friend. But Victoria, I need this witch."

  She grabbed him by the shoulders. "Then let me get her for you. These ghouls can't hurt you, but they can hurt me. We should stick with our strengths."

  Victoria was anxious as John hesitated. This wasn't the time for delay. People were dying.

  "Please. Please, don't kill her."

  She nodded, and climbed onto the edge of the roof, John right behind her. They jumped together. The alley behind the ice house rushed up at them. Victoria landed nimbly on her feet. John didn't have her agility, and didn't feel like breaking his legs, only to watch them heal. He twisted in mid-air, hit the ground back first, and jumped to his feet. She winced at the sound of his skull smacking the pavement.

  Victoria gave him a nod. John had his issues, and they fought at times. But he was immortal in the truest sense of the word. He had no weaknesses, felt no pain. Even hot and cold was different for him. He was strong and loyal. She couldn't ask for a better partner and friend.

  "Be careful," he said.

  She nearly returned the comment, but there was no need. John watched as she ran down the alley out of sight.

  *****

  John marveled at the chaos around him. Terror was an amazing emotion. People trampled over each other to get to their automobiles and horses. Guns were fired, and not always with the best of aim. Men and women fell around him as people shooting blindly missed their targets.

  He supposed he couldn't blame them. There were walking corpses trying to eat them, after all.

  An elderly woman screamed as a ghoul attacked her. She fell in between two parked cars and held out her handbag to defend herself.

  He almost felt foolish as he rushed to help her. She only had a few years left in life anyway. But he promised Victoria he'd help.

  He grabbed the ghoul by the hair. A few clumps of skin and hair came out in John's hand as he yanked the ghoul's head back, but he still had enough of a grip to pull it off the elderly woman.

  "Get off of her!"

  He stomped the ghoul's head until its face was barely recognizable. It was hard to believe his eyes as he studied the ghoul. He knew what they were. Reanimated corpses under the control of a witch. But to see one up close sent a chill up his spine.

  The ghoul was dressed in expensive upper-class clothes, but they were filthy and torn in a few places. Most of its skin was intact, but it had a greyish tone. John had nearly destroyed the right side of its face, but the left was in good shape. It revealed a sunken face and faded eye.

  John had seen many corpses over the years, but to see them move was disturbing.

  He'd nearly forgotten about the old woman. Searching the road, he saw her moving as fast as she could with a horde of people down the sidewalk. No thank you, no checking on him to see if he was okay.

  "You're quite welcome, madam."

  A moan at his feet caught his attention. The ghoul was still alive.

  "Can you understand me?" John asked.

  The ghoul made no intelligent sound. It only wailed and rolled on its stomach, crawling for John. He realized this night was very important. Victoria and he had fought many creatures, but never walking corpses. Any information gathered would be valuable.

  But he also realized that after a century of no rest the peace he sought was within his grasp.

  An automobile swerved on the road ahead and crashed into a barber shop. John rolled his eyes and sprinted for the vehicle. Pulling the driver from behind the wheel, he helped steady him by his shoulders.

  "Are you okay?"

  The man only nodded, looking around with panic in his eyes.

  "Listen to me. Head for the movie theater. Secure it, lock all the doors, whatever you have to do. Get as many people in there as you can."

  The man was still quiet. For a moment John thought he was wasting his time. The man glanced around him nervously, and John knew when a human was worried for his life the last thing he thought about was other people.

  John raised an eyebrow in surprise when the man agreed.

  "That's a good idea."

  Victoria once told him humans liked to hear their own voices.

  "What's your name?"

  "Charles."

  "Okay, Charles. You can do this. Get moving. I'll find more people and send them your way."

  Charles grabbed John's shoulder and nodded. He ran down the block, shouting to anyone that would listen to follow him.

  John jogged in the opposite direction. He counted twenty-six ghouls when they left the graveyard. He wasn't sure how many humans lived in town. Maybe a little over one hundred. That's why Victoria and he picked Monterrey. Fewer humans always made things easier.

  The ghouls definitely had a chance at destroying Monterrey.

  He was halfway down the road when he saw
a horse lying on the ground. Three ghouls were scattered along its body, on their knees. John winced at the sight, the sound of feasting on raw flesh.

  "Help me! Please!"

  He looked up at the voice. A woman was leaning out of a second-story window, firing a gun at an unseen attacker behind her. She caught John's eye.

  "Please!" she shouted to him. "Get me out of here!"

  It was Helen, the most beautiful woman in town, with the exception of Victoria. He looked at the ghouls still feasting on the horse, not twenty feet away.

  "Keep quiet, or you'll stir them up."

  "There are men outside the door!" she said, lowering her voice.

  "Men? Not monsters?"

  "Men. George Tate and his friends."

  John shook his head. He tried to stay out of social gossip. He tried to stay out of anything social. But it was a small town. Everyone knew of George's lust for Helen. Apparently George decided his lust was more important than the corpses wandering through town.

  "Jump out the window."

  Helen looked at John with wide eyes as she fired once more.

  "Are you crazy?"

  "Just jump out the damn window. Jump right at me."

  Helen hesitated, but stuck one leg out, and then the other. She took a deep breath before pushing herself away from the window. John held out his arms, knowing this wouldn't be fun. He caught her and fell backwards, his body smacking the ground. She rolled off of him and tried to catch her breath, holding her elbow. She looked up in shock when John made it to his feet before her, and offered a hand to help her.

  "Are you alright?" Helen asked. "I thought I crushed you."

  "I'm fine. Go to the movie theater. We'll wall in there."

  "What are these things?"

  "Maybe you'll find out when one of them takes a bite out of your throat. Now, shut up and get to the movie theater!"

  Helen nodded and ran. She joined a group of men moving together down the road.

  "Helen! Where you going, beautiful?"

  John looked up at the new voice. George Tate leaned out the window and stared after Helen. His low-life friends Tom and Frank were on either side of him.

  "We just wanted to spend time with you while the world goes to shit!"

  John didn't know what the final death tally would be at the end of the day. He did know that George and his friends would be in those statistics.