by Jemma Chase
“Do you think there are animals or people in here making those noises?” Susan asked.
“No idea,” I lied. Well, I knew they weren’t animals as she’d know them. Or people, either.
The third time that happened we both started to trot. We rounded a corner to find another intersection. “Is this the twentieth?” Susan asked.
“I’ve lost count. My turn to pick?”
“Yeah.”
“Left.” We turned, still at a trot. But we both pulled up and stopped dead. “A door?”
“Maybe it’s an exit,” Susan said excitedly. She grabbed the handle.
“Wait a second –”
Scrabbling and scratching interrupted me. It was loud, insistent, desperate. Susan let go of the door and backed away. The scratching continued and increased.
“Do we go in?” Susan asked in a whisper. The scrabbling became frenzied. And the door moved just a bit.
“No way.” I had a good guess what was behind this door, and it wasn’t something anyone would want to meet. There were plenty of ways to lose your promotion, and being ripped apart by an unnamed monster from the depths was certainly one of them. I grabbed her hand. “We run.”
We turned and ran. I could have sworn I heard a door slam behind us. I hoped it was slamming closed, not open, but wasn’t willing to bet on that kind of luck. We sped up, flinging ourselves down paths willy-nilly. I heard scratching for a long time.
The sound finally died down as we rounded another corner and hit a dead end. We spun and ran back, choosing a different path. Dead end again.
Well, dead end with a door. This time, Susan only touched the knob, she didn’t turn it. Scratching ensued. We turned and ran like hell.
I lost count of how many turns we made, how many dead ends we hit, and how many doors we reached that all had the same creepy scratching coming from behind them – but it was a lot.
We ran on, and this time we were rewarded with a long hall. It had a lot of paths jutting off it, but we ran to the end. The hall turned to the right, and we went with it. To find another dead end.
“Now what?” Susan asked.
I leaned against the wall to catch my breath. “Now we figure out how to get out of here without going near any of those doors ever again.”
“Three paces down, then we turn right.” Susan bit her lip. “I think.”
The hall had turned out to be a decent choice. Susan had been able to identify where we were because of it, and now we were trying to get out of this section as fast as we could without doing any more blind panic runs that would lead us to scary doors with scarier sounds coming from behind them.
“It’s okay,” I replied. “At least we’re away from those doors and those awful noises. Whatever they were.”
“It sounded like badgers,” she said. “At least, some of them did.”
“Badgers? I thought they all sounded like claws scrabbling against the walls. Long, sharp and nasty claws.”
“Some sounded like badgers to me,” Susan replied, as we turned walked two more paces and faced another dead end. “Sorry,” she said miserably. “I really thought I’d counted right.”
“The clawing would’ve made anyone mess up. Let’s face it, that you even have a guess as to where we are after the last section we were in is a credit to your brains and map-reading skills and nothing else.”
“Thanks. I’d feel a whole lot smarter if I could get us out of here.”
I looked around. The walls weren’t any lower, still high enough that we couldn’t see the ceiling clearly. “Any hidden doors?” Not that the doors around here, hidden or otherwise, sounded like a good bet.
Susan tapped. “Nothing I can detect. Matt, how are we going to get out of here?”
“The Guide said that if we worked at it, we’d find our way.”
“What a great vacation.” Susan sounded on the verge of tears. “We’ve been in here for days.” We hadn’t been, not in reality, but I had to admit it felt like it by now.
I shrugged. “I thought it was weird, but you know, when the boss sends you on an all-expenses paid vacation, you don’t argue.”
“Guess we should have.”
“Let’s go back and see if we can make any sort of progress.”
We retraced our steps. “Okay, let’s go to the left here,” Susan said with sudden authority. I thought I saw something small and white fluttering up ahead. She headed right toward it. She was moving fast, almost as fast as she’d been when we’d been running away from the whatevers behind the doors, and I had to trot to keep up with her.
Susan reached another intersection, turned right without seeming to think about it, left at the next three intersections, then right again. I could see the fluttering thing just ahead of us the whole way. I was fairly sure she was following it. I chose not to mention that the fluttering thing hadn’t exactly helped us the last time we’d seen it because, well, maybe it had and I didn’t realize it.
We walked through an archway and were in a large garden. Lots of flowers, shrubs and trees lined the far edges, creating their own kind of walls. They were grown so thick there was no way to get through. There was plenty of space in here, though – the only overgrowth was along the edges.
There was a small hillock in the very center of all of this, and on it stood one tree. The tree had fruit hanging from its limbs and the white fluttering thing flying around it. There was a small wrought iron fence around the base of the hillock. The fence was clearly there for show – a child could climb over it easily.
This was the moment of truth. Susan was smart, beautiful, and loved me. If I refused the promotion right now, the boss would understand. I’d be up for another promotion soon enough, after all, because I really was that good. The only rule about promotions the boss had, other than surviving the Test of Worth, was that you couldn’t refuse promotion three times in a row. This was the first promotion I’d even considered passing on in a very long time, so I definitely had the leeway.
We’d have to actually get out of the maze unscathed, but that was a doable thing. I knew for a fact that Helen ran the maze all the time, simply because she enjoyed the challenge. She was legendary, even among the boss’ employees, and she remained one of his favorites, so my following suit wouldn’t go against me in any way.
These facts made my decision harder.
I took Susan’s hand. “Another dead end. Let’s try it again.”
Susan shook her head, not looking at me. “No. I want to see that tree.” She pulled her hand out of mine and moved closer to it, then crawled over the fence.
“Not a good idea. Remember the last time a woman messed around with a tree?”
“Yeah. They got kicked out of a garden.” She turned to me, and her eyes looked wild. “I want out of here, Matt. I want out now.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too. And I want us to get out of here and go home.” With that, she reached up and grabbed a piece of fruit hanging from the laden branches, twisted its stem, pulled it off and bit into it, all within three seconds.
I watched her chew and swallow. She was about to take another bite when her eyes bulged. I could tell she couldn’t breathe, and it wasn’t long before her face actually turned blue, and then black. She keeled over, right there.
The apple fell from her hand and rolled next to the fence. I saw two others just like it. Not three others, though.
I wondered who’d chosen to stay with their current position instead of choosing advancement. Maybe Helen. She’d been around a long time, after all, even before she launched those thousand ships, and could easily wait for another opportunity. And perhaps William had listened to her when they’d reached the Garden. Or maybe Helen had insisted.
I was certain Johnny was ready to trade up, regardless of career advancement – his reputation wasn’t built on being the best lover of one woman, but every woman. Plus he was going to inherit a fortune. Win-win for the greatest lover in the world all the way around.
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Michael, well, when everything you touch turns to gold, you can get as many sweet young things as you want. Oriana was undoubtedly gone.
I heard a step behind me. “Would you like to take your bow? The audience loved your performance.”
“Not really, if it’s all the same to you.” I didn’t turn around. Some things you just didn’t do. Maybe Helen looked right at the boss’ face, but I wasn’t that sort of risk-taker.
“Of course. I never force anyone to do something they don’t want to. I thought for a few moments that you might have chosen to stay at your current position. For a little longer at any rate.”
“I considered it.”
“But you didn’t press for it.”
“No.”
No, I hadn’t pressed for it. The decision I’d made weeks ago, when I’d been advised it was promotion time, was still the right one. If Susan had listened to me and left the Garden, then I’d have willingly changed my mind. But she’d wanted out, and now, she was out. One way or another.
“No regrets?”
I thought about it. It was never wise to not think about your answer when speaking with the boss. “Not really, no. I loved her, we had a good life together. But nothing lasts forever.”
“Except for a select few, that is true.”
“That’s why we work for you. May I go now?” I asked politely.
“Yes. You have fulfilled your part of the bargain. One beloved soul given to me in exchange for wealth, health and longevity.”
“Old School divorce, New School benefits. Adam should have paid better attention to the snake. Thanks, boss.”
He chuckled. “Thank you, Methuselah.”
The trees at the far end of the garden moved apart. I could see my car in the parking lot. I walked to it without looking back.
After all, finding another wife is easy, but living forever takes real planning.
THE DISCIPLE
I wasn’t always alone.
Before this time I had two families, one related by blood, the other by purpose. But they’re all gone now. I used to hope I’d see them again, in Heaven, if nowhere else, but now I know that will never be.
Of course, my calling has always been a lonely one. Sent back in time to stop the most virulent plague to ever hit mankind. Sent back in time to prevent the horrifying future, but never to return to it.
Seven of us were sent back to the Middle Ages, trained to adapt and survive in a world more different from our own than a twenty-fourth century mind could imagine. But for all the changes, some things were the same.
In the mid-twenty-fourth century, the world came to the realization all those vampire “myths” were, in fact, real. As real as death, but less kind.
I don’t know how the vampires began, whether the church legends are true, or if the Romanian ones are more accurate. All I know is that vampires originally drank the blood of animals and their own family groups, but as time and technology progressed they learned how to live off of others not blood-related.
Human blood is tastier than animal, apparently, and by the time I was born, vampires were the biggest threat humanity had ever seen.
They were the biggest threat my family would ever know.
I was seventeen when my family was captured by a ’Pire gang. Not to be turned – for food. I was forced to watch, held and kept helpless by a laughing vampire. “Stop struggling,” he whispered in my ear. “Behave, and maybe I’ll turn you, or keep you as my thrall.”
The leaders drank their fill, then tossed my parents to the rest of their gang. They drained my mother and father alive. When I sleep, I can still hear their screams, the last sounds my parents ever made.
Then they tasted my grandparents. “Not fresh,” the male leader sneered as he crushed my grandmother’s head between his hands. His mate did the same with my grandfather.
They turned on me and my little sister next.
“These will be sweet,” the leader’s mate said.
“Sissy,” Violet said as tears streamed down her face. “I’m scared.”
“Let my sister go,” I begged, even though I knew it was pointless. “You can do whatever you want with me, but let her live.”
The ’Pire holding me laughed. “We can do whatever we want with you anyway.”
The ’Pire leader grabbed Violet. He smiled at me. “I think we’ll keep this little one. She can feed off of her brave big sister as her first meal.” With that, he sank his fangs into Violet’s neck.
Violet’s skin drained of color until she looked like marble. But her chest still moved, so I knew she was breathing. “Fight it,” I called to her. “Don’t let them turn you.”
The vampire holding me laughed and whispered in my ear again. “There is no fighting it. Once bitten, you’re ours for eternity.”
“You like that one?” the leader’s mate asked my vampire.
“I do.”
She shrugged. “Then turn her. We can use new pets.”
I struggled, but I had no real hope. I prayed to a God I wasn’t sure cared about anyone on Earth any more – the last act of the desperate and doomed.
God listened.
The door slammed open and my saviors burst in. The Order, the only ones brave enough to fight back against the ’Pires, ran in. Their holy symbols jingled, a beautiful sound, as they sprayed holy water and golden bullets out of their machine guns.
The ’Pires dropped Violet and me to face the real threat. I crawled to her and cradled her in my arms. “Hang on, baby girl,” I whispered. “Don’t leave Sissy all alone.”
Her eyes fluttered open. “So cold.”
“I know.” I hugged her to me as a big man picked us both up and carried us away from the carnage. I watched The Order kill every ’Pire. When I’m sad, I close my eyes, and I can still hear their screams, the most beautiful sound in the world.
Three of the women doused all the remains with gasoline – my family’s and the ’Pires’ alike – and lit the bodies with a blowtorch. My last view of my family was this obscene funeral pyre.
I was saved, but Violet wasn’t so lucky. The vampire’s bite had infected her remaining blood. We watched, back at the safe house, as she began to change.
She lay on a wooden table, bound at the waist. She remained pale, dead-looking. She was still breathing, but it was shallow. Her eyes opened and they weren’t human eyes any more. The pupils were too large and the look in them was too bestial.
“Can’t she fight it? Can’t we stop it somehow?” I was begging and again I knew it was fruitless.
Armand, the Head of The Order, shook his head sadly. “I’ve only heard of a few over the ages who could fight the infection. It’s too late.” He was a big, muscular man, with chocolate skin, wild curly hair, and a full beard. I saw sorrow in his kind, brown eyes and knew he was telling the truth. With that confirmation came the knowledge of what had to be done, what I had to do.
Violet looked at me and smiled. “Come give baby girl a hug.” Her voice was wrong – too deep, too seductive.
I picked up a golden stake and went to her. But not too close. “I’m here.”
Violet smiled wider. Her eyeteeth elongated. “Come give baby girl a hug,” she said more strongly.
“I love you,” I said quietly.
She lunged towards me, mouth opened, fangs gleaming. I’d been expecting it. I slammed the stake into her heart, with so much strength it forced her back and pinned her to the table, like an obscene butterfly I’d collected.
I knew without asking that I hadn’t had to be the one who did this. One of the others would have exterminated the threat without issue. One of the others would have taken the last of my little sister’s life. But my sister was already gone, and the only way to save her was to kill her.
“Goodbye, Violet.” I refused to cry, though I wanted to.
Her eyes changed, just before death. “Bye, Sissy,” she said in her own voice. She smiled, then her face froze in the way the faces of the dead do. I try
not to see that image every time I close my eyes. I never succeed.
I carried her body into the sunlight. Armand poured holy water over her. I held Violet’s body as it burned away and turned to ash, until there was nothing left of my little sister, my family, but dust.
Armand put his hand onto my shoulder. “You’ll meet her again. In Heaven, if nowhere else.”
“Not in Hell?”
“No. You’ve already known her in Hell, because Hell is here.”
I looked up at him. “I want to destroy them. I want to make this world like it was, not like it is.”
Armand nodded, and led me back inside.
I was a member of The Order before they asked me to join.
I was indoctrinated in The Order, taught and trained. I had a new family and we were joined by a different kind of blood – not blood shared but blood spilled.
For two years I learned, studied, worked, and sweated. I wasn’t allowed on raids in the first year, but was able to assist in the second. By the end of my apprenticeship, I was ready to join the elite squads.
Killing vampires wasn’t what it had been in the old days. Through the years they’d learned how to counter most of the things that had held them in check in the past – sunlight, silver-edged weapons, wooden stakes through the heart. But the Order had done significant research and discovered the keys to confidently eliminating them.
’Pires were indeed affected by religious symbols, but the Star of David was more effective than the Cross of Christ. Combined they were powerful enough to stun and hold any ’Pire near them, whether the vampire could see them or not. Holy water still worked, and could be blessed by any member of any clergy, as long as that person truly believed in their religion. Holy water made a wonderful defensive weapon and worked like acid, at least until the ’Pire regenerated.
What killed them, though, was a combination of metals and woods – iron, silver, ash, and oak – covered in gold. Vampires, it turned out, coveted gold. Any race that lives forever would be drawn to something that never loses its value over time, and through the centuries, this love of gold had become their weakness.