The Disciple and Other Stories of the Paranormal

by Jemma Chase

  I left the office, took a deep breath, and steeled myself for the journey upward. The last rays of the sun slipped away and darkness fell. I was sure now the plague had not only been here, but was still around, waiting, hoping I’d leave or at least make a mistake.

  I planned to do neither.

  I reached the second story landing and instinct told me no one was here. This floor housed the dormitory. I went cautiously and quietly from room to room, but found no one and nothing amiss. Dust everywhere, but it still didn’t make me sneeze.

  The only thing I achieved by searching this level was the certainty it was deserted and the minor reassurance it was unlikely someone would be coming upon me from behind.

  I went back to the middle of this floor, stood silently, and listened. No insect or animal noises. No sounds at all – except, perhaps, a slight whispering, like silk being drawn gently across skin.

  I couldn’t tell how many of them were up there, but at least some of this group were on the third level.

  By now I was certain a strong clan of vampires had made the Abbey their home. I was also certain they were here, somewhere, waiting for me. Their sense of smell would tell them I was here, but I’d been inside the Abbey long enough they’d have trouble telling if my scent was nearer or not. I could take the time to ensure I was ready.

  I loosened my Nightstick holders just enough to allow me to grab a backup but not so their contents would spill out, even if I did a flip. My hair was already tied back, and I pulled my skullcap on. My ponytail hung from the opening in the back of the skullcap and I tucked it inside the back of my vest, in part for camouflage – I was in all black and my hair’s reddish-gold hue would stand out – and also to keep my hair from being easily grabbed by my enemies.

  I took my infrared goggles out of the small pouch hooked to my belt and put them on. I left the lamp burning – it might confuse them into thinking I was still on the second floor for a few moments. And in these fights, every moment counted.

  I fingered the vials of holy water still in my pouch, but left them there. I had a feeling there would be too many for the water to be effective, at least until I could drive them into the courtyard.

  Finally I pulled a second Nightstick into my free hand. I wasn’t going to be knocking when I reached the top anyway.

  I moved upstairs slowly, until I could see the third floor. The end of the stairway led to a door, not a landing. I wondered if this door was locked.

  I decided to run the rest of the way, gaining momentum so I could break the door down. If the door was locked, my speed would help me bash through it. If the door was open, then I’d make a more startling entrance.

  Not that I was always reckless, but over the past months I’d discovered that sometimes recklessness was the right choice.

  I took the stairs two at a time and hit the door with my shoulder. It slammed open and I leapt into the room before the door could swing back. To see dozens of what appeared to be monks wearing brown, hooded robes tied with rope around the waist.

  These must have been fighting monks – the room looked like a training area; I’d spent time in a similar room when preparing for my mission. I could have seen all this without my goggles, because there were lit torches along the walls.

  I didn’t hesitate. My goggles confirmed the story my nose and ears had already told me – none of the bodies in the room gave off enough of a heat reading to be human.

  I still seemed to have the element of surprise, which I didn’t have time to question. I just spun and grabbed the nearest “monk” with my Nightstick – I got his neck on the first try, clamped the vise, and twisted. His head came off, but not before he managed a shriek.

  As the body turned into a puddle of blood and far less savory things, I grabbed the next nearest with my other Nightstick and ripped his head off, too.

  Then they were all around me, and as I spun, kicked, hit, and grabbed them with my Nightsticks, I realized that for the first time since my arrival in the past, the Nightsticks were once again working as intended – as they had in the time they’d been created.

  While this was excellent news, clearly the entire Abbey had been turned. And with that knowledge came the clarity, the realization, of how the vampires had managed to spread so far and wide and effectively.

  The last vampire Marcus and I had killed together had been a monk, a real monk. The vampire plague was being spread through the Church.

  Maybe it was because they’d been monks before being turned, but the Nightsticks were stunning these vampires – they moved more slowly than any I’d run across in this time.

  Those I couldn’t grab with the pincer end of the Nightstick I brained with the rounded end. As the Star of David slammed against them, they dissolved as surely as when I ripped their heads off.

  As I fought, I looked for the leader, the vampire who had turned the rest. He was still there, I was sure. The big question was where.

  He dropped on me just as I looked up, his face a mask of rage, fangs bared, snarling incoherently. He’d been above me, floating.

  He landed, screamed in pain, and ripped off my goggles and skullcap. He was the first vampire of this time to react to my clothing. But he wasn’t the first vampire to try this technique, and I was able to drop, spin, and shake him off. As I did, I spotted another vampire staring at me.

  He was younger than most of them, maybe in his mid-twenties. He was a bit taller than me, but since I stood less than five and a half feet, this didn’t make him a giant. He looked slender under his robe, and his features were rather sharp, but not unattractive. He had a thin moustache that went down the sides of his mouth to meet the beard that ran along his jaw-line.

  The leader grabbed me, screaming in pain, and my attention turned back to him. He was a better fighter than the others and dodged my Nightsticks as if we’d fought before and he knew all my feints and parries.

  Had we met through the ’Pires he’d created? Vampires had a telepathic link to their maker, it was how a maker controlled his vampires and thralls. Did that link mean they’d given information back to their master?

  As I spun, I saw the younger vampire again. He was still staring at me, not fighting, not running, just staring. This wasn’t normal, and it unnerved me. The leader called for reinforcements, and I was surrounded.

  The young vampire was close to me now, still staring. I couldn’t give him my full attention, but out of the corner of my eye I saw him reach for me. I tried to catch him with the Nightstick in my left hand, but he dodged the pincer, grabbed the shaft, and wrenched it from my grip.

  The leader laughed, a truly unpleasant sound. “Kill her. Kill this abomination,” he said in Latin as he kicked at me.

  “You’re the abomination,” I said, also in Latin, dodging out of the way. “How many have you made like you?” I thrust my Nightstick towards him and he jumped back.

  “Enough.” He bared his fangs. “You should have been dead already.” He feinted another kick and, as I leaned away from it, he hit my chest. He shouted in pain as I fell back.

  “How do you even know I exist?” I regained my footing. The young vampire was nearby, watching us.

  “I know because you’ve killed my children with your weapons.” He glared at me. “Through my children you’ve infected me with your beliefs. You are the last of your kind, and you must be removed from my presence!”

  I pulled the wooden Cross of Christ off my neck with my free hand and threw it at him. It hit his forehead and he screamed. The necklace fell to the floor – the vampire had a cross burned into his skin. “She is a demon! Her weapons, her very existence, go against God’s will! All of you, destroy her!”

  My weapons I’d always expected to be a problem for the ’Pires. But no vampire had ever mentioned my being, my existence, to be an issue. Was it rhetoric or fact? There was only one way to know.

  I spun and slammed my free hand against the leader’s chest. He shrieked. “Stay back,” I shouted. “You cannot touch me a
nd survive because you are the demons…and I am the demon slayer.”

  For the first time since going back in time, I knew this to be true. I’d found the pattern and its source, and now everything I’d been trained for, everything I’d learned, was once again right.

  The leader no longer wanted to touch me. However, this was a training area, and these monks knew how to fight with staffs. The leader grabbed a staff and attacked.

  Nightsticks were good weapons, but they didn’t have the same kind of maneuverability as a staff did, and they certainly didn’t have the reach. I was staff trained, but loathe to let my Nightstick go.

  He slammed one end of the staff into my chest, which sent me backwards into some of the vampires around us. I was winded and the ’Pires could have attacked. They should have attacked. But they didn’t. Instead they shrieked in fear.

  I didn’t question. I grabbed one’s arm with my Nightstick, using it to pull myself up while I ripped the arm off. The vampire screamed again and I kicked him towards his leader. The staff slammed through the injured ’Pire as I flipped myself forward and to the side.

  The vampire dissolved into dust, still screaming, as the leader pulled the staff out and aimed it towards me again, this time swinging it to hit my head.

  I leaped forward and down into a somersault, gaining my feet in time to see his staff slam into another vampire’s head, taking it off. This vampire certainly had the strength I was used to from my time and rage was clearly making him stronger. Which meant I needed to avoid his blows at all costs.

  The ’Pire leader was shouting orders to the others, but they seemed terrified of me. Some muttered about my scent, others about my weapons. Some begged their leader to let them leave before they were destroyed. I wasn’t sure why they were so frightened – they outnumbered me and I’d never met a ’Pire afraid of a human before, not in this time, and not in mine. There was no logical reason for their fear.

  Unless the majority of vampires were afraid because their maker was afraid.

  They weren’t fighting or attacking me, but they still surrounded us, so limited my options for where to go and what to do. I’d been running on rage, fear and adrenaline. But I’d been fighting for long enough that I was tiring.

  The staff came for me again, this time aimed to sweep me off my feet. I jumped but the ’Pire was fast and he flipped the staff up, hitting my side while I was still in the air.

  I hit the ground hard and again had the wind knocked out of me. The vampires near me backed away as the leader strode forward, staff raised.

  All seemed terrified – except the young vampire. He moved closer, still watching me and only me. His gaze distracted me again, and the leader grabbed me and pulled me up, snarling at the pain his touching me and my clothing caused.

  “You die now, abomination,” he growled. He looked at the young vampire and shoved me towards him. “Use her weapon. Use it now!”

  The young vampire looked straight into my eyes and gave me a small smile as he raised my Nightstick.

  The young vampire swung the Nightstick well over my head. I ducked and spun around to see the pinchers connect with the leader’s neck.

  I watched him wrench his leader’s head off.

  An unholy shriek came from inside the vampire’s headless neck. I’d never heard anything like it, in this time or my own – no vampires had ever made noise after we destroyed them. It took all my training to keep from dropping my Nightstick to cover my ears, but many of the other ’Pires doubled over, screaming.

  The sound – a mixture of a crow’s shriek, a wolf’s howl, and a snake’s hiss, amplified a thousand-fold – continued as the young vampire slammed the Nightstick into the leader’s body and head, until both dissolved. The unholy sound ceased.

  The rest of the clan panicked and started to run. I didn’t want them to escape, I wanted them dead. I didn’t question the young vampire’s motives, I just drew one of my spare Nightsticks and started killing them as fast as I could.

  Someone was behind me and a hand reached under my cloak. He pulled the last Nightstick out and wielded two, just as I did. He put his back to mine and fought, almost as well as one of The Order.

  A few vampires ripped the long, heavy curtains back and jumped out a window that led to the courtyard. “Stop them! Get them into the pond,” I shouted to him in French.

  He raced to the window and leaped through. Screams came from down below.

  I was still surrounded, but having help, even help I didn’t understand, made a huge difference – I was faster, better, more confident. Vampire after vampire fell before me. In less time than I would have guessed, the floor was cleared.

  With the curtains open it was easy to see the second stairway at the opposite end of the room. I found my skullcap and goggles, put them back on, and went to it. No door, just a small set of stairs leading up to the bell tower. There were no vampires up here, but I did have a wonderful view of the surrounding landscape.

  None of the vampires had escaped over the wall as far as I could tell. Only one body moved down there and it was my helper’s. His heat signature looked odd – not human, but not vampiric any more, either.

  I didn’t have time to ponder this, because we weren’t so lucky outside of the Abbey’s walls. There were vampires in the town, and from what I saw coming up the hill, the entire populace, like all the monks, had been turned.

  I raced downstairs and reached the antechamber as the young vampire came inside. “More are coming.”

  “I know. Are you willing to help me against them?”

  “Willing and able, my saint,” he replied. “I am your servant, Alain de Fondeeur.”

  “Your family were metal casters?” I asked, wondering if I’d translated his name correctly.

  He smiled. “Yes. And your weapons were not cast by any in this land. This is one of the ways I know you to be sent from our Lord.”

  I didn’t argue, we didn’t have time. “Are there any humans still here?”

  He shook his head.

  “Then, can you help me to destroy every vampire left?”

  He looked confused. “Vampire?”

  “What you are, at least, what you were.”

  “Ah. Yes, I can help destroy the demons, with great willing, my saint. But can none be saved as you saved me?”

  I was stunned, but we had little time for me to question what was going on. “Doubtful. If they turn on their kind, maybe. Otherwise, rip their heads off and allow God the final decision.”

  “As you say, my saint. I am but your disciple.”

  I considered luring the rest of this vampire hoard into the chapel, to use its very existence as a weapon. But there were enough of them to wait us out and then we’d be truly trapped. “Are we better off staying inside the Abbey or going out to the streets?”

  He considered. “The streets. Little of the water is left in the pond and all can leap the courtyard walls. There may be less ways for us to be cornered outside.”

  I wondered if he was right or if this was some elaborate trap. But I’d asked for his advice. “Outside, then. Good luck.”

  “God is with us,” he said serenely. “I fear nothing now that you are here, my saint.”

  I didn’t share his optimism, but I didn’t tell him so. I just prayed he was right.

  We left the Abbey and I was relieved to note none of the vampires had reached us yet. They were moving more slowly than I expected. “What’s wrong with them?”

  “They are held in thrall, my saint. None of them are full demons yet. Most have been turned, just not completed.”

  “They haven’t drunk the vampire’s blood?”

  “No.” A look of revulsion passed over Alain’s features. “No, they have not committed that sacrilege. They took orders from our leader. I have killed him, so they have no one to provide direction now.”

  I had a wild idea, but one worth trying. “Alain, order them to stop.”

  “I will try, my saint. Hold, all of you!” he s
houted.

  They slowed even more, but didn’t stop. “Try again. Speak in Latin – your leader didn’t use French.”

  He complied, shouting for them to hold in Latin this time. Many of them stopped, and Alain shouted the command in both languages a few more times until all the vampires were standing still, just waiting. “Now what, my saint?”

  Now, I had no idea. This was new, completely new. Alain, the village vampires, none of this was within my realm of experience. Years of training and a lifetime of fear and hatred made me want to just kill them all.

  Instead I forced myself to examine them. Alain came with me. They were all pale, as Violet had been when she’d been drained. But none of them looked feral, as vampires tended to. Alain wasn’t as pale. He looked almost healthy, as if he were alive.

  “Why do they understand Latin?” I murmured to myself. Liam had stressed that Latin was reserved for the Church and high nobility only. Alain and the rest of the vampire monks speaking Latin made sense. The peasantry understanding it didn’t.

  “Because our leader only spoke Latin, my saint. He was not from here. His communication taught them what they needed to know.”

  “Do you know where he came from?”

  “He said Romania, if the words of a demon are to be believed.”

  The pattern I’d searched so long for was set. The Order’s scientists had been right – we’d been sent exactly where and when we should have been. “So, vampires are telepathic.”

  “I don’t understand you, my saint.”

  “The leader spoke to you in your mind.”

  “Oh. No. No words. Feelings. Thralls are controlled by words, yes, but more by desire of the master. If the master demon desires something, the thrall will obey.”

  “The master wanted you to kill me.”

  Alain smiled at me. “He did. But God sent you to save me, my saint. I was deceived by the demon’s words, we all were. We believed his lie that God wanted us to become higher beings, to save the wretched from sickness and horror.”