Acula

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Acula Page 8

by Robert D. Armstrong


  The wolves were no more than twelve paces from us, yet they didn’t seem to notice. We sat down on a log in front of them as the mothers hurried a group of pups in for a meal.

  “Monsters?” he asked, nodding at the pups. “Everything has to eat.”

  “You enjoy killing. I saw it in your face back at the slave camps, when you killed the Greek soldiers that freed us,” I said.

  “I do enjoy the kill, but it’s in my nature, too.” He glanced at the wolves. “As it is yours now.”

  “No. You’re wrong. Not me,” I replied.

  He laughed loudly. It echoed off the mountains as he tilted his head back. The moonlight gleamed off his bald head. I wanted to stab him. I wanted to tear his throat out while he was distracted.

  “Father and I…we will find a cure,” I said.

  “Hahaha! A cure?” he asked.

  “We already know of a man that can help me,” I replied.

  “Larus?” he asked. I was surprised he knew the name, even though he could see my thoughts. “No one can cure you, child, that’s absurd. A dream. The only way to stop it is to die,” he explained. I looked at the ground, thinking maybe it was lies, but then I looked back up at him.

  “What is this? What did you do to me?” I asked.

  “What happened to you…happened to me as well. You’re not the first, or the last. You remember that pretty little witch’s daughter you liked so much? I thank your father for leading me to her. Mmmmm, so sweet that one was.”

  “No…” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. I had only known her briefly, but I felt responsible. “Why would you do that?”

  “Why not? I was hungry, and all that build-up between you and her was too much to take!” He cackled again wildly at some memory of that night. “That girl was born for this anyway; she’ll have plenty to do now,” he replied.

  He’d seen everything. My nervous kisses and fumbling caresses. The rising hunger that had almost made me into a true monster. I felt violated. All those terrible moments I’d experienced, he had simply watched, the way we had watched the wolves from afar. I imagined him laughing at Father and I as we struggled to come to terms with what was happening.

  “Why not just kill us and get it over with?!” I yelled.

  “Shhhhh, I’ll explain later. For now, take comfort in the fact that the witch’s daughter, she’s tearing into every piece of flesh she can. She’s killed her mother, her sister, and a few more,” he said, smiling. Suddenly, a pair of wolves began fighting over a chunk of the hind leg, growling and tearing away at it. One of the wolves bit the other, then they rolled around on the blood-soaked ground.

  “Tell me why you picked me! Now!” I demanded. He stood up, looking away from me. “Hey! I’m talking to you!” I yelled. The wolves stopped eating, staring at the monster walking away from me. “Where are you going?!” I asked.

  “Come,” he said.

  ***

  I followed behind him to a cave atop a mountain covered in snow. It overlooked a vast stretch of Greece. I could see for miles and miles. Dozens of villages spotted the horizon. I could see fires burning and hear human voices far off in the distance.

  “We’re home,” he said.

  The wind howled through the entrance. It reminded me of the way his voice sounded when he would speak to me from afar. I imagined him perched out on the ledge, watching me, watching his prey in the distance.

  “So is this where you would speak to me?” I asked.

  “It takes concentration to speak between minds, but with practice, I can show you. That reminds me, I never told you my name,” he said.

  “I don’t care—”

  “Morack,” he said.

  “Fitting. Sounds like a monster’s name. A terrible ghoul with nothing to do but ruin lives,” I said.

  “Hmm…now that I think about it, so does Acula,” he replied, smiling with a glint in his eye. I glared over at him with all the daggers I could muster.

  As we entered the cave, I noticed the walls were made of ice. It appeared someone had chiseled it into a beautiful interior. The ceilings were squared off, as were the doorways. Everything was a dark blue, which reminded me of an approaching storm.

  “Who made all this?” I asked, looking up.

  “Ah, yes. This. I kidnapped a group of twenty travelers and made them do it. Promised them their freedom if they did it within three months.”

  “Did they finish in time?” I asked.

  “Oh yes, beautiful job, too. Just look at that craftsmanship!” Morack said earnestly. “They actually did more than I asked for. Mhm, yes.”

  “You let them go?” I asked.

  “I did, but I killed them shortly thereafter,” he said.

  I looked at him in horror, though I should have known by now that this man, this abomination, would have no honor. “You’re an oath breaker!”

  “I’m not. I let them go, just as I said I would. I never said I wouldn’t kill them at some point thereafter,” he said. My mind began to wonder. I thought about all the work these people had done for nothing. He’d never had any intention of letting them live.

  The path we walked was constructed of stone steps elevated from the ice below. I could see skulls and bones underneath me. “More of your lies, I see.”

  “No, not all of them; some of them died from the cold,” Morack insisted.

  “Preserved for your feeding, no doubt,” I replied.

  “Well, I mustn’t let it go to waste, now should I?” He smirked.

  We continued to cross several chasms. The plummet beneath me grew deeper and deeper, to the point where it seemed to drop forever into the blackness. “Watch your step; even I cannot save you if you miss,” Morack said. I thought this would be a good spot to end it. I stopped, looking over the vast darkness.

  “Maybe I’ll just jump now?” I said.

  “…that would be unwise, my child,” he said.

  “Why? What do I have to lose? You can’t stop me. You have no control what I do,” I said.

  “Ha! Control? You think this about control?”

  “Tell me now! Why have you brought me here? What are we?!” I asked, my voice echoing off sculpted walls of the cave.

  He slowly walked towards me, and as he did so, his eyes turned into a cold blue, matching the cave walls. Without the constant red hue, they looked almost…human.

  “…I’m lonely,” he admitted at length, slumping his head.

  “Lonely? Ha! The sad monster of the ice mountain. Sounds like a children’s song—”

  “Don’t mock. Do not mock me,” he said, slowly raising his hand. His long index finger extended out towards me. Underneath his claw, I could see and smell the blood of the boy from the village.

  Morack turned away from me. “I had a son once…he was my only son. He was about your age, maybe a touch younger, but not quite as tall as you…is that hard to believe, that I had a son?”

  “Very,” I replied truthfully.

  “Really? Hmm. Well, you have much to learn, then. I remember that day still, when it happened. This change of mine. My son and I, we were fishing on the Nile River just before dawn one evening when a man approached in a hooded cloak. He…He sat down on the riverbed and stared out into the water. His disposition seemed routine, uninterested in us, so naturally, I thought nothing of him,” he said, pausing for a moment. Morack began to pull his shoulders in tight as if he were cold, but I knew that wasn’t possible.

  “We left the river because it was getting dark. We grabbed our fish and began walking back to our village. The man followed us. I tried not to alert my son; I wanted to show strength, but he could tell I was nervous. I didn’t know the man, and for him to follow us was unusual.

  “The cloaked man got closer and closer, and as night fell, he removed the hood from his head, revealing long white hair. I stopped about halfway back home, confronting him. I asked him if he was hungry, as he seemed to have taken an interest in us. If he was after our fish, that was the best-case s
cenario. He smiled and told me he was very hungry, but not for fish,” Morack said. He sat down and sighed, precariously dangling his legs over the chasm. I got the sense that Morack hadn’t spoken of this in a long time. Then he looked up at me and gave a sad smile.

  “He knocked the breath out of me with one strike. I fell down, powerless. Ah, he was so strong. Then I heard my son scream in terror. He called out for me, my son. I tried to get up, but I couldn’t. I could barely breathe. I watched him tear into his little neck as he yelled for my help…then, there was nothing.” He shook his head, looking down.

  “By the time my son was nothing but a bag of bones, I was able to stand and fight, but I was too emotional to be any sort of challenge. I was never a fighter to begin with, not that it would have mattered. I could hear men from the village running to our aid, but the man ran at me, biting my neck. I felt cold, but—”

  “No pain,” I finished.

  He bobbed his head in agreement. “Yes, no pain, but I wanted him to finish me. I didn’t want to live after…I couldn’t live with failing my son,” he said.

  “The group from the village—about fifteen men drove him off me. He disappeared into the bushes, leaving me alive,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

  “Within four days, I had killed everyone in my village. My wife, brothers, my aunts, even my own mother. I made sure to kill them, draining them to nothing,” he said casually as his eyes turned red.

  “W-Why? Your own wife, your mother?” I said. I thought about my own mother. I felt he was lucky to have even known his.

  “I was angry. Insane. I felt weak; I wanted to feel strength. My thirst was stronger than my desire for death. Mother was the first I killed. I plunged my fangs into her neck, and blood gushed into my mouth as tears poured from my eyes. I remember her calling out my name in confusion. I pulled back, but then I snarled, biting her again, lashing out for my failure as a father, my inability to protect my son,” he said, lowering his voice.

  “I doubt your mother ever had to fight off anything like—”

  “—us?” Morack interrupted.

  “No. You. You and whoever did this to you. This…this lineage stops with me,” I said.

  “Hahaha. So much confidence and spirit, yet your naivety narrows your perspective,” Morack said.

  “So much to offer, does it? Killing, lies, and manipulation?”

  “What if I told you that you will never die from disease, never die from old age?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

  “That’s…not possible. How—?”

  “Of course it is. Look at everything you’ve seen in the last days, and you doubt that? Calm down. Eternity is not so bad as long as you have a…companion.” He glared up at me. “Solitude was my mistake, I see that now.”

  “You drive my father insane, nearly kill him, and you want me as a companion? You’ve made me into an enemy!” I fired back at him.

  I sat down, burying my face in my hands, attempting to make sense of it. Forever was not easy to imagine. I pictured a road that never ended. It was terrifying, yet exciting. I thought of all the different lives I could live, all the lands I could visit and explore. But then I remembered that I would never see the sunlight, never love a woman without watching her die before me. It felt sad and…lonely, just like the creature before me.

  “A long, lonely path,” I said.

  “Your hunger will keep you alive. Beyond your thirst for death, thirst for blood will overpower all else. I’m only attempting to spare you more pain. I’m being honest, I’ve been down this road.”

  “How do I know you’re not lying like you did with the travelers? Just…just leave me alone! Let me go! Just leave me and my father alone!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. Morack crossed his arms as he stood up, nodding his head.

  “I understand your frustration,” he replied.

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Remember that I saved you. Remember that you asked for this. You knew the end result and I gladly helped. I’ve lessened your family’s horror by removing you. You would have eventually killed Zella and your entire family. I spared your conscience. I spared you what I’ve endured all these years.”

  “No. Never. You’re wrong!” I yelled. My lip snarled up, exposing my fangs.

  “Am I? Remember the goat you killed? Your thirst only becomes more powerful after you feed the first time. I saw you looking at the boy from your village, his severed head. You wanted more blood.”

  “I wanted to see who the boy was. Of course I was looking,” I said.

  “I know the look: red eyes, black veins pulsing in your neck, swallowing, salivating. You wanted more, but you were afraid to ask.” Morack grinned smugly. “You forget I’ve been doing this for over five lifetimes.”

  “Don’t assume I’m weak like you, I can fight the thirst. I can fight until I find a cure.”

  “Tell yourself what you like. I know the truth. You hurried away that night to look for the goats because of your lust for Zella’s blood. You had to run away when she was calling out in pain. You wanted her, you wanted to bleed her dry. I simply…spared you and your family,” he said.

  “You killed your family out of anger! I’m not you. I didn’t fail anyone,” I said.

  “You failed your father, just like I failed my son,” he whispered.

  “I fought for my father!” I said.

  “You did. But if you truly understood how to use your powers, you could have fled away with him. You could have saved the both of you without my help,” he reminded.

  “That’s not my fault! How was I supposed to use power I am unaware of?”

  “You have the chance to learn. I will show you the way. If you truly believe there is a cure, then why not exploit your power while you have it? As we speak, your father is a prisoner. Your uncle’s prisoner. He will stand trial for aiding an agent of the underworld, namely you,” Morack said.

  “I don’t believe that,” I said.

  “Well, what do you think will happen, then? Think about it. Your uncle saw with his own eyes what you are, and he saw your father helping you. Whether you or I killed Zella, it doesn’t matter, it would have happened either way,” he said.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do, and I also know your father will be put to death. But if you want to sit here and bet on your grieving uncle’s mercy, then by all means, go ahead. But I think you’re smarter than that,” he said, cutting his eyes at me.

  “This could be true, but my uncle doesn’t know the full story. You put us all in this situation,” I said.

  “Like the wolves, I’m doing what I was made to do, but it looks like you’ll need to remedy this. Your father’s no doubt surrounded by guards; if you couldn’t manage to fend off those men earlier, how can you do anything against armed watchmen? You’ll need to learn how to use your power,” he said.

  I stared at him for a few moments as he looked off into the distance. A breeze barreled through the cave, whipping his long, dark purple robe about. It cracked and snapped like the slaver’s whip, throwing me back to my time with the Persians. I had escaped one prison for another, and Morack was my new taskmaster.

  “First, I have a proposition for you,” he said, speaking up over the breeze.

  “What?”

  “I teach you the power to save your father, but after you do, I want you consider a life here, with me. This isn’t a contract,” he added, “but understand this: if you father doesn’t die a prisoner, he’ll die someday. And unlike your father, you and I will be around forever. Believe me, a single lifetime is long enough to live alone, and you have many more ahead of you, Acula.”

  From the sincerity in his tone, I would have almost sworn that Morack genuinely cared about my future, the well-being of my prolonged existence from here on out.

  But deep down I knew that would never be an option. He was corrupted. Evil. Spending more than a few hours with him was already more than I could endure. I was quick not to dwell on it. I worried
he might read my thoughts in that instant.

  “I could learn a few things, perhaps,” I said.

  “Good. I would rather it be your decision instead of trying to force it on you,” he explained.

  “What must I learn?” I said. I wanted to know his tricks, his power. The more I learned, the better the chance I had of killing him and saving father. I wanted to turn his own power against him.

  He stood up, looking across the chasms. The path we had been walking up until now had consisted of stone steps set in the carved corridors of ice, a solid surface all the way through. Where we had been dangling our legs, though, was over an abyss. Darkness all the way down that even my night vision could not penetrate. Spanning the black open space were a dozen or more pillars of stone and ice. I could not tell if they were natural or had been carved as part of some insane obstacle course. All I knew was that a fall while leaping from one pillar to the next would certainly mean death. The closest of them was twenty paces away, much too far for even a running jump.

  Morack gazed at the expanse, breathed in deep, and then leaped over several of the pillars with ease. It must have been over hundred and fifty paces. He alighted on a distant one with ease, his feet touching stone like a feather falling to the ground. My mouth dropped; not only was the distance great, but the speed at which he flew through the air was like an arrow.

  He spoke to me inside my head. ‘Once you learn how to do this, you can apply it to any movement to enhance your speed. Remember the wolves and stag?’

  “…yes…” I spoke out loud, unable to project my thoughts the way he could. I knew he would be able to hear me even across this great distance.

  ‘Recall how you looked past the trees, using the night to extend your vision to see beyond them—’

  I shut my eyes, looking to where he was. I could see it plainly as if I was already there. I leaped towards him, but when I opened my eyes, I had only jumped about halfway.

 

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