by Devon Ashley
Traveling through the main lobby, Emily passed the murals depicting the methods used to kill or thwart off a vampire. One showed death by sun exposure, the vampire burning into nothingness. The second and third murals used holy water and crosses to singe the sallow skin. The last mural, and albeit the most effective method, showed a hunter puncturing the heart of the vampire with a wooden stake, causing the body to burst into dust and ashes.
Emily followed the hallway to the conservatory. She always ended up here. No one else ever seemed interested. Perhaps that was the most inviting lure of all; a quiet room all to her lonesome when tranquility was what she desired.
The conservatory was one of the few rooms that weren’t original to the manor. Added on in the late twentieth century to the back of the manor, the Order wanted to offer a place in which the hunters could unwind from the stress of their exhausting daily routines and enjoy the peace and serenity. Still, most tended to collapse in their dormitory bedrooms or the lounge, not here.
The glasshouse was more than five thousand square feet with pebble paths leading off every which way. The ornate metal and glass structure panels led up twelve feet. From there, the roof angled in and up using decorative and curved shingle-styled glass. The structure continued up again with glass overlaid by metal shutters, finally topping off the conservatory with a massive dome-shaped sphere.
The subtropical plants and heaters were a nice change from the frost-covered environment going on outside the conservatory. Winter had set in by the time she’d arrived last month. The snowy weather was invigorating the first few days, but was hard to take long term when you’ve acclimated to the sunny, mild weather of Sausalito, California, her home for the past two years - particularly when you’re stuck in a place that still ran on individual oil heaters. The conservatory was the only room that ran on automated electric heaters. And sprinklers, which to her dismay, she learned only of when they soaked her during her first visit many years ago.
Emily settled down on a padded bench next to the oleander bushes and the jasmine vines that crept up the trellis. Her view overlooked the top of the cliff that dropped slightly down to the frozen lake below (not that she could see it through the steam-covered glass). The lake was once a valley that connected three peaks of the mountain. Now filled with water, the lake is frozen or filled with slush most months of the year.
Unlike those outside the manor, the plants inside thrived. The room was filled with lush greenery, perfumes, fruits and flowers. Sunset was her favorite time here. The night jasmine would bloom and release an intense and invigorating fragrance that soothed her nerves and cleared her mind.
This moment of clarity was what she was seeking. Now able to free herself of all the memories and questions circling her mind with tornado-like force. Now able to organize her jumbled thoughts into coherent ones. Now able to think about the days to come.
Abby and Noel would soon arrive. With them they would bring questions of their own, but mostly answers. Answers that would reward Emily for her loyalty and patience these past two years. Answers to questions they’ve placed on hold. Answers about Morphus – about themselves.
Chapter Six
A slightly muscular female emerged gracefully through the shadows of the dim hallway. Physically, she appeared to be in her mid twenties, but inside, she was an older, wiser woman beyond her years. Her emerald eyes, long, flowing red hair, ivory skin and light freckles differed greatly from the other hunters in the manor. The back of her shoulder bared the familiar mark of the hunter.
Abby Sorrensten ran her hand along a wall of pictures of hunters and advisors and scanned those that had fallen before her. A passage explained each death. Few hunters died of natural causes - all were young. The color photos faded to black and white around the early 1970’s. The further she scanned, the more worn the photographs became. Around the 1850’s, the pictures were replaced with hand-drawn portraits that had browned and curled with age. She couldn’t help but notice that she wasn’t depicted on the time table.
Her attention was drawn to 1810. Five advisors died on the same day, November eighteenth. One in particular mesmerized her, confused her - Nathaniel Watts. He seemed so familiar. The five pictures lacked a corresponding passage. Only a single line was present, stating ‘circumstance of death not recorded’.
Abby knew she attended the school from 1797 to 1810 but she could remember nothing of the time she spent here. Yet this face, these dark eyes, reminded her of something. And the deaths she couldn’t place. One would think five deaths in a day would be burned into your memory, your soul. But then again, Abby wasn’t sure of when she left that year. Perhaps it happened afterwards. She would have to ask Noel.
She would have to ask him a lot of things, though he seemed to remember as little as she did from this particular time period. She attended the school from four to sixteen but she couldn’t remember any part of it. Even the building itself. It clearly hadn’t undergone many upgrades in the past two centuries, but nothing looked familiar.
Sounds and vibrations of clanging metal drew Abby farther down the hallway. Voices soon followed. She stepped onto a balcony overlooking the arena floor. The hunters were being trained by the advisors, or at least that’s what they thought they were doing. Though skilled in particular areas, none compared physically to the hunters they instructed. Fencing, gymnastics, knife-throwing and kickboxing were all being practiced. The hunters seemed somewhat adequate but none seemed as talented as Emily had become.
Abby felt a twinge down her spine and turned around. She had sensed something behind her – still did – but nothing was visible in the darkness. She thought for the faintest moment that a set of glowing eyes were watching her. Having always trusted her instincts, she knew they were not failing her now. But sensing no danger from the anomaly, she turned back to the arena floor.
The advisors and hunters had become alerted to her presence. All had stopped, frozen in place. Each set of eyes looked up to her. The female hunters looked up in awe. The alpha male carried a sense of annoyance. Shocker. Men often received her in this manner. But it was the reactions of the advisors that really surprised her. Many seem frightened. Some backed themselves into the shadows, others whispered.
Emily seemed to be missing from the evening workout. No surprise there either. Abby knew she dreaded being here, forced to take orders from those she despised.
“Abby? They’re ready to see us now.” Noel stepped out of the darkness into view. The creamy beige-skinned man was in his mid thirties. Good-looking but rough around the edges. His dark brown hair was long enough to cut in around the eyes, but still too short to tie back. His chocolate eyes were warm and affecting. Abby had always been drawn to them. She found them soft and soothing.
Noel was generally calm and collected but extremely protective of Abby. She was impatient and high-maintenance at times. Noel was her perfect complement.
Ignoring the unwavering eyes below, she joined him down the hallway. As they turned to leave, Abby once again stared into the darkness. She still felt a particular presence watching her, but still nothing was visible. They appeared to be alone.
Chapter Seven
Noel Berekin had been dreading this day for two hundred years. Always mindful of the horrible memories lingering here, he had kept Abby far from this place and the stories associated with it. Never did he open the conversation. When she did, he changed the topic to something more pressing to their current situation. Quite often he feigned memory loss, blaming the many years that had passed for his inability to recall. But he knew all too well the horrors that took place here - and he was quite certain the current Order did too.
He feared the meeting about to take place. Abby had always sensed something happened here in her youth. He witnessed her shudder the moment they passed through the exterior iron gates, hesitant to continue on. Her eyes were focused, suspicious of the manor before her. Could she sense the darkness that once resided here? Once within herself?
; Once inside, she had been on alert, always on guard for something out of place. Her usual sassy and sarcastic personality had taken a backseat to something far less comfortable, downright cynical to anyone that didn’t really know her. Please let us get through this day without her snapping.
Not that they wouldn’t have deserved it…
Chancellor Moore, Lincoln and Jayden were all waiting for them in the Chancellor’s office. Moore and Lincoln surprisingly gave civil introductions to her. Some would have found Jayden’s sneer and unwavering glare uneasy. Abby, however, would have been inclined to rip the eyes from his sockets had she been paying attention to it.
“Abigail Sorrensten. Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it,” expressed the Chancellor, semi-smiling.
“You’re the reigning Chancellor?” Abby asked indifferently.
“Yes. I am Chancellor Moore. This here is Lincoln, one of our eldest and wisest advisors.”
They nodded in acknowledgement. Abby locked eyes with Jayden. “And you?”
“Jayden is my assistant,” stepped in the Chancellor, sensing the annoyance on Abby’s quizzical face. “If you need anything, just ask. He’ll take care of it for you.”
Not freakin’ likely, thought Noel. Jayden continued to stare silently at her. Not necessarily glaring, but relentless none the less. Even Noel couldn’t figure out the meaning behind it. Realizing Jayden’s behavior, Abby slightly cocked her head at him. Noel recognized the threatening glint in her eye and casually stepped in between them, cutting off their line of sight. Her eyes found his and quickly softened.
Noel turned to Lincoln just as he was focusing in on his and Abby’s left hands. All aghast, he asked, “Are you married to each other?”
Noel answered mundanely, “Yeah, so?”
He gasped loudly. “Didn’t the Order tell you that advisors are not permitted to fraternize with their hunters?”
“Yes,” countered Noel, “but they’re all dead now.”
“And you’re not.” All eyes turned to Jayden. Silence ensued.
Noel remained in Abby’s line of sight so she merely spoke through him. “Our personal lives are no longer the Order’s concern. Don’t bother asking cause we’re not telling. And I mean that in every aspect of our lives.” Abby then turned her back on Jayden. “Can we do this already?”
Noel silently sighed. Abby had many virtues: perseverance, courage, endurance. There were times he’d trade them all for patience.
The Chancellor retrieved a book from his desk and passed it to Abby. Noel leaned over her shoulder. He gently pressed against her as he recognized the symbol depicted in the book. It was exactly what they were looking for.
“Do you recognize this symbol?” asked the Chancellor.
“Looks like a blurry circle to me,” Abby stated, though she understood more than she was letting on.
“It was the symbol given for Morphus, prize pet of the Goddess Eris,” he explained.
The drawing didn’t do the real symbol justice, seeing how it was impossible to depict. The real symbol had illusionistic qualities. You could watch it forever and see it change from one thing to the next. Suiting for the demon Morphus, who could also morph into endless formations.
“We have been informed that he is set to rise and perhaps, may have already done so.”
Unimpressed, Abby tossed the ancient book carelessly to the table. “Demons rise practically every day. What makes you think he’s due?”
Lincoln answered, “The Oracles have informed us. They’re our medium to the gods.”
“Could someone explain to us why Morphus is the responsibility of the hunter organization and not the demonic warriors?” Abby challenged.
Rather curtly, Jayden was the quickest to respond. “For as long as you two have been around, certainly you’ve become chummy with the warrior organization. Why not ask them yourselves?”
Noel felt a twinge, a slight annoyance ran down his spine. Jayden was intentionally egging her on today. Why, he did not know. Regardless, he shot the Chancellor an annoyed expression as Abby did the same towards Jayden.
“Perhaps I have and would like to hear your version,” retorted Abby rather rudely, crossing her arms.
“Have you really?” asked the Chancellor urgently.
“We’ve spent years trying to locate someone, anyone, in their organization but have been unsuccessful,” said Lincoln.
“Imagine that,” mocked Abby. “A secret organization that actually maintains secrecy.” She raised her eyebrows at Noel in disapproval.
Offended, the Chancellor quickly replied, “The Order has maintained its secrecy.”
“I beg to differ. There’s not a culture in the world that hasn’t heard of the vampire hunter. They may believe hunters are fictitious, but they’ve heard of them nonetheless.”
Lincoln spoke over the Chancellor’s flabbergasted huff. “Abigail, you are correct. Vampires alone were our responsibility. However, it took a hunter two thousand years ago to contain Morphus. She placed a binding spell on him, linking him indefinitely to the hunter lineage.”
“Why didn’t she just kill him?” Abby asked eagerly. This was something they hadn’t been able to discover on their own.
“No one at that time had been successful. Warriors, hunters. Those who went in search of him never returned,” answered the Chancellor. He settled back down in his executive leather chair lined with golden studs.
“But you think he can be killed now?” asked Abby disbelievingly.
“With the weapons of today, it’s very likely he’ll succumb.”
Sure, perhaps a nuclear bomb. “Don’t bother. Just find another witch and trap him again.”
“Easier said than done,” said Lincoln. “Morphus is the pet of the Goddess Eris. If you remember your mythology then you know she’s the Goddess of Discord, a trouble-maker.”
“We already know this story,” Abby interjected. Noel reached out and gently tugged her backwards. She took the hint and relaxed her stance a bit.
“She caused an upset between the gods,” explained Noel. “Bitter for not being invited to a wedding, she tossed a golden apple amongst them with the phrase ‘to the fairest’. Naturally, each goddess wanted it for herself. Long story short, it initiated the Trojan War.”
In a tone that seemed over the top serious, Lincoln sternly said, “Well, here’s one story you won’t find in any library book. Her pet, Morphus, once tried to raise a demon army and bring about an apocalypse to destroy mankind. She blessed him with special powers that no god or mortal has ever been able to find a weakness for. When released, he’ll try to bring about the apocalypse again and rid the world of the human race.”
Unimpressed, Abby asked, “So why’s the spell wearing off?”
“Feuding of the deities,” replied Lincoln. “Athena is a warrior goddess, our goddess. Still annoyed with Eris for tricking the gods into war, Athena blessed her favorite warrior, a hunter, with magical powers that were used to contain Morphus. Since the hunter’s powers were not legitimate from birth, Zeus allowed the spell to weaken with time.”
“So this is Zeus’ demented way of having us prove that we’re worth the time and effort of continuation,” sassed Abby.
Noel moaned silently.
“To some effect,” replied Lincoln.
“How much time do we have?”
“The ordained huntress was scheduled for confrontation on the first day of spring, March twenty-first.”
Noel shook his head in disbelief. “I’m sorry, who was supposed to meet him?”
“Athena was supposed to reincarnate the female hunter that bound him originally. She was to be born with legitimate powers and skills this time.” Ashamed, Lincoln continued, “But, for whatever reason, the ordained huntress no longer seems to be with us.”
Jayden shifted his stance. Noel had completely forgotten he was there. “How do you know that?”
Lincoln replied, “The ordained huntress would have been b
orn with a birthmark of the symbol you were shown. None of the current hunters have it.”
Noel huffed in disbelief. “So you had the only hunter ordained with the power to defeat Morphus and you let her out into the world unprotected?”
“Not on purpose.”
“Good job.” He stepped closer to Abby, fearing the possible change of her emotional state hearing this directly from the Order’s mouth.
“No hunter for hundreds of years had shown to be more special than the others. All were inspected after birth and the mark was never seen. We had no idea Morphus was coming or that she would fall to Eraticus prior to confrontation,” said the Chancellor.
Annoyed, Jayden spat, “Please. Any hunter actually blessed by a god wouldn’t have died against Eraticus.”
“Excuse me?” exclaimed Abby.
Ah, crap. They had been so close to finishing this without incidence. He truly wanted to throttle Jayden.
“I’m only saying what we’re all thinking. Morphus has been blessed by a goddess. A far more worthy opponent than Eraticus, who by the way was nothing more than a simpleton, a rather large and smelly buffoon ranked at the bottom of the demonic world, yet he still wiped the floor with each and every one of you.”
His eyes fixed on Jayden, Noel didn’t realize Abby had shifted to return her line of sight. He barely regained position before she tried to lunge for him.
“You bastard!” yelled Abby. “I don’t see your pathetic ass out there doing anything productive in the world.”
He crossed his arms and his shoulders rose almost high enough to touch his ears. “What? I should be like a hunter? Leave school at eighteen, kill a few vampires and die a few years later? Such a contribution, really.”
So fixated on Abby, Jayden neglected to see the retaliation coming from Noel. One hand still holding her back, Noel thrust his grip around Jayden’s neck and pulled him close. Stunned and abashed, the Chancellor and Lincoln froze in place.