Blood Reign

by Harvey W. McCarthy

  "Impressive," Visigoth said as he circled towards his opponent. He had built a home with large rooms so he could battle council warriors freely if they were ever to invade his domain. Now, he had his opportunity. "However, only a fool would face a vampire lord on his own soil."

  Cristof stepped into the limited light. Visigoth gasped when he recognized the intruder. "Maybe so, but you are an even bigger fool for not finishing the job in Wittenberg."

  "You? I made you one of us," Visigoth said.

  "You tried and you failed," Cristof said.

  "I killed you once, Blutherz, I will do it again," Visigoth said as he struck.

  Cristof caught him and threw him into a stone wall. Visigoth had built his home entirely out of stone. He feared that they would learn that he was a vampire and that they would try to burn his home. However, as his ribs cracked from hitting the stone wall, he wished that he had chosen wood instead. Before he could stand, Cristof kicked him in the face. Blood flew from Visigoth's mouth. His vampire visage formed only to be met by a punch to the jaw.

  The force of the blow threw him through his lavish chair. It crushed under his weight. He recovered in time to see Cristof leaping at him. He flipped the council warrior over with his legs and he jumped to his feet. However, he was shocked to see Cristof flip and land on his feet. Visigoth was scared.

  "Maybe we can discuss this," Visigoth said.

  He held up his hands as he stepped backwards. Cristof didn't speak. He had removed a device from his back and fired. The bolt shot through the vampire's right wrist and ripped his hand from his body. The vampire screamed as his blood sprayed around the room. He held his wrist as he stumbled backwards. Another bolt struck him in the center of the chest. Cristof's cold, dark eyes stared at him as he approached.

  "H…H…How?" the vampire asked as his life started to slip away.

  "Crossbow. A little gift from my Chinese council warriors. You should start feeling the effects of the silver tipped bolt soon," Cristof said.

  "You will never win this war," Visigoth gasped.

  Cristof grasped him by his shirt and lifted him into the air. His vampire visage appeared. He hissed and he bit into Lord Visigoth's throat. He drank quickly before the silver had completely reached his bloodstream. He threw him on his bed. He opened a vial of holy water and he drank it. He removed a letter from his belt and he tossed it onto the bed.

  "Greetings from Martin Luther," he said.

  The vampire couldn't speak. The silver tipped bolt had begun to infect his body. Slowly and painfully he died. Cristof watched the vampire's life slip from his undead body. He removed the bolt from the rapidly decaying chest and placed it in his quiver. He moved to his writing desk and found his vampire diary. He placed the tome in his pack and he leapt out the window. Moments later, he was gone.

  Another member of the Order of Twelve had been destroyed, but Christopher Bloodheart, the vampire hunter, was born.

  CHAPTER 11

  David sat in stunned silence. He stared directly at his friend. He had learned to hate vampires with every fiber of his being. Vampires had beaten him physically and mentally. They had killed his parish priest and one of his closest and dearest friends. Another of his dearest friends sat in front of him. His dark eyes gazed directly at him. David didn't want to believe him. How could he be a vampire? he thought. He hates vampires. He fights them with every ounce of strength in his body. He blinked several times and continued to stare at his friend.

  "It is true," Chris stated.

  David cleared his throat. "I…I…I believe you. I just don't know if I want to," David admitted.

  Larry put his hand on David's shoulder. "Trust me, son," he said with a forced smile, "I didn't want to believe him either."

  "So you are a vampire?" David asked cautiously.

  Chris cocked an eyebrow as he plotted his answer. "Yes and no."

  "Yes and no. Great political answer," David said sarcastically. "Have you ever considered running for office?"

  "I mean I don't know what I am. I still feel human. You've seen me. I still eat regular food, but I also must have blood. Trust me; it is as disgusting as it sounds."

  "And you mix it with holy water?" David asked.

  "I haven't gnawed on you lately have I?" Chris retorted.

  David held up a hand. "Okay, I admit that it was a stupid question, but how long can you go without holy water?"

  Chris looked at Larry who shrugged. "I don't know for certain. This last time was pretty long. When Larry gave me the pint of blood in the limo, I was in pretty rough shape. Drinking the holy water afterwards felt like being caught in an electric fence. I haven't felt like that in a very, very long time."

  "Where did you get the blood?" David asked as he turned to face Larry. "We had been pretty much together during those last few days."

  "I have a friend who is a nurse," Larry admitted.

  "They sold it to you?"

  "No," Larry answered.

  "Then where did you get it?" David pressed.

  "Come on, David, you're not that dumb. I've taught you, I know how smart you are," Larry grumbled.

  "You drank his blood?" David asked incredulously as he quickly turned to face Chris.

  "Desperate times call for desperate measures," Chris replied.

  "That's just fucking gross," David said as he felt his stomach churning.

  "I never said that I liked it," Chris said. "I just need it to stay alive."

  Larry cleared his throat and David turned to face him. "If I was dying and needed mouth to mouth recitation, would you do it?"

  David sheepishly nodded. "I understand now."

  All three men were silent for several minutes. They allowed David to absorb all of the information that had just been presented to him. Larry patted him on the shoulder. David placed his face in his hands. Chris patted him on the thigh. His heart and his head hurt. In the past week he had dealt with the deaths of two close friends and now he had to wrap his mind around the fact that his friend was the enemy that he hated. He didn't know if he was mentally strong enough to handle the sensory overload.

  "Wow," he muttered.

  "It isn't easy, David," Larry said. "I felt the exact same way. I didn't know if I could handle it either. When you personally allow yourself to admit that he is not the enemy, then you will completely accept what you already know."

  "And what do I already know?" David asked.

  "That regardless of what Christopher is, without him we cannot win this war," Larry said.

  David nodded. He turned to Chris. "It will be hard for me to trust you for awhile."

  Chris chuckled. "I don't blame you. I wouldn't trust me either."

  "That isn't very reassuring," David said honestly.

  Chris stopped laughing and looked directly at David. "I meant it honestly. I don't know what I am. Am I a man or am I undead? I have lived for almost five hundred years and I have not aged past my early thirties. Taking all that in consideration, I would say that I am a vampire. However, after a night with the vampire queen, I still retain the human frailties that define us. Hence, I would say that I am more man than vampire. It is all very confusing."

  "And you have been dealing with this for five hundred years?" David asked.

  "Yes and I have buried many, many friends along the way," Chris said honestly.

  "I figured that I was not the first of your researchers," David said honestly.

  "No, you were not. When Wolfgang died in battle and Adalric could no longer fight due to age, he became my first researcher. He too died in battle when we were ambushed. Unlike Myles and Father Kinney, he was trained to fight. However, like Father Kinney, he didn't belong on the frontlines. His research, which was based on planted information by the Order of Twelve, led us into a trap. When I became outnumbered, he jumped into the battle. He saved my life by sacrificing his own," Chris stated.

  "Just like Myles," David said solemnly.

  "Yes, very much like Myles," Larry said. "
However, Myles was even more of hero because he ran headlong into a battle that he knew that he couldn't win, but he didn't let that stop him. I have been assured that his death will not be forgotten in the annals of council history."

  David smiled. "Thanks. He always wanted to be a superhero. At least now, he will be remembered as a hero. Now, where do we go from here?"

  Chris sighed. "We go where I have gone for five hundred years, right back into battle. This time, I need you two to do research for me."

  "On what?" Larry asked.

  "You?" David asked.

  Larry smiled. "Yes, my best days are behind me but he needs two researchers. Right now, we cannot risk bringing someone else into the fold. With Myles gone, and may he rest in peace, I will have to step back in. I have already contacted the council about replacing Father Kinney so his parish will continue. I have already moved my collection of books into the archives here in the store. That's my area of expertise. You are the modern man. I will need you to do the electronic research. Together, we might be able to find where she will strike next."

  "Understood," David said. "What else are we looking for?"

  Chris stood. He stretched his tired and sore muscles. "I need several things. Though I have lived through most of it, I need you to document the recorded deaths of the Order of Twelve. Larry, I think that you will be able to find that in our archives. I need to know the location or the approximate location of their tomes. David, search for any church fires or robberies in the last two hundred years and see if you can cross-reference those activities with the expected locations of the tomes, it might give us an idea of how many tomes that she has in her possession."

  "Why do you think that she is collecting the tomes?" David asked.

  "We know that the tomes contain the knowledge of all the vampires of the Order of Twelve. It contains what they learned about themselves…"

  Chris paused. Both men looked at him. They waited for him to finish his thoughts.

  "Chris, what is it?" Larry asked.

  "Research Visigoth's tome and his history first and foremost. I want to know what happened to that tome after I turned it over to the council."

  "Why?" David asked.

  "Where was I turned?" Chris retorted.

  "Oh good heavens!" Larry exclaimed. "He was in a church."

  "I've only known three other vampires to be able to walk on consecrated ground and two of them are dead. The other is…"

  "Our vampire queen," David added.

  "She either has Lord Visigoth's tome or she has read it. If it isn't in her possession, then we have to get it back. If she learns his other power, she will be unstoppable."

  "What other power is that?" David asked.

  "The power that Visigoth used to throw Martin Luther out of the church just by using just his mind," Larry said.

  "That is why I was relentless when I attacked him. I didn't know how his power worked, but I knew that I couldn't let him focus. If she learns that power, she could kill our warriors at a distance."

  "Understood," Larry said.

  Chris turned to leave. David was stunned. They were left doing all the research and he had not indicated what he was going to do.

  "Where are you going?" David asked.

  Chris did not turn around. "To rest and meditate."

  "And what good will that do?"

  "Maybe I can get her out of my head," Chris admitted before he disappeared.

  Both men glanced at each other. Larry began to pull all the known volumes on the history of the Order of Twelve. David dashed back to his store and powered up his laptop. They immediately went to work on finding any clues that might help them to defeat the vampire queen. After Chris' last comment they knew that they had to find something very quickly: The war and Chris depended on them.

  * * *

  Mikhaeli sat in her office. Her office, which was designed with black and purple furniture, was her sanctuary away from the members of her vampire army. Her vampires lived and died for her cause, but there were times when she needed to get away from them. It was also her study hall. She had the tome laid out on her desk and she read merrily. She was dressed in her casual silk lace pajamas. Her clothes matched the design of her room. The dark purple silk was accented with black lace.

  She sipped a perfectly iced blood margarita. She had sent her vampire horde into the city to find a prostitute. She gave them a thousand dollars to find someone with class. She didn't want her blood tainted with chemicals. She had an unfortunate moment recently where she had seduced a body builder in a local night club. He was physically beautiful. She took him home and she had her way with him sexually before she killed him. Unfortunately, his big, massive muscles were not natural. The illegal steroids that he pumped through his veins gave his blood a horrible aftertaste. Since she was in a good mood, she wanted a good drink and her men didn't disappoint her. The high-priced prostitute was clean and she was the right age. Her blood was perfect and her margarita even more so. She sipped merrily and sighed.

  "It is so good being the queen," she thought aloud.

  A knock at the door disturbed her reverie. She uncrossed her shapely legs and she headed towards the door. She threw her purple silk robe over her body. She was becoming increasingly angry. She had given specific orders that she was not to be disturbed by anyone unless she deemed that it was important. She strutted angrily to the door. She pulled it open.

  "What the fuck do you want?" she asked angrily.

  Evan Solis took a step backwards and bowed. "My Queen, please forgive me for the interruption, but I have news from Master Michaels."

  "Hmrumpf," she squeaked. "Who the fuck is Master Michaels?"

  "A…A…Ah, he is…"

  "Fucking spit it out, I don't have all goddamn day!" she complained.

  "Leo insists to be referred to as 'Master' since you promoted him," the young vampire said.

  "Interesting," she said as she returned to her desk. "I will have to speak with Master Michaels. Come in and give me your report. Make it quick."

  Evan Solis entered the room. Fifteen days ago, his parents filed a missing persons' report because he went to a hotel room for a pizza delivery and he never returned home. Mikhaeli was in the mood for some fresh flesh and blood. After having her way with the young man because she had promised him a great tip if he stayed, she fed. However, she was impressed with his youthful stamina so she decided to keep him. Ten days later, there was another police report regarding his family after she had sent him to feed on them. She had hope for him.

  "Master…"

  She cleared her throat.

  "Leo…"

  "That's better," she cooed. "Continue please."

  "Leo has done his search of the limo and he has some findings that he believes that you need to see."

  "And what would they be? I'm not being disturbed over some trash in the car," she said.

  "He said that you really need to witness it personally. He didn't give me any details, My Queen," he said honestly.

  She stared directly at the young vampire. "Very well, inform Master Michaels that I have some reading to do. I will meet the two of you in the garage in an hour. Dismissed," she said as she turned.

  "Umm, My Queen," the young vampire said reluctantly.

  "You're still here?" she asked as she sat down.

  "Yes, My Queen," he replied.

  "Then speak before I rip out your tongue," she said as she turned to a new page in the tome.

  "Master Michaels demanded that you come immediately," he said.

  Mikhaeli placed a silk bookmark in her tome. She pushed the tome away and she slowly rose. She strutted angrily over to the frightened vampire. Her beautiful face smiled. He relaxed until her vampire face appeared. She grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the floor. She slammed him into the wall. Her long, black fingernails dug into his neck. He winced in pain as his blood trickled down her fingers.

  "Now," she hissed, "You are going to deliver a message for me.
Tell Master Michaels that I go where the fuck I want, when the fuck I want and I answer to no one. Is that clear?"

  The young vampire managed a scared nod.

  "Good," she cooed. "Also, be a sweetheart and tell him that if he ever demands to see me again. I will drag his worthless ass outside and stake him to the front lawn. I will watch his wretched hide burn in the morning sun and wait for the rats to come and pick his bones clean. Is that understood?"