Blood Reign

by Harvey W. McCarthy

  She turned the dial, clockwise, two times past zero to five. She turned the dial two times, counterclockwise past zero, until she reached forty-two. Finally, she turned the dial clockwise again past zero until she stopped at twenty. She had seen this particular model of safe in the past. She turned the handle and it remained locked.

  "FUCK!" she bellowed.

  "Obviously, he expired before he gave you what went with twenty," Le Doux said sarcastically.

  "Shut the f…"

  The sound of shattering glass silenced her. That sound was soon silenced by several crashes and a scream. Mikhaeli turned to Le Doux as smoke could be seen flowing into the office.

  "Find out what that is," she ordered.

  He bowed. "We shall feast tonight," he said before exiting the closet.

  She spun the dial again.

  * * *

  He ran. His mouth was dry despite the constant drizzle intermixed with occasional downpours. He grunted as he ran. It was a combination of fatigue and anger. Damien Le Doux had dodged him for centuries. After ending the undead life of Lady Sangre, he looked for Le Doux all over Europe. When he learned that he had hidden on a ship bound for the New World, he immediately set forth for the western colonies. When he arrived, which had been several months after Le Doux due to harsh weather, he discovered that Le Doux was working with the colonists against the British.

  His role in the Council of the Light changed almost immediately when he touched his foot on colonial soil. Le Doux was creating an undead army which was feeding on British soldiers. After initially controlling the war effort, British soldiers would disappear on patrols. The British would claim that the Patriots used hit and hide tactics which went against the protocols of war in the eighteen century. However, it was a ruse to hide that they were being attacked and murdered by vampires. The British government had recruited Council of the Light warriors to serve within their ranks. The council initially refused their request until a message from Chris reached their inner sanctum. Chris became a colonel in the British army with a special unit of council warriors under his command.

  He chased Le Doux across the continent. Whenever he would get close to capturing or killing Damien Le Doux, his warriors would be attacked by legions of vampires or by the very Patriots who he was trying to protect from becoming servants of the forces of darkness. As the war drew to a close, Chris chased Le Doux along the Atlantic seaboard. His warriors fell into a trap. Le Doux had sent the remainder of his vampire army, which Chris thought he had vanquished, to the New England colonies. Chris and his remaining warriors destroyed the remnants of the vampire horde, but Le Doux had slipped through his fingers. However, he wouldn't allow it to happen again.

  Chris crept along Lower Water Street. The front entrance of the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic beckoned as its lights shone through the entrance doors. The florescent lights accented the heavy mist and the increasing fog. Chris smirked as it was the perfect haunting image of fiction intermixing with harsh reality. If the vampires had already arrived, the carnage would be horrific. He knew that this exhibit would draw thousands of visitors and they would be captive prey for the undead creatures of the night.

  He reached the doors. He had kept to the shadows along the building. He took a quick glance around the corner of the double glass doors. The images caused his vampire blood to boil. He saw two vampires ransacking the museum. Irreplaceable historical artifacts were being aimlessly tossed aside. They shattered when they impacted with the hard museum floors. Chris, who had lived and helped write history, could no longer control his anger. He pulled on the door handles and the doors held firmly in place. His rage grew.

  He dropped his backpack. Several vials of holy water shattered as the heavy sack hit the concrete sidewalk. He dashed to a metal trashcan. He picked up the heavy, rain soaked and trash laden container. His shoulders protested at the sudden exertion as he lifted the trashcan above his head. He screamed as he charged towards the door. The vampires, who were alerted to his presence, waited on the other side. He hurled the trashcan through the glass door and the glass splintered. Shards of razor sharp glass flew through the air. The vampires ducked for cover as the heavy trashcan flew towards them.

  Chris grabbed his pack in one motion and flew through the shattered door. He let his anger consume him. He pounded the nearest vampire with several heavy blows. He kicked the vampire in the chest and he flew through a display which advertised the exhibit. As the other vampire approached, Chris threw him his backpack. Instinctively, the vampire caught the canvas bag. He screamed in agony as the soaked bottom of the backpack burned through his hands. He dropped the backpack and wailed. His hands smoked as the leaking holy water sizzled on his skin. Chris slipped stake from his sleeve and slammed into the screaming vampire's chest. His screaming stopped.

  He snapped his attention back to the vampire that he had kicked through the display. As he crawled out from the canvas display, Chris reached into his backpack for his two remaining vials of holy water and his cross. He cringed as his cross had snapped into two pieces. As the vampire regained his balance, Chris hurled the broken cross into the vampire's eye. The holy symbol immediately caused his head to burst into flames. The vampire fell into the canvas display again and the tattered picture of the Titanic burst into flames.

  Two more vampires entered the lobby. Chris grabbed one of his last vials of holy water from his backpack. He removed the stopper and he drank quickly. As the first vampire approached, Chris spat the holy water into his face. The vampire screamed as Chris kicked the second vampire away. As the flesh melted from the face of the first vampire, Chris plunged one of his remaining stakes into his heart.

  He focused on the remaining vampire. He removed his last vial of holy water and his last stake. He placed the items in his pockets as he charged the fallen vampire. The vampire had crashed through another display. However, unlike his partner, the vampire was prepared. When Chris charged ahead, the vampire hooked Chris' ankles and rolled. The sweep kick sent Chris crashing into the reception desk. Blood filled his mouth as his fangs had split his cheek. He tumbled to the floor.

  The vampire flipped to his feet and charged. He slammed both fists into Chris' back. Chris slumped to the floor. The vampire laughed and kicked Chris in the ribs as he crawled to his hands and knees. The vampire hunter slumped again. The vampire grabbed Chris by his hair. Blood and saliva dripped from his chin. The vampire hissed as he prepared for the kill. His pending joy was interrupted by a sudden searing pain. Chris had jammed the last stake into his groin.

  The vampire began to protest, but Chris kicked the stake deeper into the vampires' body. The vampire reached for the stake. Chris grabbed his left arm and twisted. His elbow shattered as Chris drove his palm into the taunt arm. The vampire screamed as Chris ripped the broken arm from his body. Blood sprayed across the rapidly burning room. As the vampire staggered backwards, Chris drained the remaining blood from the limb. The vampire tripped over a fallen, burning display. The flames leapt onto his body and engulfed him. Within seconds, he was pile of foul-smelling ash. Chris tossed the limb into the growing inferno as Damien Le Doux emerged from the office.

  "Bloodheart," Le Doux stated. "It's been awhile."

  Chris snarled and leapt at his long-time foe. Le Doux, in turn, leapt aside and Chris crashed through the curtains that led to the exhibit. Unfazed, he righted himself and charged back out through the curtains. However, Le Doux waited. He shattered the lone Titanic deck chair, a long-time fixture of the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic, across his face. Blood sprayed from his nose and Chris stumbled backwards. Le Doux chuckled.

  "You're getting old," he taunted as the smoke and flames grew.

  Chris, who had fallen to a knee, stood. The yellowish-orange light flickered in the rain that covered his skin. Blood dripped from his mouth and nose. He wiped it away. Even the smell of his own blood enraged his vampire soul. He snarled again and slowly stepped forward. He had underestimated Damien Le Doux.


  "Cat got your tongue, mon ami?" the transplanted Acadian vampire asked.

  Chris approached cautiously. Le Doux stood still. Smoke swirled about him.

  "I am not your friend," Chris said as he leapt again.

  Le Doux was prepared, but Chris, who knew that his foe was dangerous, stopped short of his expected attack. Le Doux, who had braced for the attack, was unable to recover in time. Chris rolled at his feet. He kicked firmly and his right foot connected with Le Doux's left knee. A loud crack told him that the knee cap had either been displaced or broken. Le Doux dropped to a knee. He cried out in pain.

  "HELP ME, MY QUEEN!" he wailed.

  Chris flipped to his feet and twirled. His left heel connected with Le Doux's head. The hard sole of his military issue combat boot opened a gash along his temple. Le Doux's head snapped sideways and he tumbled across the floor. Soot from the burning displays mixed with his blood. Dark lines smeared along the floor as he skidded to a stop near one of the burning displays. He slowly raised himself on his hands and knees.

  "You are powerful, mon ami," Le Doux spat.

  Chris ran, despite his growing fatigue, and kicked Le Doux in the ribs. There was another loud crack and three ribs shot through his skin. He wanted to scream but he began to laugh. Chris approached again, but a red hot piece of metal, that had formally been a display stand, snapped across his left shin. The heated metal burned through his military fatigues and seared his skin. Chris screamed.

  "Powerful, but stupid," Le Doux said as he tried to stand on his damaged leg.

  Chris stumbled backwards. He glanced at the smoldering hole in his pant leg. His skin was burned, but not burning. The glowing metal haunted him. Le Doux held onto the cold end of the metal rod, but the heated end looked like a stove top element on the hottest setting. The red hot metal smoked from his flesh burning off of it. Chris had to think quickly.

  "Frightened, mon ami?" Le Doux taunted. "We share the same blood. You should be one of us."

  "My blood is nothing like yours," Chris said as he continued to stagger backwards. He had to buy time.

  Le Doux continued to press his attack. He swung the heated metal rod wildly. The tip bent under the force of each swing. Chris never took his eyes away from the heated metal. Le Doux staggered with each step. Pain shot through his leg, but the favors that he would receive from the queen for killing their tormentor moved him forward. He backed Chris into a corner. Fire blazed around him. Le Doux prepared for the kill.

  "I shall enjoy this," he said.

  "Think again," Chris retorted.

  Le Doux paused as water streamed from the ceiling. The fire had raged long enough to engage the sprinkler system. The room had heated and the glass bulbs in the sprinklers had shattered. Within seconds, the room, along with its occupants, was drenched. Steam rose from the metal rod as it rapidly cooled from the streaming water. Le Doux angrily tossed it aside and shrugged.

  "Ripping out your throat will be much more enjoyable," he said as he leapt forward.

  Chris was ready. He caught him and he quickly restrained him. Water from the sprinkler poured over them. He whispered in his ear.

  "O God, the Creator of all things, by water and the Holy Spirit you have given," he said.

  "What the hell…ARGHHHHH!" Le Doux screamed.

  Water from a sprinkler sizzled on his skin. Chris repeated his prayer as Le Doux struggled against his grasp. He released the vampire. He fell in a puddle that had formed on the floor. Chris knelt next to him and continued to pray. He made the sign of the cross over the puddle. It began to boil the vampire alive. Le Doux thrashed and thrashed. His skin blistered. The water ate away at his skin until his heart was exposed. Moments later, Le Doux was gone. Chris panted as the water poured over him.

  He blessed himself before he stood. He staggered through the driving waters. He heard a crash emanating from the back office. He broke into a run. Water splashed under his feet. He dashed into the office. Wind whipped into the room. The window was broken. He spied an unconscious man, who was bound to an office chair, facing the window. He ran over to him and spun him around.

  The man's face was twisted in horror. His throat had been ripped out. His arm and fingers had been broken. Chris knew that he had been tortured. His shirt flapped in the wind. Letters could be seen on his chest. Chris ripped open the shirt. 'I know you want me' was carved into the dead man's flesh. Chris snarled. He angrily closed the man's shirt before he leapt out the window and into the driving cold rain.

  His hunt resumed.

  CHAPTER 23

  Two days later…

  Larry yawned. Sleep had been a luxury for the past two days. He had been constantly on the move for the past forty-eight hours. He couldn't even recall the last time that he had slept for an entire night. He left Denver in the middle of the night to fly to Nova Scotia. He worked the entire night on documents provided by the Council of the Light. When they had arrived in Canada, they were immediately whisked away from one airport to another. When they arrived in the Halifax, they were dispatched to a gruesome scene at the medical examiner's office. Before that scene had even settled in, more events had transpired. The dark lines under his eyes were deep and thick. He wiped his face with his hands to try to wrap his brain around everything that had transpired.

  The vampire queen had made his life completely miserable. The destruction that she had wreaked on the beautiful city was immense. Her wrath had begun with her plane. She had fed on the crew and left her minion to take the fall. When he awoke, he battled the police who were investigating the crime scene which only delayed their true investigation. While the police were distracted at the airport, she rose in the medical examiner's office and murdered the staff. As Larry, David, and the police were examining the scene at the medical examiner's office, an explosion rocked the crime lab.

  An extensive investigation was launched and the city was locked down. All off-duty police officers were ordered back to emergency duty. Larry expressed his concerns about locking down the city to every police officer that would give him thirty seconds of their time. Unfortunately, police officers had been killed in the explosion. One of their own took priority over any council matters. Even the officers who knew why Larry was in Canada sympathized with his plea, but they had to find out who had caused the explosion. Larry protested again that he was positive that it was Mikhaeli Lanaova but without proof no one would listen to him. As they examined the remains of the Titanic exhibit and the bodies in the museum, he wondered if they would finally understand.

  Detective Kent Hutchins sipped his coffee. Larry ate a double chocolate doughnut between sips of his coffee. David, who had seen more than enough of Mikhaeli's brutality, was inside the mobile police command center. He used their wireless internet connection to chat with a council scribe to report their findings as well as noting all council intelligence information. Colonel Lees had left the group as he was ordered to return to Shearwater Heliport to coordinate their helicopter units for relief efforts.

  "I think I am going to throw up," a young forensics investigator said as she attempted to document the corpse of the exhibit actor.

  Kent removed the lid from his coffee and dunked half of his plain doughnut into the dark liquid. He allowed the excess coffee to drain from golden cake doughnut before popping it into his mouth. The bags under his eyes and his unhealthy breakfast served as hints of a night without sleep. He watched the young investigator struggling to hold down whatever she had consumed earlier with great indifference. He had seen worse.

  The young forensics investigator jumped to her feet with her left hand over her mouth. She ran through the police tape and disappeared into the street. A pair police officers shrugged and replaced the tape. Larry finished his doughnut and sipped his coffee. Kent shrugged and dunked the second half of his doughnut.

  "Put into service before she was ready," Larry said matter-of-factly.

  "Yep," Kent said, "She had just graduated at the top of her class not more than three we
eks ago. They had her doing office work. She wasn't cleared for field duty. However, when three-quarters of your most experienced investigators are killed and the other quarter is examining that crime scene, everyone and anyone were called into duty. I guess she hadn't seen too many disemboweled bodies."

  "I would assume that she had, but I doubt that she had seen many that had bite marks," Larry retorted.

  "True," Kent said before he put the last piece of his doughnut into his mouth.

  An investigator approached. He was sweating. He dabbed his brow with a cloth. He had a camera around his neck. He shook his head.

  "You can enter the office area," he said to Kent. "I've documented everything."

  "Thank you, young man," Larry said.

  "I thought I had seen everything when they showed us the slides in training, but this is beyond…"

  He paused when he saw the actor's corpse. Bile ran up his throat. He too dashed through the police tape into the street. He passed the other young forensics investigator as she returned. The remnants of his breakfast slipped through his fingers. It caused her queasy stomach to churn again. She turned and followed her fellow investigator to the nearest trashcan. Larry and Kent sipped their coffees as they entered the office.