“That’s right fella; you picked on the wrong girl.” She slapped him so hard that she knocked him down, cracking his jaw. “How do you like it?”
Stanley tried to run but she tripped him and he fell on his face. He tried again and she tripped him again. Lauren let him stand and watched as he pulled a gun, she kicked it out of his hand and it bounced and slid into the darkness. He then pulled a knife and tried to slice her and she showed him her fangs; he tried to run again and again she tripped him. The mouse had turned into the cat. He screamed and again attacked her with the large Bowie and she kicked him and he went flying into the boxes. Again he attempted to flee but this time when she tripped him he landed on the knife and the blade went into his heart, he died almost instantly.
The destroyer of lives had been destroyed. She called the officer and told him where he could locate the body.
Lauren then called Michael, retrieved the gun and blurred off into the New York night.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
IN THE MIDDLE OF AN OLD FIELD away from the rural highway several chickadees chased one another around the old abandoned house surrounded by tall grass. The scent of wildflowers and sulfur was in the air as the wind moved the branches of the nearby oak tree. The small rickety dwelling was no longer deserted as the wizard Dorian sat on its beaten porch dejected. The house was several miles from the nearest neighbor off the rural highway, with its long driveway overgrown and almost undetectable.
Dorian was just over five and a half feet tall with deep set blue eyes. He looked young and quite handsome except that his hair was gray. He observed the hay swirl with waves of wind. He’d been sitting there for just over two hours as he remembered his brother chasing him through the tall grass when they were kids. Time had a way of meshing memories over a long period and even distorting them. The bad recollections had been minimized.
“One day follows another until we can’t stand it anymore.”
Dorian had searched off and on for over three hundred years for his identical twin brother Lemuel. Together their wizardry fed off one another and magnified their abilities placing them at the top of the ladder of wizards, but now apart he figured that he had lost almost 40% of his energy. They had boosted one another from birth. Lemuel had disappeared on a foggy Sunday night in the year 1694 in the vicinity of the Upper New York Harbor. The fog that night had been the result of a magical enchantment, thicker than mud. They had lost one another in the fog and that was the last time he’d ever seen his sibling. His shouts of LEMEUL went unanswered. They had been there to meet another wizard, to pay for a powerful spell but it had only been a trick. There was no enchantment, only deception. Fog now brings Dorian a sense of dread with its murkiness and keeps him from slumber.
Lemuel had been warned not to raise the dead that he would be dealt with harshly, but he had been motivated to raise zombies to do his bidding. Even the threat of being buried alive hadn’t fazed him because he was certain that it would never happen. He thought himself too smart to be caught off-guard. There had been five powerful wizards back in those days that had formed a union of sorts and had taken it upon themselves to deal with the miscreant wizards by binding them and burying them alive for all eternity. There was no fate worse than being buried because a wizard could only sleep for so many hours a day, life with absolutely nothing to accomplish was horrible indeed.
Dorian stood and stared off into the puffy white clouds. Time was different for vampires but sometimes it could be worse than it was for humans. His journey through the streets of life had been fraught with head-on collisions and traffic jams. Now his discontent was tantamount to the highest mountain; his dark soul devoid of meaningful life. His thoughts always pulled him back to the same subject.
A car went down the rural highway so fast that it was practically flying. When he heard it crash several miles down the road he had to smile. “Fool.”
Sometimes in his dreams he would go into the coffin with Lemuel, into the darkness with his brother which wasn’t completely dark for a vampire, but could take nothing from it. No hint to its location. No communication possible. Whether it was real or simply a nightmare he couldn’t say, except that even after three centuries he would occasionally tap into his brother’s fear, being buried alive was not something one could get accustomed to, where time became ones worst enemy. The more he thought about it the more it did seem to be too real for an ordinary dream, to be trapped in such a way was unfathomable. He thought his brother must be quite mad after all that time in a box.
Dorian and Lemuel had always been close, brothers in the flesh and spirit. Although Lemuel had always had a nastier side to him still they got along, the occasional fight never endured for more than a day or two. Most of the awful deeds that they had accomplished originated from Lemuel; however Dorian was more than happy to go along with his brother’s ideas. Kill and torture this one or that one. Because Lemuel had been so good at being bad Dorian didn’t need any of his own ideas. It hit him hard when he could no longer look into Lemuel’s eyes for comfort. He fed off his brother like bedbugs feeding off humans. He promised that he’d never give up the search and he never did.
The wizards that had set upon his brother buried him some twelve feet into the earth; they were smart enough not to place him into any cemetery where he could perhaps be located. They had broken his physical connection with his brother but the emotional bond was stronger than any magic. Dorian had always had a strong link to his brother; he could sense his location anywhere, but not once since he disappeared all those years ago. It continued to feel strange not being able to sense Lemuel. Like a cell with no battery power there was no reception. He managed to kill two of the five wizards but it didn’t do him any good as they wouldn’t talk, even under horrible torture they wouldn’t reveal his location. The other three fled and were never heard from again, he had never been able to track them down.
Lemuel was a hole in his fabric of time and space.
Dorian had been at the small red abandoned house for seven weeks; he wore a path around it thinking about his brother. He had had several items that his brother wore and a lock of his brother’s hair but now all that remained was two strands, with the rest being used with magic in attempts to locate him. Each enchantment necessitated an item that had touched his brother, which could only be used once. He knew that once the last strand of hair was used then that would probably be it; he would remain buried practically forever, perhaps until the end of time. It weighed on him. He had attempted many spells over the years, gathering ingredients from all over the world, and with the passage of time he became more and more depressed. He was his brother’s only hope.
A monarch butterfly flew near him, up and down. Dorian brought his hands together killing the butterfly. He rubbed the remains off onto his blue jeans. He took no satisfaction in the murder of the butterfly.
Dorian didn’t understand why the spells in his Blood Book didn’t work. That made him worry that there wasn’t a proper one to be found. The last one had been two eagle feathers attached to one a strand of hair, which the magical wind took high into the air, but he lost sight of it near the cabin. The idea was that it would drop onto his brother’s grave and then he could dig him up, but even with his speed and enhanced sight he lost it in the wind. Dorian believed that it was possible Lemuel was buried in the area, but was he a mile away or fifty? Maybe he was close, maybe not.
A large storm cloud went over the area blocking the sun, sprinkling the area with rain. He blurred around the small red house with the twisted roof to get rid of the glue that permeated his mind. Who else would have stuck to the same task for hundreds of years? Dorian did go periods of time without trying to find Lemuel but he always went back to it, and usually it was the nightmare that prodded him into action. Was it his brother’s attempt to reach him from inside that box? At times he was convinced that it was and other times simply his imagination.
A cow moose was detected and chased down for its blood. Dorian jumped
on its back and drank from it. The animal panicked but could not escape as the vampire drank. When he jumped off it he watched as it ran off never to return to that area. At least that had been satisfying. He actually preferred animal blood to that of a person’s as he liked the wild taste had a wild taste.
It was sparse inside the dwelling, only a couple of chairs and a kitchen table, an old wood stove and a comfortable new cot that he had purchased at Sears. The Blood Book remained on the table opened to the eagle spell. Dorian was considering doing the same spell over again, with the idea that he was now closer to his brother and so it would perhaps be easier for him to follow the feathers. It made sense but with only two strands remaining it made him uneasy. If he used another and it didn’t work he would be on the very last one. There was nothing else that remained. Until now he always had hope that something would work, but with the hair being used up there would be no hope. Without hope life was in free-fall, one cliff after another.
Dorian sat at the table, took two of the eagle feathers and placed them about four inches apart. He took the small plastic bag containing the last two strands of hair out of his right pocket; only he was panicked to see only a single strand remaining. He took off his jeans so that he could carefully search not only inside his pockets but every inch of the material but he was unable to locate it.
“No!” He meticulously scanned every inch of the kitchen and then the small dirty bedroom. He was becoming more and more disheartened by the second. What were his chances of finding a single strand of hair? What if it was outside? He thought that he may as well be searching for a particular drop of water in the ocean. His level of anxiety made him want to cry. Dorian ran his head into the table while scanning the floor, stood up rubbing his forehead, and then he had a thought that sunk his ship. If he somehow managed to find a stand of hair, it was actually more likely to be his than his brother’s.
Dorian made his way outside and sat dejected on the porch, considering that it might be a relief when the last hair was used, that he would finally be able to get on with his life. But knowing that Lemuel was down there somewhere, buried alive, he knew that he would probably never find peace. With his right hand he set the field on fire, but then thinking better of it he extinguished it with his left.
Time wasn’t his friend and seemed it never would be. He pulled several strands of hair out of his head and tossed them into the wind. Funny how a single strand of hair had caused him such distress.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
ALEXANDER AND HIS DOG TESSY battled an ancient vampire by the name of Caleb. He had been stalking two teenage girls when Alexander tried to talk to him and he attacked. He was over a thousand years old and had mastered his swords; he was as comfortable with them as he was with his hands. He wielded the two old swords with eagle pommels and his skill was extraordinary. Caleb was tall and skinny, a distinguishing looking gentlemen with his goatee, but he was far from a nobleman. He cut off Tessy’s left ear but it grew back, and for his effrontery she bit a chunk out of his right calf and tossed it. The red sheriff didn’t have sufficient reason to kill him, but now had to try to end him just to survive the encounter.
Blade met blade in a furious battle. The fight was art in motion, two experienced swordsman battling for their lives; thrust, parry, attack. Power and great skill was unleashed by both of them. Within seconds they were impressed with one another’s talent, even surprised. Neither liked the fact that they were evenly matched. Every single blow that Alexander swung at him was deflected and countered. The sound of Caleb’s sword cut through the air as he held his perfect position. No words were uttered as they spoke with their blades. But Caleb’s had a problem, a big one. The dog made it two against one; she jumped and sunk her fangs into the back of his neck as Alexander attacked from the front. The sheriff took his head off and watched as his skin turned to dust and his bones fell to the ground. Tessy grabbed the skeleton and shook it.
She had her fangs stuck into the back of his head and had to release them to get them out; she pried them out using both of her front paws for leverage. The dog ran to Alexander with a wagging tail for affection. “Good girl Tessy. That’ll teach him to cut your ear off.”
Tessy barked several times at something in the distance; he turned and saw it but was having trouble believing what he was seeing. A skeleton that was on fire was walking through the park. Its flames was emitting a black smoke that was going straight up into the air, even though there was a moderate wind that should have been pushing at it. It was obviously a magical thing that was probably not selling Girl Scout cookies. Danger came in different forms with many considering magic the worst.
“Tessy, it would be nice to get a break wouldn’t it? Come on, let’s go see.”
The sheriff and his dog blurred over to the ungodly thing as it stopped. It took note of the vampire and his dog but decided to ignore them. It was trying hard to orient on the wizard it had been chasing but was having a difficult time of it. Sitting on the grass with several other people, the wizard Adoros had eaten a small spelled packet that temporarily changed his energy signature to that of a mortal. Even though the skeleton had pursued him for several miles, it no longer recognised his wizard’s magical properties. The sorcerer was only four feet away from his pursuer but now he went unnoticed. The skeleton was unable to recognise his face even though he had seen it.
Alexander and Tessy both looked confused. Unless it attacked someone they wouldn’t battle it. The sound of the flames burning was fairly loud, and as people noticed it they ran in the opposite direction. The sheriff attempted to read its mind but couldn’t, perhaps there was none to be read. He considered that it just might be what turned both him and his dog to bones, magic was a difficult thing to deal with, and if the thing was as nasty as it appeared they could be in big trouble. He pulled his cell phone and called the only wizard that he knew but of course there was no answer.
The dog sniffed at it and the only thing she could smell was a combination scent of burning fuel and vomit. She cocked her head at it trying to understand what it was. The shepherd considered biting it but decided to wait for the command. Tessy could sense the evil in it and was confused by the small skulls that occasionally appeared inside its flames.
“Come here often?” Alexander said to it. He didn’t expect a response but thought that he would try anyway. It didn’t have a mouth to form words in the normal sense.
It cursed at him and then added, “Go away vampire.”
The sheriff’s eyebrows shifted. There was obviously some intelligence there. Could it be someone had been turned into that thing? Alexander had no knowledge of such a monster and was unsure of what to do next. “Where did you come from? What are you doing here?”
“Mind your own business vampire. This is your last warning. Your fangs won’t protect you.”
The sheriff took a couple of steps back and simply observed. He wondered what a bullet would do to it. In any case he was going to follow. The front page of the New York Times would certainly be an interesting read tomorrow if anyone got a shot of it. The concealed wizard was aware that the spell that cloaked him was slowly wearing off; tiny particles of his energy were now escaping. Those fiery bones were detecting the particles, but with so little of it he couldn’t zero in on it. It was becoming angrier and more annoyed by the second. It threw fire at Alexander and he dodged it.
“Wait Tessy, I know you want to attack it but I have a bad feeling about that damn thing. Just wait. I need to think.”
The dog growled deep down in its throat.
The bones threw a ball of fire at the dog and she dodged it, barking viciously at it, revealing her fangs; a human would have run as fast as it could to escape that scary sight. It laughed but stopped suddenly. A little more of the wizard’s energy was being released, tiny purplish blue particles floating in the air to the skeleton, but it couldn’t track it back to its source. The wizard Adoros was tempted to flee but they were evenly matched in speed and he was fort
unate to have made it as far as he did. He considered that if the sheriff attacked it that might be a big enough diversion for him to escape, but all he could do was wait and hope.
A jogger that had entered the area couldn’t believe his eyes. The young fellow in yellow was sure they were filming a movie but as he couldn’t see any cameras he approached; he was attacked by the skeleton and set on fire, in less than a second nothing but ashes remained. He hadn’t even had time to scream.
Alexander and Tessy attacked. The sheriff’s sword went right through the flames and passed through its bones without making contact, as if fighting a ghost. Tessy grabbed its femur but was set aflame by the act and she fell and squealed it as consumed her. Her body attempted to heal itself but it was evenly match by the healing and tearing down of the fire. She lay prone on the grass as her beautiful fur burned. Alexander shot it several times but it solved nothing, it didn’t react to the bullets. Every energy source that it consumed made the thing stronger and helped it to evolve.
Dracula: Hearts of Fire (Dracula Heart's) Page 25