The Vampire Family

by Kristin Battestella

  Victoria was angry. “But what? I give you everything you want and more. You have the finest education money can buy, and I do not have to explain myself to you."

  "Yes, the money. Where does it all come from? You never work beyond your toying with the dead. The coffin shop doesn—"

  "I have a large inheritance."

  "I didn't ask you to explain yourself."

  "I'm not going to, either.” She crossed her arms. Theodore was just too inquisitive.

  "Are you paranoid?"

  Victoria stood up and flung the table over. The chairs tipped, and the dishes shattered. Theodore was stunned—such anger. Such power.

  "What are you hiding from me?” he whispered.

  Shortly after, on his nineteenth birthday, Theodore received his answer. The sun just set on the cold winter day in 1880.

  "Victoria!” He called her and hung his snow covered outer garments on the coat rack. Hat, gloves, scarf, cloak. She came around the corner, dressed in a short-sleeved gown. Theodore spoke to her in Latin.

  "I see you have been keeping up on your studies.” She took his books and set them on a nearby table. “I have to tell you something."

  "Can it wait?” Theodore reached for the books. “I have a quiz on Medieval English tomorrow. I must study."

  "You do not need to study. You won't be tutored any more. Come, this way, please."

  Victoria led the shocked and confused Theodore to the lone tree in the backyard. Theodore felt the chilling winds and high snow, yet he noticed Victoria seemed unaffected. Sans gloves, Victoria dug through the snow beneath the tree and felt the cold door handle below. Theodore watched in amazement. Victoria yanked open the snow covered door, pulled out an oil lamp, and lit it smoothly.

  The light shined on a set of stairs, and the stone steps seemed to lead even farther into darkness. She led the way down the steps, and Theodore followed. Once he was clear of the door, it slammed shut and locked. Theodore saw the small bolt on the inside of the door.

  How could she have opened the door from the outside if it was locked on the inside?

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  Chapter 21

  Victoria and Theodore continued down the dark stone stairs. Theodore grew colder and shivered. He felt the smooth, stone, cold steps beneath his leather boots. Despite their swift descent, he felt the arid air in his very core. A chill tingled up his spine and remained there until they came to a square stone room.

  "Where are we going?” His whispers echoed in the stone room.

  "You will see.” Her booming voice sounded unnatural, and it hurt Theodore's ears. He said a small prayer for his ears, and Victoria gave him a dirty look.

  She handed him the lantern, and Victoria pushed the wall to the left of the stairs. Her pale and bare arms flexed against the stone. At first, nothing happened. Then Theodore heard the faint rubbing of rock against rock. She gave one final push and the wall slid back.

  Victoria squeezed through the opening, and Theodore followed. He looked back at the stone slab, but through some unknown power, it slid back into place. His fear grew. Thoughts ran through his head like water. He was terrified, but a calming sensation ran through his mind. A voice in his head calmed his fears.

  Don't let fear stop you. Keep going.

  He knew these thoughts were not his own, yet they were in his head. He followed the thoughts, entranced. Theodore continued to follow Victoria as well.

  He held up the lantern. “Do you want this?"

  "I do not need it."

  They walked for infinity it seemed. He was cold and tired, but Victoria was unfazed. They reached another door. Theodore saw the elaborate writings on it, and Victoria put her hand up to the center symbol. The door fluctuated and ripples appeared. The marble appearance dissolved away, and the door became clear.

  Is Victoria a witch? A wizard?

  She made no comment and simply walked through the door. She turned and looked at Theodore. He could see her on the other side, yet he was afraid to cross to the mystical room beyond.

  There is nothing to be afraid of, Theodore.

  Victoria reached through the mysterious plane and offered her hand to him.

  She uses her mind to do these tricks. Fascinating!

  "You can do these tricks, too,” she said. “If you come with me."

  He slowly put up his left hand, for he still held the lantern in his right. He lightly touched her fingertips. They were cold. Not like the snow above, but like a corpse, and Theodore knew the feel of the dead. He withdrew his hand.

  "No,” he said aloud. “If God wanted to give me these gifts, he would have already done so. No."

  Victoria reached out farther and grabbed his arm. She yanked him through the watery door, and Theodore dropped the lantern. It burst on impact, setting the hall ablaze. He looked back at the hot blaze, then turned to the room that now unwillingly housed him.

  The room had a soft red carpet, and it was quite warm compared to its stone entryways. A fireplace crackled on the other side of the room.

  No windows.

  It was stupid of Theodore to look for a window, for he knew how far below the ground they were. However, he had hoped for some means of escape. Although there was no way he could push the stone rocks or the snow blocking his way to freedom. No, not as Victoria had done.

  He heard a whoosh behind him, and the transparent door was gone. He stepped forward but landed on the soft plush rug.

  "Only I know the way out.” Victoria stood by a table next to the fireplace and poured a glass of wine from the ancient and handcrafted bottle. She drank the liquid in one gulp.

  He got up and approached the plush and pampered bed in the corner.

  How did Victoria create this lair for her dark practices? When?

  "Tell me, Theodore.” She poured more of the wine. “Do you want to live forever?"

  "It is unnatural. If God wanted man to live forever, he would have made our fragile bodies unbreakable."

  "Your fragile body. Not mine.” Victoria poured more of the wine to replenish the already gone last shot. “And didn't your own Moses and Noah, Abraham and Adam, didn't they live to be nine hundred and some? Wouldn't you like to prolong your life as they did?"

  "How long?” He asked. All fools want to live a moment longer, especially when they feel they are near the time of death, as Theodore felt he was.

  "However long you want."

  "No. Dying is a part of life. Why prolong the inevitable?"

  Victoria drank every last drop from her glass and then smashed it in the fire. “You are absolutely right."

  She leaped to Theodore's side and plunged a piece of broken glass into his chest. She held his neck and twisted and turned the glass until it was embedded terribly deep. Theodore gasped at the pain.

  "I've pierced your lung. Within the hour, you will die.” She released him, and he fell to the floor on his chest, further embedding the glass.

  "How does it feel?” she taunted. “To know you are a fragile being? A being whose life can be taken at any moment! Your precious God will take you whenever he wants, and no one can change his mind. My God is not like that. He makes me powerful and strong. I can prevent your God from taking you away."

  She picked up another hot shard of glass and slit the palm of her hand. Before she was done making the burning incision, it had healed. He was awed.

  "I can take the pain away, Theodore. I can make it so pain can never come to you again. If you let me."

  She put out her hand as Theodore reached out and collapsed in her arms. Victoria grabbed the bottle from the table and ripped off his jacket and shirt. She poured the wine onto his wound.

  He felt the liquid rush into his body. It was warm, yet cold. Foreign, yet his body could not fight it. The liquid shattered the glass, and Theodore could see all this happening when he closed his eyes, yet he did not know how. The foreign molecules attached themselves to his lung. The pinhole forged by the glass was closed.

  "
Now, Theodore, do you want this?” Victoria asked so sweetly.

  He spoke softly, “Yes."

  She tilted his head back. Her long teeth extended farther, and her eyes turned into black slits surrounded by swarms of colors from brown to red to orange to yellow to green and back again. She sunk her teeth into his neck. Theodore winced, but made no effort to stop her.

  She took in his blood as images passed through his mind. He was flying. He flew through the clouds and up to the stars and beyond. He could feel his heart racing and knew it could not go much longer.

  Victoria dug her teeth in farther, sucking in more sweet juices.

  I feel my life draining from me.

  She sucked harder and harder, and Theodore's heart pounded and pounded and then...

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  Chapter 22

  Theodore felt a deathly silence in his body. It was as if he had no body. He saw only darkness. Felt only darkness. Slowly, he heard blood flowing. He heard it rush into his body. His heart pumped again. Theodore's arms tingled at the filling of this new blood. Victoria held her wrist to his mouth, and her blood ran down his throat.

  Theodore screamed in pain and fear. Blood poured from his eyes, but as quickly and suddenly as it had come, the blood stopped. Victoria took Theodore's hand and led him to a mirror. There, he saw himself as a vampire for the first time. His skin had paled and seemed tighter to his bones. Theodore's eyes changed colors. Green became red, and a single tear of blood trickled from his right eye. His body seemed to be better built than before. Theodore was too awed with himself to notice that Victoria cast no reflection.

  * * * *

  "Becoming a vampire was the best thing that ever happened to me.” Theodore smiled. Angelo cheered, and Slava clapped along with the other vampires at the table.

  Antonio checked his watch. “October, 1971. The sun will be up in an hour or so. I think we all need a good day's rest."

  The sun peaked over the mountainside, and its first morning rays shined on the desperately-in-need-of-repairs Welshire Mansion. All the young ones were asleep. Their rooms, far below the castle, could not catch an inkling of sunlight, and those in coffins need not worry.

  Victoria slept in a bed, as she had done for the past fifty years. Her tastes changed from time to time. Coffin or bed? Bed or coffin?

  She slept soundly, but a soft misty fog crept under the closed door. It slid over the bed and swirled around Victoria effortlessly. She shifted in her sleep, and the mist solidified beside her.

  "I knew it was you, James.” Victoria smiled with her eyes closed.

  "You were worried about me?” He smiled, although he was never certain of his sister's whims and she knew it.

  "Of course. You are my twin brother."

  "There is one small problem.” James rolled onto his back, and his blood-soaked uniform squished. There was a bleeding hole in his chest.

  "A bullet?” Victoria sat up and examined the wound.

  "No, stake.” He winced when Victoria touched the healing flesh. “My Commanding Officer had to be a student of the occult."

  "Did you get him?"

  James shook his head grimly then winced again.

  "You call for Mother.” Victoria got out bed. “And I'll find Father."

  They assembled quickly to solve the wounded James’ troubles. Antonio sat in his seat at the table with Victoria on his left and Elizabeth on his right. James sat beside Catrina and held her hand. She was his first fledgling and the closest thing to a lifelong companion a vampire could have.

  "My vampire friends,” Antonio began. “James has been attacked by a vampire hunter. The hunter must become the hunted. Let the Death Game begin!"

  * * * *

  Outside the encampment of the Ninth Infantry Division, Second Lieutenant Marshall Whitfield looked out on the Southern Vietnamese countryside. He looked across the land to the woods. Four men were supposed to be on patrol, but none of them were in sight. Whitfield heard Run Through the Jungle by Creedence Clearwater Revival in the distance. Maybe one of the men had a portable radio.

  He raised his bandaged arm carefully and lit a cigarette. He puffed a few times and let the smoke out. Through the smoke, Whitfield saw two green lights in the woods and stepped closer. The lights were small. The size of golf balls, perhaps.

  Whitfield chucked his cigarette into the dirt and moved forward. Out of the woods came a lone black wolf, his eyes green with yellow slits. Whitfield froze. He knew wolves never traveled alone, and they were not common in Vietnam, either.

  He received visions in his mind. He relived flashes of his attack on James. Bullets rang out in the thick of battle. James found himself twisted in the wire boundary of the camp. Stephen was there next to him. More shots rang out, and Stephen disappeared. Then Whitfield was there, the stake in his hands...

  Mist.

  Whitfield put his hands on his head and looked at the wolf. Its mouth foamed and snarled.

  The vampire is avenged!

  He dropped to his knees. “No! Make it stop! Please!"

  The wolf charged toward Whitfield. Four more wolves came out of the woods and followed the first. They surrounded him, and he mumbled uncontrollably as the pack circled around him. The visions subsided, and Whitfield came to his senses too late. He was trapped.

  The wolf pack attacked him. They bit his legs and arms, ripped his flesh and muscle. “No! No!” Whitfield screamed. “Somebody help me!"

  A wolf bit his throat. The meddler screamed no more.

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  Chapter 23

  Jean sat alone in his room. It was the first time he had a few moments of silence in a long while. Elizabeth always had him doing something.

  It's gotten old quick, and this friggin sixth sense!

  The door opened and shut behind him in the dark space.

  "What is it now, Elizabeth?” He stood to face his unwanted visitor, but it was Samantha.

  "Elizabeth is not home,” she spoke softly. “Father declared the Death Game."

  "The Death Game? No thanks. I don't want to know. That dungeon downstairs is bad enough!” Jean sat back down, and Samantha sat Indian style next to the inactive fireplace. She put her hand over the wood, and sparks flew out of her hand. Anti-vampire as she was, even Samantha added a twist to her magic from Mestiphles. She removed her hand and watched the fire grow.

  Jean chuckled. “Wish I could do that. You guys need to write a manual or something."

  Samantha smiled. “Being a vampire has its good points."

  He smirked and crossed his arms. “Name one."

  "Well.” She thought for a moment. “Flying can be quite a thrill."

  "Your mother made sure I couldn't fly. I couldn't fly! It sounds so strange."

  "She's not my mother."

  "Elizabeth? Not your mother?"

  "They are married, and I am Antonio's daughter, but my mother is Ann."

  "But I thought...” Jean sighed and gave up.

  "I am the oldest of us children, but Victoria was the first to be made a vampire."

  "You must have a helluva Christmas card list."

  Samantha put more sparks from her fingertips into the fire. “You know we don't do that."

  "Yes.” Jean scratched his head. “But you don't believe that. Any fool with two eyes can see it. Forget this phony sixth sense. You don't believe in all this dark magic mumbo jumbo."

  She kept her head down. “We were granted eternal life by Mestiphles."

  "Oh, please.” Jean flung his hands in the air and paced. “This is some life! We are condemned to haunt this world, to see all we love die. Destroyed, abolished by time and nature."

  "Stop it. You have no right to say such things!” Samantha stood. “You're angry over a year? Such insignificant time. What do you know? Nothing. You don't know anything about it!"

  She turned toward the door, but Jean followed and grabbed her arm. Their eyes locked.

  "I can't do this,” Saman
tha whispered. Her brief anger was gone. Emotions sprang forth from them both. Samantha had yet to let herself fully touch—Jean knew from her hesitant hands. She could spark fire, but after all these years, they had at last awoken each other.

  "Yes, you can.” They kissed deeply. Jean inched her dress off her shoulders, and they slid down to the warm floor before the fireplace.

  * * * *

  The rusted iron gates in front of the mansion were closed, but somebody was playing Bad Moon Rising by Creedence Clearwater Revival inside the walls. The Death Game members flew over the gate and swooped down on the doorstep.

  Antonio entered his home smoothly, and Catrina piled in the door behind James. Victoria followed but stopped. She looked around and squinted her dagger eyes. A vision popped in Victoria's head.

  "Victoria?” Elizabeth put her arm around her daughter and broke the vision. Victoria only smiled at her mother with an impish glint. They entered the mansion, and the door shut behind them.

  Samantha and Jean. Ha!

  * * * *

  Samantha woke, and Jean ran his fingers through her hair. They lay on the pile of their clothes, but Samantha felt the warmth of the fire.

  "I learned your spark trick.” He demonstrated. “I was thinking, are there records somewhere? Chronicles of the family?"

  "Only Father knows where they are.” Samantha pulled her dress over her head. A strange chill went up her spine.

  "Can't somebody read his mind?"

  She spoke quietly, “Others have tried and failed."

  "How?” Jean's eyes widened. “What did they do? Did they find a way to become human again?"

  "We mustn't talk of this.” Samantha looked around. How quickly her enchantment could turn to suspicion.

  "Tell me what happened."

  Samantha felt he was akin to her own heart when he first arrived with Elizabeth, but not until now did their zest for a true companion lead to action. Samantha obliged.

  "It happened centuries ago, before we were all first made. Father was young and inexperienced. Everyone tried to rebel."