by Anne Rice
“Gradually, then, the story began to come. A honeymoon journey, through Germany, into this country, wherever the regular coaches would carry them, wherever Morgan found scenes to paint. And they’d come to this remote place finally because there was a ruined monastery nearby which was said to be a very well reserved place.
“But Morgan and Emily had never reached that monastery. Tragedy had been waiting for them here.
“It turned out the regular coaches did not come this way, and Morgan had paid a farmer to bring them by cart. But the afternoon they arrived, there was a great commotion in the cemetery outside of town. The farmer, taking one look, refused to leave his cart to see further.
“ ‘It was some kind of procession, it seemed,’ Morgan said, ‘with all the people outfitted in their best, and some with flowers; and the truth was I thought it quite fascinating. I wanted to see it. I was so eager I had the fellow leave us, bags and all. We could see the village just up ahead. Actually it was I more than Emily, of course, but she was so agreeable, you see. I left her, finally, seated on our suitcases, and I went on up the hill without her. Did you see it when you were coming, the cemetery? No, of course you didn’t. Thank God that carriage of yours brought you here safe and sound. Though, if you’d driven on, no matter how bad off your horses were…’ He stopped.
“ ‘What’s the danger?’ I urged him, gently.
“ ‘Ah… danger! Barbarians!’ he murmured. And he glanced at the door. Then he took another drink from his flask and capped it.
“ Well, it was no procession. I saw that right off,’ he said. ‘The people wouldn’t even speak to me when I came up — you know what they are; but they had no objection to letting me watch. The truth was, you wouldn’t have thought I was standing there at all. You won’t believe me when I tell you what I saw, but you must believe me; because if you don’t, I’m mad, I know it.’
“ ‘I will believe you, go on,’ I said.
“ ‘Well, the cemetery was full of fresh graves, I saw that at once, some of them with new wooden crosses and some of them just mounds of earth with flowers still fresh; and the peasants there, they were holding flowers, a few of them, as though they meant to be trimming these graves; but all of them were standing stock-still, their eyes on these two fellows who had a white horse by the bridle — and what an animal that was! It was pawing and stomping and shying to one side, as if it wanted no part of the place; a beautiful thing it was, though, a splendid animal — a stallion, and pure white. Well, at some point — and I couldn’t tell you how they agreed upon it, because not a one of them said a word — one fellow, the leader, I think, gave the horse a tremendous whack with the handle of a shovel, and it took off up the hill, just wild. You can imagine, I thought that was the last we’d see of that horse for a while for sure. But I was wrong. In a minute it had slowed to a gallop, and it was turning around amongst the old graves and coming back down the hill towards the newer ones. And the people all stood there watching it. No one made a sound. And here it came trotting right over the mounds, right through the flowers, and no one made a move to get hold of the bridle. And then suddenly it came to a stop, right on one of the graves’
“He wiped at his eyes, but the tears were almost gone. He seemed fascinated with his tale, as I was.
“ ‘Well, here’s what happened,’ he continued. ‘The animal just stood there. And suddenly a cry went up from the crowd. No, it wasn’t a cry, it was as though they were all gasping and moaning, and then everything went quiet. And the horse was just standing there, tossing its head; and finally this fellow who was the leader burst forward and shouted to several of the others; and one of the women — she screamed, and threw herself on the grave almost under the horse’s hooves. I came up then as close as I could. I could see the stone with the deceased’s name on it; it was a young woman, dead only six months, the dates carved right there, and there was this miserable woman on her knees in the dirt, with her arms around the stone now, as if she meant to pull it right up out of the earth. And these fellows trying to pick her up and get her away.
“ ‘Now I almost turned back, but I couldn’t, not until I saw what they meant to do. And, of course, Emily was quite safe, and none of these people took the slightest notice of either of us. Well, two of them finally did have that woman up, and then the other had come with shovels and had begun to dig right into the grave. Pretty soon one of them was down in the grave, and everyone was so still you could hear the slightest sound, that shovel digging in there and the earth thrown up in a heap. I can’t tell you what it was like. Here was the sun high above us and not a cloud in the sky, and all of them standing around, holding onto one another now, and even that pathetic woman…’ He stopped now, because his eyes had fallen on Emily. I just sat there waiting for him. I could hear the whiskey when he lifted the flask again, and I felt glad for him that there was so much there, that he could drink it and deaden this pain. ‘It might as well have been midnight on that hill,’ he said, looking at me, his voice very low. ‘That’s how it felt. And then I could hear this fellow in the grave. He was cracking the coffin lid with his shovel! Then out came the broken boards. He was just tossing them out, right and left. And suddenly he let out an awful cry. The other fellows drew up close, and all at once there was a rush to the grave; and then they all fell back like a wave, all of them crying out, and some of them turning and trying to push away. And the poor woman, she was wild, bending her knees, and trying to get free of those men that were holding onto her. Well, I couldn’t help but go up. I don’t suppose anything could have kept me away; and I’ll tell you that’s the first time I’ve ever done such a thing, and, God help me, it’s to be the last. Now, you must believe me, you must! But there, right there in that coffin, with that fellow standing on the broken boards over her feet, was the dead woman, and I tell you… I tell you she was as fresh, as pink — his voice cracked, and he sat there, his eyes wide, his hand poised as if he held something invisible in his fingers, pleading with me to believe him — ’as pink as if she were alive! Buried six months! And there she lay! The shroud was thrown back off her, and her hands lay on her breast just as if she were asleep.’
“He sighed. His hand dropped to his leg and he shook his head, and for a moment he just sat staring. ‘I swear to you!’ he said. ‘And then this fellow who was in the grave, he bent down and lifted the dead woman’s hand. I tell you that arm moved as freely as my arm! And he held her hand out as if he were looking at her nails. Then he shouted; and that woman beside the grave, she was kicking at those fellows and shoving at the earth with her foot, so it fell right down in the corpse’s face and hair. And oh, she was so pretty, that dead woman; oh, if you could have seen her, and what they did then!’
“ ‘Tell me what they did,’ I said to him softly. But I knew before he said it.
“ ‘I tell you…’ he said. ‘We don’t know the meaning of something like that until we see it!’ And he looked at me, his eyebrow arched as if he were confiding a terrible secret. ‘We just don’t know.’
“ ‘No, we don’t,’ I said.
“ ‘I’ll tell you. They took a stake, a wooden stake, mind you; and this one in the grave, he took the stake with a hammer and he put it right to her breast. I didn’t believe it! And then with one great blow he drove it right into her. I tell you, I couldn’t have moved even if I’d wanted to; I was rooted there. And then that fellow, that beastly fellow, he reached up for his shovel and with both his arms he drove it sharp, right into the dead woman’s throat. The head was off like that! He shut his eyes, his face contorted, and put his head to the side.
“I looked at him, but I wasn’t seeing him at all. I was seeing this woman in her grave with the head severed, and I was feeling the most keen revulsion inside myself, as if a hand were pressing on my throat and my insides were coming up inside me and I couldn’t breathe. Then I felt Claudia’s lip against my wrist She was staring at Morgan, and apparently she had been for some time.
“Slowly Morgan
looked up at me, his eyes wild. ‘It’s what they want to do with her,’ he said. ‘With Emily! Well I won’t let them.’ He shook his head adamantly. ‘I won’t let them. You’ve got to help me, Louis.’ His lips were trembling, and his face so distorted now by his sudden desperation that I might have recoiled from it despite myself. ‘The same blood flows in our veins, you and I. I mean, French, English, we’re civilized men, Louis. They’re savages!’
“ ‘Try to be calm now, Morgan,’ I said, reaching out for him. ‘I want you to tell me what happened then. You and Emily.’
“He was struggling for his bottle. I drew it out of his pocket, and he took off the cap. ‘That’s a fellow, Louis; that’s a friend,’ he said emphatically. ‘You see, I took her away fast. They were going to burn that corpse right there in the cemetery; and Emily was not to see that, not while I…’ He shook his head ‘There wasn’t a carriage to be found that would take us out of here; not a single one of them would leave now for the two days’ drive to get us to a decent place!’
“ ‘But how did they explain it to you, Morgan?’ I insisted. I could see he did not have much time left.
“ ‘Vampires!’ he burst out, the whiskey sloshing on his hand. ‘Vampires, Louis. Can you believe that!’ And he gestured to the door with the bottle. ‘A plague of vampires! All this in whispers, as if the devil himself were listening at the door! Of course, God have mercy, they put a stop to it. That unfortunate woman in the cemetery, they’d stopped her from clawing her way up nightly to feed on the rest of us!’ He put the bottle to his lips. ‘Oh… God…’ he moaned.
“I watched him drink, patiently waiting.
“ ‘And Emily…’ he continued. ‘She thought it fascinating. What with the fire out there and a decent dinner and a proper glass of wine. She hadn’t seen that woman! She hadn’t seen what they’d done,’ he said desperately. ‘Oh, I wanted to get out of here; I offered them money. “If it’s over,” I kept saying to them, “one of you ought to want this money, a small fortune just to drive us out of here.” ’
“ ‘But it wasn’t over…’ I whispered.
“And I could see the tears gathering in his eyes, his mouth twisting with pain.
“ ‘How did it happen to her?’ I asked him.
“ ‘I don’t know,’ he gasped, shaking his head, the flask pressed to his forehead as if it were something cool, refreshing, when it was not.
“ ‘It came into the inn?’
“ ‘They said she went out to it,’ he confessed, the tears coursing down his cheeks. ‘Everything was locked! They saw to that. Doors, windows! Then it was morning and they were all shouting, and she was gone. The window stood wide open, and she wasn’t there. I didn’t even take time for my robe. I was running. I came to a dead halt over her, out there, behind the inn. My foot all but came down on her… she was just lying there under the peach trees. She held an empty cup. Clinging to it, an empty cup! They said it lured her… she was trying to give it water…’
“The flask slipped from his hands. He clapped his hands over his ears, his body bent, his head bowed.
“For a long time I sat there watching him; I had no words to say to him. And when he cried softly that they wanted to desecrate her, that they said she, Emily, was now a vampire, I assured him softly, though I don’t think he ever heard me, that she was not.
“He moved forward finally, as if he might fall. He appeared to be reaching for the candle, and before his arm rested on the buffet, his finger touched it so the hot wax extinguished the tiny bit that was left of the wick. We were in darkness then, and his head had fallen on his arm.
“All of the light of the room seemed gathered now in Claudia’s eyes. But as the silence lengthened and I sat there, wondering, hoping Morgan wouldn’t lift his head again, the woman came to the door. Her candle illuminated him, drunk, asleep.
“ ‘You go now,’ she said to me. Dark figures crowded around her, and the old wooden inn was alive with the shuffling of men and women. ‘Go by the fire!’
“ ‘What are you going to do!’ I demanded of her, rising and holding Claudia. ‘I want to know what you propose to do!’
“ ‘Go by the fire,’ she commanded.
“ ‘No, don’t do this,’ I said. But she narrowed her eyes and bared her teeth. ‘You go!’ she growled.
“ ‘Morgan,’ I said to him; but he didn’t hear me, he couldn’t hear me.
“ ‘Leave him be,’ said the woman fiercely.
“ ‘But it’s stupid, what you’re doing; don’t you understand? This woman’s dead!’ I pleaded with her.
“ ‘Louis,’ Claudia whispered, so that they couldn’t hear her, her arm tightening around my neck beneath the fur of my hood. ‘Let these people alone.’
“The others were moving into the room now, encircling the table, their faces grim as they looked at us.
“ ‘But where do these vampires come from!’ I whispered. ‘You’ve searched your cemetery! If it’s vampires, where do they hide from you? This woman can’t do you harm. Hunt your vampires if you must’
“ ‘By day,’ she said gravely, winking her eye and slowly nodding her head. ‘By day. We get them, by day.’
“ ‘Where, out there in the graveyard, digging up the graves of your own villagers?’
“She shook her head. ‘The ruins,’ she said. ‘It was always the ruins. We were wrong. In my grandfather’s time it was the ruins, and it is the ruins again. We’ll take them down stone by stone if we have to. But you… you go now. Because if you don’t go, we’ll drive you out there into that dark now!’
“And then out from behind her apron she drew her clenched fist with the stake in it and held it up in the flickering light of the candle. ‘You hear me, you go!’ she said; and the men pressed in close behind her, their mouths set, their eyes blazing in the light.
“ ‘Yes…’ I said to her. ‘Out there. I would prefer that. Out there.’ And I swept past her, almost throwing her aside, seeing them scuttle back to make way. I had my hand on the latch of the inn door and slid it back with one quick gesture.
“ ‘No!’ cried the woman in her guttural German. ‘You’re mad!’ And she rushed up to me and then stared at the latch, dumbfounded. She threw her hands up against the rough boards of the door. ‘Do you know what you do!’
“ ‘Where are the ruins?’ I asked her calmly. ‘How far? Do they lie to the left of the road, or to the right?’
“ ‘No, no’ She shook her head violently. I pried the door back and felt the cold blast of air on my face. One of the women said something sharp and angry from the wall, and one of the children moaned in its sleep. ‘I’m going. I want one thing from you. Tell me where the ruins lie, so I may stay clear of them. Tell me.’
“ ‘You don’t know, you don’t know,’ she said; and then I laid my hand on her warm wrist and drew her slowly through the door, her feet scraping on the boards, her eyes wild. The men moved nearer but, as she stepped out against her will into the night, they stopped. She tossed her head, her hair falling down into her eyes, her eyes glaring at my hand and at my face. ‘Tell me…’ I said.
“I could see she was staring not at me but at Claudia. Claudia had turned towards her, and the light from the fire was on her face. The woman did not see the rounded cheeks nor the pursed lips, I knew, but Claudia’s eyes, which were gazing at her with a dark, demonic intelligence. The woman’s teeth bit down into the flesh of her lip.
“ ‘To the north or south?’
“ ‘To the north…’ she whispered.
“ ‘To the left or the right?’
“ ‘The left.’
“ ‘And how far?’
“Her hand struggled desperately. ‘Three miles,’ she gasped. And I released her, so that she fell back against the door, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. I had turned to go, but suddenly behind me she cried out for me to wait. I turned to see she’d ripped the crucifix from the beam over her head, and she had it thrust out towards me now. And out of the dark night
mare landscape of my memory I saw Babette gazing at me as she had so many years ago, saying those words, ‘Get thee behind me, Satan.’ But the woman’s face was desperate. ‘Take it, please, in the name of God,’ she said. ‘And ride fast.’ And the door shut, leaving Claudia and me in total darkness.”
“In minutes the tunnel of the night closed upon the weak lanterns of our carriage, as if the village had never existed. We lurched forward, around a bend, the springs creaking, the dim moon revealing for an instant the pale outline of the mountains beyond the pines. I could not stop thinking of Morgan, stop hearing his voice. It was all tangled with my own horrified anticipation of meeting the thing which had killed Emily, the thing which was unquestionably one of our own. But Claudia was in a frenzy. If she could have driven the horses herself, she would have taken the reins. Again and again she urged me to use the whip. She struck savagely at the few low branches that dipped suddenly into the lamps before our faces; and the arm that clung to my waist on the rocking bench was as firm as iron.
“I remember the road turning sharply, the lanterns clattering, and Claudia calling out over the wind: ‘There, Louis, do you see it?’ And I jerked hard on the reins.
“She was on her knees, pressed against me, and the carnage was swaying like a ship at sea.
“A great fleecy cloud had released the moon, and high above us loomed the dark outline of the tower. One long window showed the pale sky beyond it. I sat there, clutching the bench, trying to steady a motion that continued in my head as the carriage settled on its springs. One of the horses whinnied. Then everything was still.
“Claudia was saying, ‘Louis, come…’
“I whispered something, a swift irrational negation. I had the distinct and terrifying impression that Morgan was near to me, talking to me in that low, impassioned way he’d pleaded with me in the inn. Not a living creature stirred in the night around us. There was only the wind and the soft rustling of the leaves.