The Meridian Gamble

by Garcia, Daniel

  “What did you say?” Vincenzo hisses.

  “No venom, or I won’t be leading anyone into anything. And that’s a promise.”

  And I say it not to Vincenzo, but to the elder vampires who I know are monitoring me. But it’s a mistake, because Vincenzo’s eyes light up with rage.

  “How dare you speak to me that way, you cow! You’ll be lucky if I don’t rip out your throat on this night.”

  He pops out his fangs and moves toward me, and before Roland can stop him, Vincenzo freezes in his tracks. His eyes widen just a bit, and he begins shaking, seemingly involuntarily. Vincenzo falls to the ground, spasming, and I think he’s having some sort of seizure. But from the way he screams, the horrible noise that comes from his mouth, I realize he’s writhing in pain.

  “No. Nooooooo!”

  I’m confused at first, but I realize someone is doing this to him. And it’s not Roland. I can tell from the look on my protector’s face that he realizes the same thing I do; that this is the work of the Elders.

  The attack doesn’t stop. I can almost see Vincenzo’s face turning red in the semi-darkness and the veins bulging out on his forehead. He flails about on the ground, letting out another blood-curdling scream that seems to bring an extra stillness to the rest of the place. For a moment, I think the Elders are going to kill him.

  “What are they doing?” I ask Roland.

  “They’re making him relive every ounce of pain he’s inflicted over the past year. Maybe more. And in the case of Vincenzo, that’s quite a lot.”

  And I try not to smile. It’s the first thing I’ve found to like about these Elders.

  Finally, the arrogant vampire begins to regain his composure. He slowly rises to his feet, looking like he’s going to cry. Vincenzo is covered in sweat, but he brushes aside a lock of hair that’s sticking to his face, and tries to regain some small semblance of his dignity.

  “I told you she was here to see the Elders,” Roland says.

  “Yes, apparently that is the case,” Vincenzo says, looking me over with a newfound respect.

  “Do you still need that drink?” I ask, in a bitchy tone.

  And it’s another mistake. Vincenzo stares at me with anger, in a way that makes me think he’ll burn holes through my chest with his gaze.

  “I think it would be better if I give you a tour of the place. And perhaps we can have a bit of fun in that way.”

  He smiles at me graciously, in a perfected manner that almost seems real. But the anger in his eyes is replaced with a wicked gleam that frightens me.

  “Follow me, please.”

  Vincenzo turns to walk off, almost daring us to keep pace, and we have no choice but to follow.

  The last thing I want is a tour from this guy, but I slowly realize that I’m seeing something perhaps no other Luminos has viewed; the heart of the vampire kingdom. Not unless they were brought here to be killed.

  We near one of the walls that surround an opening to the floor below, and when I look over it, I see there are several potted plants on the lower level, rose bushes and a small tree. Light streams in from somewhere, it seems to be shooting at the plants from all sides, and the trick is fascinating. It reminds me of the way the foliage was lit in the New York tower.

  “Below, we have the garden,” Vincenzo says, in an off-handed manner, already seeming bored.

  “How do you keep them alive down here where there’s no light?”

  “There is artificial lighting, of course. But we also have a series of mirrors that stream light from above, from locations that are secure to us.”

  “They can bring in so much light, it makes it look like daytime down here,” Roland says. “But, of course, they prefer to keep it dark and dreary.”

  “Are you giving this tour, or am I?” Vincenzo hisses.

  And Roland says nothing. I worry that I’ve destroyed the goodwill that had existed between them, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. But after a few steps, Vincenzo’s demeanor brightens again, and he looks to me with a smile.

  “How lucky we are to so quickly come upon something interesting in our little tour. These, my cherished Meridian, are our playpens.”

  He takes us down a long, low corridor that is just off the opening that overlooked the trees. It’s much darker here, and I can barely see where I’m going. I can’t even see any doors, but Vincenzo takes me to what must be the first one, and opens an old-fashioned grate on it, so that we can look inside.

  There’s a pretty young woman tied up in a chair, and a handsome young man is circling her. He has on a white shirt, which is spattered with blood, and tight black pants. He’s beautiful, and looks like one of the bright young executives from the agency, or maybe a model, and has hair that’s cropped short and slicked back.

  And the girl in the chair is sobbing.

  “Timothy is a very naughty boy. He loves to play with his food. He romances his prey, seduces them as if he was just another bright and successful college boy on a tour of France. And after they have fallen completely in love with him, he confesses his secret, and begs them to join him in the eternal life. And when they finally agree, he brings them down here. But imagine their surprise when they realize there’s no eternal life to be had. At least not for them. They’re only his next meal.”

  “And does he never feel anything for them? Is he totally devoid of emotion, or are vampires capable of feeling love in some way?”

  From inside the room, Timothy smirks at me.

  “We save our love for other vampires. To bestow it upon our food would be a waste,” he says, turning to Roland with a look of disappointment.

  “And he never changes his mind and grants them the transformation?”

  “His turn has not come as of yet. But when it does, we will all have to wait a long while, because we’re quite certain that Timothy will be slow to decide. Or he’ll barter his gift for some favor from one of our brethren, because he seems to enjoy his game quite dearly.”

  And from inside the room, Timothy smiles once again.

  “How sad that the joke’s on him. At least this way their suffering ends, while poor Timothy is stuck being an insufferable prick for all of eternity.”

  I don’t know why I say it, I can’t stop myself. It’s foolish to taunt the vampires in the heart of their evil. And I watch, as Timothy lunges toward the door. And he must be a young vampire, because Roland is not afraid of him in the least. He raises his hand, and shuts the grate on the door, telepathically. And from the other side come the muffled noises of what sounds like Timothy, flying across the chamber.

  Vincenzo glares at him, but I can see a smile crack on Roland’s face.

  “Lest you think we’re completely cruel, sometimes we do allow a particularly strong human specimen to receive the gift of becoming a vampire. But it’s only after they’ve proven their endurance. And they must have a very strong constitution, indeed, because some of our brethren can be quite aggressive with their prey. After years of being an immortal, one gets bored, and we have to become particularly creative to amuse ourselves.”

  Vincenzo comes to the next door and opens the grate, and hesitantly, I look inside.

  The room is barren, but there are several inches of grimy water covering the floor, stretching from wall to wall. A young man with shaggy hair is suspended from the ceiling in shackles, and his dangling feet rest in the water. He’s naked, and probably passed out, but I can’t see his face.

  A muscular man with a bare torso walks around him, holding some sort of electric prod, and a whip. And he doesn’t have to bare his teeth for me to know he’s a vampire. He lowers the tip of the prod into the water, and an electrical pulse courses through it, which makes the boy twitch. But with his stronger constitution, the vampire doesn’t so much as flinch.

  The boy rouses and screams in pain, as the vampire whips him viciously. And he proceeds to lick the blood from his wounds, running his hands over the young man’s body from behind.

  And when
he’s done, the vampire moves even closer, and begins to unfasten his pants.

  I divert my eyes, not wanting to see what else he’s about to do next.

  “I don’t need to see this,” I say.

  “No? Well, perhaps I can find something more to your taste.”

  Vincenzo closes the grate on the door, and moves on. He smiles and looks my way every once in a while, and I can see the glimmer of excitement in his eyes, which must be a bad thing. He continues on, and Roland doesn’t seem to want to challenge him, so I take a deep breath and follow.

  Our host takes us down another hallway, and I can hear muffled sounds coming from the doors that we pass. I don’t want to think about what’s going on behind them, what kind of new and unimaginable tortures are being inflicted. Vincenzo finally stops at another door, and opens it with a mischievous grin, and gives a sidelong glance my way. And he slowly opens it.

  “We call this one ‘the Box.’”

  I follow him inside, and the room is startling at first. It’s all white and spotless, and stands in sharp contrast to the rest of the dark and dusky chambers of the catacombs that we’ve walked through. The walls are painted white, the floor is covered in white tiles. Lighting fixtures are imbedded into the walls, electric ones, so it would seem that not everything down here is run on candles, and it gives the room an almost modern feel, at least compared to the rest of the place.

  At the center is a table, with a long white box on top of it. Several thin metal spikes are coming out of it, and where there aren’t needles, there are tiny dots on the surface of the box for them to be stuck through.

  As we get closer, I can hear it; a low, muffled sound emanating from within. At first, I think there might be an animal inside, but then I realize the sounds are human, perhaps from someone who has had his or her mouth gagged or taped shut. And they’re whimpering in pain.

  And what Vincenzo does next is almost too fast for me to see.

  There are several needles lying on the table, and he grabs one and stabs it through quickly with a wicked smile on his face. And from inside, I can hear the screams growing louder, if only for a few moments, and eventually they subside, from the person most likely passing out from the pain.

  I realize I’ve seen this hideous device before, in another life, on a stage in London. It’s a version of the contraption I damned Philippa Middleton to enter, where she met the end of her life as the audience watched on with glee.

  I feel sickened, and try to hide the nausea that threatens to overcome me. Which, I’m sure, is exactly the reaction Vincenzo wants. He must be able to detect the hint of discomfort on my face, though I’m not sure if he knows the real reason it’s there. I’m not sure how much he knows of my past life as Caroline, or if he realizes I’m Saga at all, though I wouldn’t be surprised if my being here isn’t a coincidence.

  And Vincenzo begins to babble.

  “This is a wonderful little toy we’ve developed over the years. We use it as the final test for those who wish to become vampires. If they can survive 10 pins in the box over a 24-hour period, we allow them the gift of immortality. But there’s a twist, of course.”

  “And what would that be?” I say, afraid to ask.

  “Five of the pins are inserted by the maker. Or potential maker. But the others are done by five of our brethren, chosen randomly. So we vampires need to be very nice to one another, or whenever we try to grant immortality, our enemies will stick all their pins straight through the heart.”

  He takes another, and sticks it into the box with lightning speed, and just a bit of flourish, as though he’s putting on a show. Vincenzo reaches behind the box, and pulls out a goblet that’s resting on the table. There’s some sort of spigot on the side, and when he opens it, red fluid comes pouring out. He tips the glass against his lips, and smiles in delight.

  “Ah … somehow, the blood tastes it’s freshest when it’s harvested this way, though I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s all the adrenaline that courses through the veins. Would you care for some, Roland?”

  He passes Roland the glass, and my protector takes a sip, eying me over the cup. But I’m not sure what to think. Part of me feels that he’s going along with this, just to put on a show, so as not to offend Vincenzo any more than I already have. And part of me wonders how many of these cruel games he’s taken part in over the course of his long life.

  “So, if all vampires go through this, does that mean you survived the box?” I ask.

  “Well, of course,” Vincenzo says. “In fact, I am the only one to have survived a pin through the heart.”

  It sounds awful, but he seems completely unaffected by this.

  “That must have been very hard on you,” I say.

  Vincenzo only shrugs.

  “It was my destiny to become a vampire, to have survived my maker’s enemy. And what are a few moments of discomfort in exchange for a lifetime of pleasures. It was a small price to pay.”

  And I want to kill him. I want to do what his maker’s enemy couldn’t do. More than any other vampire I’ve encountered, I want to put an end to Vincenzo’s existence, because he’s a monster.

  And he lifts another needle from the pile.

  “The one inside now is mine, actually,” Vincenzo says. “And my pet is doing quite nicely. We’re down to the final two pins.”

  He turns to Roland.

  “They both belong to me, but I’m willing to share if you’d care to do the honors, Roland.”

  Roland doesn’t hesitate. He looks me in the eyes, and never breaks our gaze, as he plunges the needle into the box. More horrifying screams ensue from within, and I can’t help but to notice that the point he stabs through is in the area of where I imagine the arm to be. So in his own way, perhaps Roland takes mercy.

  Vincenzo picks up another pin, and turns to me.

  “One more. Meridian, would you care to take part in the game? I don’t want to be a selfish host.”

  “I’m not sure that I’m strong enough.”

  “Oh, they’re quite sharp. We design them that way. If you give a hard enough push, they slide through the flesh like butter. It’s magical. Please, do give it a try.”

  “Why not?” I say. “I can hardly refuse such a generous offer. Or such a delightful host.”

  I take the pin from his hand, and Vincenzo looks surprised. He laughs, looking to Roland with a smile.

  “Oh, this one has spunk! I like that,” he says. “Perhaps I was too hard on you, after all.”

  “Where is this person’s head?”

  “To your right,” Vincenzo says.

  And I look to Roland, who nods his head, telling me Vincenzo isn’t lying. And our host narrows his eyes, considering me, carefully.

  And he watches me, more than just a bit curious. I’m sure that Vincenzo thinks I’m going to take my revenge and kill his precious pet. And, indeed, at first I walk toward the head, and smile as I run the pin over where the heart must be. Yet, slowly, I change my direction.

  I go to the other end of the box, to one of the holes where I think the feet are, and plunge the needle through. I only hope I aim right, and that if this is the last one, I can end the torture for the person inside, and grant them their dream of becoming a vampire. I hope that I hit a spot that will give them the least amount of pain.

  But as I press the needle in, the pin stops, and Vincenzo clucks his tongue.

  “No, no, no,” he says. “That will not do. It must go in all the way.”

  And I bring the palm of my hand down on it, pushing the pin through in a way that causes him to smile. And from inside, the screams continue.

  “Good show! Very nicely done,” he says. “There may be hope for this one, yet.”

  He applauds me, even though there’s more screaming. I hope the person inside is counting, and that they know they’ve finally reached freedom. I hope I’m not unleashing another monster on the world, who’ll be as cruel and vicious as our host, after their transformation. But Vincenzo looks
to the box with an exaggerated expression of concern, and starts counting on his own.

  “One, two, three, four … oh, no! Did I say that was 10? I’m afraid it only nine. We need one more.”

  And he takes another pin, and plunges it in quickly. And I don’t have to ask to know exactly where it’s going. Vincenzo stabs it in the place that’s right over the heart. The screams that emanate from within are very loud for a moment, louder than they have ever been, but they stop, abruptly, and I’m almost certain the person inside has died.

  Vincenzo looks to me, coldly. And I can’t believe his cruelty, especially for someone who had suffered the same fate.

  “Why?” I say. “Why would you do that?”

  “I, too, like my games. I survived a pin through the heart, and so must my pets, if they want to tag along with me through eternity. And so far, none have. But that’s all right, attachments make you weak,” Vincenzo says. “It’s all for the best, anyway, because I’m still thirsty.”

  He opens the spigot once more. Vincenzo fills the glass, and takes another long sip.

  I look to Roland, but I’m not sure what to say. It’s disgusting, and a part of me can’t help but to think that I caused this by trying to show mercy, or that Vincenzo might have saved this one, if not for my rebelliousness. Maybe he wanted to demonstrate that even a favored human can come to an end in this place. And I wonder if the person in the box was a man or a woman, if they loved him as deeply and blindly as I have Roland and Adam.

  But before I can ponder my guilt much longer, our host looks up, and stares off into the distance, and we can all sense something. It almost feels as though the walls of the chamber are trembling, and I’d swear Vincenzo looks scared, if only for a moment. He turns back to us.

  “The Elders will see you now,” is all he says.

  He leaves the room quickly, without so much as a glance back for the person he just murdered. And my stomach sinks, as I realize where it is we’re about to go.

  Vincenzo takes us down a dark stairwell that’s almost pitch black, and I’m sure he’s irritated that I have to take the steps slowly. We go to the lower level, the one where the plants are, and I catch a glimpse of them from the corner of my eye, before we turn away. I wonder if it’s some sign of prestige to live on this floor, to have such beauty close by, or if it’s just some bit of irony they enjoy, to have a speck of nature growing in this godforsaken place.