The Grateful Boys

by Françoise DuMaurier

  “The what?” Hailey asked. Before he could answer, he grabbed her by the hand and they ran toward the pool party. They were back at the area surrounding the pool. Alobard, Jacobus, and Gabriel stood at a table filled with empty shot glasses.

  Each of the three vampires held a knife. They slowly sliced their inner forearm long ways. As they did this, they allowed their blood to drip into the shot glasses. They walked around the table, allowing the dripping blood from their arms to pour into every glass.

  Moments later, their wounds self-healed.

  “What is going on?” Hailey asked.

  “This is the beginning of the first half of the Surrender. Watch,” Percy instructed her.

  “And now!” Alobard shouted. Everyone at the pool party – the guests in the hot tub, the kids in the pool, the ones at the buffet, all turned to face him. “Now we begin the Surrender. The sacrificial offering of the vampire.”

  His incisors turned to fangs. Gasps and whispers erupted throughout the backyard of the manor. Immediately there was the realization that a real vampire – several, walked among them.

  “Enough!” Alobard commanded and every face looked toward him. “I am a 500-year-old vampire and I am not here to harm you. I am here to offer you a sacrifice, which all of you will take willingly. For I offer you, with my sacrifice, the blood of the vampire, the dark angels who roam the earth.” As he spoke, he conducted a crowd hypnotism on everyone but Hailey.

  “Are you really dark angels?” Hailey asked.

  “No,” Percy answered. “Not in any literal sense. But it is a symbolic term we use.”

  “So come, my children. And feast upon the blood!” Alobard commanded. Each and every teenager stood from where they were and walked toward the tables. Hailey watched as Jacobus and Gabriel nodded toward one another. One by one, the guests took a shot glass and drank the vampiric blood – taking part in stage one of the Surrender.

  “Feast, my children,” Alobard said softly as guests drank. “Take my blood as your own.”

  As each guest consumed the blood, Hailey could sense the wonder and euphoria spread across the crowd. Just a few drops in each glass was enough to intoxicate all who participated. The guests were full of smiles and flutters as they stared into the sky and gazed into the lines of their palms. Their senses became acute as they wafted the air – inhaling through their noses and exhaling through their mouths.

  “Feel free in your inhibitions, my children,” Alobard commanded. “Go forth and live from this day forward.”

  The last remaining guests consumed the last few shot glasses of vampire blood when Alobard spoke again. “Now, we move to the second half of the Surrender. Now that the sacrifice of the vampire is complete, we move on to the sacrifice of the human.”

  Hailey gasped, clasping her hands to her mouth. “Did he just say the sacrifice of the human?”

  “Yes,” Percy answered with a smirk as they stood aside. “But it’s not as bad as it sounds. No one is going to die tonight. That’s not what we do.”

  Alobard, Gabriel, and Jacobus all stood side by side at an arm’s length distance. They each outstretched their arms. The crowd began to line up. Three lines formed – a line in front of each vampire.

  “Now come forward as you offer yourselves,” Alobard said.

  The first person in each line approached the vampire in front of them. They raised their heads, exposing their necks, and Hailey knew exactly what was to come. Each of the vampires exposed their fangs and bit into the necks of their guests. The sucking of the blood only lasted for a moment before the vampires released their fangs from the necks of their guests. Each person who gave blood to the vampires returned to the pool party.

  This continued with guest after guest. The vampires sank their fangs into each guest – male and female, but only momentarily. Hailey gasped with hesitation when she watched as Madison and Tara were fed upon. Alobard sank his fangs into Tara. She moaned as he sucked on her neck. While Jacobus drank from Madison. Hailey’s shock didn’t last long. The vampires were finished with them just as quickly as they were with the others. Eventually the line shortened and only a few remained. Although they couldn’t have gotten much blood from each guest, Hailey figured each vampire could get full from doing this to so many people.

  “Why not just drink from one person?” Hailey whispered as the Surrender continued.

  “The ritual of the Surrender is not about quenching a vampire’s thirst. It’s about the connection. Like the one you and I have,” Percy told her.

  “But you haven’t even drank from me, ever,” Hailey said.

  “Which is how I know you were meant for me,” he answered. “Our connection was forged on very little yet remains strong. This is why I am not partaking in the Surrender tonight. Not when I have you.”

  “So the surrender is about finding the perfect match?” Hailey asked.

  “That’s one way to suggest it. The meaning of the ritual of the surrender is about agape. Universal love.”

  “But how will they know when the connection is perfect? How will they know who the right person is?” Hailey questioned him.

  “The same way I knew,” he answered again. “Whoever you hold the strongest bond to. The ability to communicate with one another when not physically present. That is one way to tell. And the stronger the shared dream, the better the match. Besides these indicators, we simply know.”

  “And what about the people who aren’t a good match? What will happen to them?”

  “Each person will be hypnotized once more tonight. None will recall the events of the Surrender. If you are not a good match to a vampire then the connection will fade away and you will go about your life. But your match… they may become your progeny, your child, or your lover. It merely depends what they were meant for. But every human-vampire relationship is built on the foundation of the human giving up control to the vampire.”

  “Surrender,” Hailey whispered. “The other type of surrender.”

  “Yes,” Percy smiled through flickering eyes. “That is the third stage of the Surrender. It is separate from the ritual of tonight. To give yourself over to the vampire entirely. Which you have yet to do.”

  “By letting you drink from me?” Hailey asked and Percy nodded. “Does it hurt?”

  “Only momentarily,” he said. “And in exchange – a pleasure that bounds both of us.”

  “So that’s what the literature gets wrong. It’s always about drinking the blood of the human. When really… it’s mutual.”

  “Precisely,” he said, his golden eyes shimmering in the moonlight. “Now Hailey, I wish you to come with me. You wanted to know my story. I think it is time I told you.”

  Chapter 9

  As the pool party continued, Percy escorted Hailey back into Vampyr Manor. They entered through the backdoor, down the hall, and back into the marbled foyer. There they made their way up the sprawling staircase.

  “Just this way,” Percy said as he led her by the hand. The halls were filled with marble busts of what Hailey guessed were historical figures. She recognized none of them and assumed them to be vampire royalty of some sort.

  They stopped at a room with gold doors and another matching doorknob. “This is my room,” he told her as he opened the door. They walked inside. And on the other side was a lavish bedroom. There was antique furniture abound. A gold draped bed with purple sheets. But the most notable aspect made Hailey’s jaw drop.

  She looked up. Covering the entire ceiling of the room was a sprawling painting. It looked like a fresco painted by Michelangelo or Leonardo Da Vinci.

  “It’s like a mini Sistine Chapel,” Hailey gasped.

  The ceiling fresco depicted a great war. There were armored men fighting cloaked vampires. It looked like something that Hailey could only describe as the Holy Wars. The section of the painting near the door depicted an impaling. The section over the middle of the room depicted a battle with dozens of people on either side. The section over the bed featured
a woman being crowned – a coronation.

  “It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever said,” Hailey continued.

  “Interestingly, you mentioned the Sistine Chapel,” he chuckled.

  “Did you know Michelangelo or Da Vinci?” Hailey asked. Percy gave her a strange, ‘as if’ look. “I mean, I’m just asking! You guys can live for so long.”

  “Forever, in fact,” he told her. “But I am not old enough to have lived during the Italian Renaissance. Alobard, however, had the pleasure of meeting both men you mentioned.”

  “That’s amazing. How did he know them?”

  “Alobard was once a consort to a member of the Medici family. They were the wealthiest family in Florence during the sixteenth century. Funny isn’t it? Neither the Holy Roman Empire nor the Pope himself realized there was vampires living amongst them. Of course, they were surely thrown off by the myth of us recoiling in the presence of holy artifacts. Neither crosses nor holy oils have ever had a real effect on a vampire. Because, well, we are not evil.”

  “But you are of the dark,” Hailey said. “Not that I ever thought you were evil. I like you too much to think that.”

  “Bats and owls are also creatures of the night. But neither is considered evil. You know, Da Vinci once said “No creature shall have any other wings than that of a bat.” Da Vinci knew the power of the bat, the strength of its wings. The beauty of its wingspan. Da Vinci was also quite aware of the existence of vampires when he said that. He regarded vampire as the superior species. He greatly wanted to be turned. But it was not to be.”

  “It’s like there’s a whole other history out there. There’s human history and then there’s…”

  “Vampire history,” he finished her sentence. “You are correct. Humans do not teach our history. Not out of arrogance but out of ignorance. Our history is largely unknown to humans, relegated to the shadows of myth and rumor.”

  “So tell me,” she said. “About your life.”

  “Please sit. The story, I’m afraid, is not a short one.” He outstretched his hand toward the bed. Hailey took a seat on the ornate gold-trimmed purple duvet covering the mattress. He joined her on the bed, sitting next to her. He held her hand as he talked. She couldn’t look away from him. Though his hands were cold, his gaze was warm. Gentle. Affectionate.

  “My human birth occurred in 1693. I was born in Sweden during the reign of the Ottoman Empire. My father’s name was Klaus and his father was Percivell. My mother was Susana. They had four children. Myself, Maja, Adolpho, and Alban. Their fifth child, Namah, died during childbirth. This was the historical era known as the Baroque period. But we were a poor family. We lived in a cabin built by my father before my birth.

  “My mother knew how to plant every manner of vegetable. This was hundreds of years ago and I still so vividly recall the taste of the ripe peaches we’d pluck. It’s been over 300 years since I’ve truly been able to taste one.”

  “Would it be possible for you to taste one. Now, I mean?” Hailey interrupted.

  “No,” he answered. “We have no taste buds for food of any kind. Only blood.”

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Hailey said shyly. “Please, go on.”

  “My mother planted. And my father taught all of his sons to hunt. Deer, elk, snakes, and when we got older, bears. Now I’m sure you’re thinking… how on earth does a human hunt a bear? My father taught us to lay traps. Then we’d fire at it with muskets. Now musket shots were both expensive and hard to come by when you lived in a cabin by the woods.

  “So we always had to be precise with our shooting. ‘One shot is all you need,’ my father would say. One shot to the temple of a bear would put it out of its misery. And a bear, my god, can you imagine how far that would carry us? We’d skin it and place the meat on ice.

  “My father taught us to never let any piece of an animal go to waste. So we used the fur to keep us warm during the winters. Think of the paintings of the old hunters covered in bear pelts. The bears claws would be kept for cutting. A fine replacement for a knife, to be sure.

  “Two of my siblings died when I was thirteen. Both in the same year. Adolpho and Alban succumbed to the type of illnesses that plagued the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.

  “My mother never truly recovered from losing them. She fell into what we would now call depression. During this time, my father told the rest of us we had to stay strong. Soon after, a new family arrived near our campgrounds. They, too, hunted and planted for everything they needed. The winters of Sweden were forever cold and lasted longer than any other season.

  “It made the most sense to my father and the newest family to arrive that we should all hunt together. We were able to cover twice as much ground. By today’s standards it would be considered quite an intense childhood. I could neither read nor write at that time.

  “My mother then became pregnant with Namah. The child died after eight months of pregnancy. It ruined my mother. Life was not kind to late seventeenth century families.

  “Of course, at that time there was little to compare it to. A life so barren only seems horrific with the unkindness and passage of time. But there was an event that, in the absence of time, still mortified me. I was fifteen and had remained in the cabin with my mother after coming down with a severe illness. It was at that time that I thought I would die. It was likely a virus of some sort.”

  “Is that when you were turned?” Hailey asked.

  “Not even close,” he answered.

  “Sorry. It’s just such an interesting story,” she said. “That I was just wondering.”

  “Feel free to stop me and ask a question at any time. I promise, I don’t mind. But as I was saying, it was a time when I was unable to even get out of bed. It was only my mother and I in the cabin that day. The day the unthinkable happened. A man broke into our cabin. He rode upon a black horse and wore a black hood. I could see only a long beard under his hood.”

  “Oh no,” Hailey whispered, anticipating what he would say next.

  “I got out of bed, my ribs stinging with every step. I tried to stop him. But he was far too strong to be stopped by a sickened boy of fifteen. He shoved me into a wall. Unable to move, with several broken bones, I was forced to watch as he killed my mother.

  “He took a blade, and sliced it from the left side of her throat to the right. I watched and cried. Unable to help as she bled from her throat. It remains the most horrific moment of my life. And I shall never forget the words he said to me as he killed her.

  “Titta på pojken som jag erövrar.”

  “What does that mean?” Hailey asked.

  “It’s Swedish for ‘watch boy, as I conquer’.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Hailey said tearfully.

  “After that my family consisted only of my father and my younger sister, Maja, who was away in the woods when the dark rider killed my mother. Life could never be the same after that moment.

  “We were devastated. While living conditions may differ from century to century, and you learn to make the most of it – losing a loved one has never not been painful. Whether you’ve lost a loved one today. Or a thousand years ago. The grief remains.

  “Eventually my father wound up moving to a Swedish village under the control of the Ottoman Empire. My sister lived with him. Conditions were more favorable. My father eventually found work as a craftsman and a carpenter.

  “At that time, I was seventeen and I became a soldier for the empire. We trained for many months to go to war with Russian forces. This was around the year 1710. I was sent to fight in what was known as the Pruth River Campaign.”

  “What? I’ve not heard of that,” Hailey said.

  “It’s also been called the Russo-Ottoman War. It was deadlier than anything we could have been prepared for. The Russian forces were indomitable. They were simply impossible to defeat. I watched as every solider I knew died. Impaled, beheaded, shot to death, killed by cannonball, trampled… every manner of death possible in war.<
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  “We were upon the outer banks of the river one night, starving, and freezing. There was no home to go to when you were in the middle of a battle. There were forces fighting on every side. That night two soldiers and I split the last two cans of rations and prayed the battle would soon be over. We knew it wouldn’t be possible for us to make it much longer.”

  Percy stopped talking for a moment. Hailey squeezed his hand and he asked her if she’d like to know what happened next, with a warning of what was to come.

  “Yes! I have to hear it. You couldn’t just stop there. I’ve never been so interested in someone’s life.”

  “That night we slept near the river bank. We couldn’t light a fire because it would let our enemies know where we were. We huddled near the bushes. But still we were found. Two Russian soldiers fired upon us as we woke. One of my fellow soldiers was shot dead while the other was stabbed.”

  “The violence you’ve seen,” Hailey shook her head quietly.

  “I knew I was next to die. I used my knife to stab one of the soldiers. He fell over dead but his comrade shot me twice. Once in the chest and once in the stomach. I fell to the ground. He walked over to me. As he bent over to check my pulse, I gripped my knife and stuck it into his throat.”

  “So much bloodshed,” Hailey whispered. “My God.”

  “As I lay dying that night, I took what I thought would be my last few breaths. Dizzy, dying, fainting… I saw someone ahead. I figured it was another Russian soldier who I hoped would put me out of my misery.

  “The person drew nearer and with the little clarity I had left, I could see it was not a soldier. It was not even a man. It was a woman. A young gypsy woman. ‘Please, kill me,’ I begged her.

  “She said to me, ‘You are not to die tonight.’ I fell unconscious from what I assume was the loss of blood. I woke up three days later in a small cabin. The gypsy woman was tending to my wounds. She told me her name was Carmilla. She’d bandaged me and fed me soup she prepared once I awoke. The bleeding stopped but I was still too frail – unable to walk, unable to even get out of the bed that she’d placed me in.