Angeles Betrayal

by Michael Pierce

  “I’m sorry about that. I never mean to kill anyone, but sometimes it just comes with the territory.” Damien swallowed hard, trying to keep down whatever contents were left in his stomach. “You’re surely not going to kill us, because we’re not who you really want.”

  “And who do we really want?” I asked, already tired of our little game.

  “The man behind the name.” He looked me directly in the eyes. “I did not create Damien Galt. I was given the name Damien Galt. The man behind the name is the one making the calls.”

  “You’re saying you’re just a puppet,” Syrithia said.

  “Then who’s the puppet master?” Aaron asked, coming to stand between Syrithia and me.

  “That is the question,” Damien said.

  “Damn right and I just asked it, so I want a Goddamn answer.”

  “Matthew, you’ve been after me for years now.” Damien paused to bring a fist to his mouth, then shook his head and continued. “I’m even still carrying a bullet scar from one of your attempts. Here, let me show it to you.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said, but he passed Clementine the barf bag and proceeded to take off his tuxedo jacket and shirt.

  Clementine also took the clothes Damien was discarding, then he unstrapped the Kevlar vest and dropped it to the floor. All he had left was a white V-neck undershirt; he untucked it from his slacks and lifted one side.

  “See? It went in right here,” Damien said, pointing to the silver circle on the right side of his abdomen. “Then it exited out the back. I’d rather not get up, but you get the idea.”

  “Who’s the puppet master?” Aaron insisted, obviously frustrated from being ignored.

  “It’s my understanding the name Damien Galt originated from you, Matthew,” Damien said.

  “What?” I asked, positive I’d heard him right, but unwilling to accept why he’d say such a thing.

  “What’s he talking about?” Syrithia asked.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Damien said. “I’m not taking my orders from Matthew. But the man behind the name, the one I am working for, got the name from someone as well. Someone who claimed to know what the future held. You, Matthew. Can you see the future? Can you travel through time? Did you see Damien Galt in another time, then come back to warn the world? If that was your plan, you’ve done a terrible job—I think you should know that.”

  There was only one man I’d told about the future, and it was on the first night I’d arrived on Earth when I’d thought I was going to be killed by the first vampire I ever encountered. He’d demanded to see the portal to confirm my story was true, which I’d continued to successfully resist. However, he’d remained in my life ever since—plaguing me, killing the ones I loved.

  As Damien gazed at me, it was obvious he knew everything. How could I have been so blind? He was working with Frederick. He was working for Frederick—and Frederick was the man behind the name, the puppet master pulling the strings. And at that point, it also became obvious that killing Damien would not change the future; Frederick was the real power and drive.

  “Matthew, is there something you’d like to share with the group?” Syrithia asked.

  Everyone was now looking at me, and Damien now had a smug look on his face, looking victorious even with the beads of sweat dripping down his forehead.

  “He truly isn’t Damien Galt,” I said, glancing over at Syrithia.

  Her beautiful face was as hard as stone. The others in the group looked like they were ready to turn on me at any second; I would have to choose my words carefully.

  “Why do you think you were able to capture me tonight?” Damien chuckled. “Because he wanted you to. Tonight’s Benefit Dinner—even though it made millions of dollars for my foundation, was put on for you, to give you the idea and opportunity to try again. And we had to let you win sometime, otherwise, you’d just give up. We wouldn’t want that. You’ve tried so hard. So, tonight is your reward.”

  “What do you mean—you wanted to be captured?” I asked, turning away from the angry mob and back to Damien. Then I noticed what he now had in his hand—an open pocket knife.

  In fact, all six members of their group had similar knives out, just like an old romanticized street gang. Clementine clutched her cellphone and was frantically punching information into it.

  “Get that phone away from her!” Aaron yelled to Finn and Trent, but they didn’t move. When Aaron advanced on her, she tossed him the phone without a fight.

  “I’m sorry, Matthew,” Damien said. “It’s time for us to leave you now. Tonight has been an adventure.”

  “None of you is going anywhere!” Syrithia barked. “We need some answers.”

  But before anything more could be said, Damien and Clementine plunged the knives into their own stomachs. The four guards followed suit, each of them sinking to the floor as blood poured from their midsections.

  “What the hell is happening here?” Aaron yelled, his eyes wide as he watched the people we’d captured bleeding out from their self-inflicted wounds. Then his anger and attention were directed toward me.

  Damien dropped the bloody knife beside him, groaning in pain as a red stain spread across his white undershirt. His upper body slid to one side, his fall stopped by Clementine’s body now leaning into him. They were propping each other up, each one holding the other’s hand as they waited for death’s arrival.

  “Should we do something?” Octavius asked.

  I shook my head. There was no point.

  As we stood there in silence, watching Damien and his entourage die, a cellphone began to ring. It sounded like it was coming from Damien. But still, no one moved. After four rings, it stopped—but a second later, another phone began to ring. This time, the ringing was coming from one of the guards slumped beside Clementine. After that, the phone from the guard next to Damien began to ring.

  “Am I the only one finding this super creepy?” Avelina asked, standing close to Syrithia.

  When Clementine’s phone began trilling, Aaron stared intently at the caller ID. At first, he held it out like he’d been struck with a live grenade, but before the ringing stopped, answered it.

  “Who’s this?” Aaron asked, then listened as someone spoke on the line. “The name’s Aaron. Your turn.” Another pause. “Ahh, the puppet master, watching from above. How is Matthew involved? Are you two—” Aaron took the phone away from his ear, his gaze trying to burn holes through me, then he tossed me the jewel-encrusted device.

  I turned away from everyone and headed for an empty section of the garage before answering. And in those final seconds, I tried to mentally prepare for where the terrifying conversation would lead. “Hello, Frederick.”

  42

  Matthew

  1950

  On Catherine’s breaks, while I was human, she used to come to my hospital room and we’d talk. Now that I was a vampire, we took our night breaks together, oftentimes escaping the confines of Sisters of Mercy and enjoying each other’s company under the stars. However, on a clear February night in 1950, we shared our last break together.

  Catherine brought some warmed blood from the staff supply, and I stole an extra bedsheet for us to lie on. We met in the grassy meadow behind the hospital under a waning moon and countless stars, drinking our blood then lying back on the bed sheet, cuddled close. I didn’t feel the cold anymore, so we didn’t need each other for warmth, but we needed each other just the same.

  I leaned over and kissed her soft, full lips, and soon our bodies were intertwined with our passion. She was not the monster I’d once thought she was, but a sweet woman dealing with the loss of everyone she loved beyond the natural timeline. And now she had me to start a new chapter in her life.

  Another thing that had become clear was how much I desired her with me. I wanted her to help build the new society I was planning, knowing she’d wish to assist; she had an empathy for the patients that no other doctor in the hospital seemed to possess. She didn’t revel in the su
ffering of others and didn’t look down on humans as inferior beings. However, she understood what she’d become and didn’t deprive her hunger. It was a constant source of conflict for her.

  Once we were back to gazing up at the stars and her head was resting comfortably on my shoulder, I finally decided to tell her. “I came from the stars,” I said.

  She raised her head and met my eyes. “Yes; you are my angel sent from heaven to pull me out of purgatory and show me that I still deserve happiness.”

  I smiled and craned my neck to kiss her. “You’re my savior as well, but I wasn’t speaking with poetic license. I need to tell you something that may sound too fantastic to be true, but I swear to you, it is.”

  “Then what do you mean you came from the stars?” Catherine asked, sitting up now, her expression serious.

  “I came from a time when our kind rose up and took control of the world,” I began. “The humans retaliated and started a nuclear war to eradicate the threat. There was a group of us who escaped to a space station while the world was falling into chaos and anarchy. Then somehow a door opened, but it didn’t lead where it was supposed to—but to ninety-nine years in the past—to 1949. And that’s where Frederick found me.”

  “You’re saying that 1949—last year—is ninety-nine years in the past for you? That you’re from 2048?”

  I nodded, and she burst out laughing.

  “That’s insane,” she said, trying to rein in her laughter after seeing the solemn look on my face. “Isn’t it?”

  “It’s insane, but it’s true. I know mankind will land on the moon in 1969—nineteen years from now. I know that we will be going to war with North Korea in a few short months. Our next U.S. president will be President Eisenhower, and the one after him—President Kennedy—will be assassinated. I can tell you many ways in which our society will change over the coming decades, but it would probably be best for me to show you.”

  “Show me…? You mean you can go back?” She wasn’t laughing anymore.

  “I can take you into space, where you can see the world from an entirely new perspective. And you’ll be able to see technology only written about in science fiction stories. It’s all real.”

  Catherine looked up to the heavens, the skies now possessing a wonderment that they hadn’t before. “Your station is really up there?”

  “Not yet, but it will be—when I build a new one in this time,” I said, taking her hand. “And I want you with me. I have a mission to build the new station, assemble this new group of people, and prepare them for what’s coming.”

  “To prepare them for the rise of the vampires…”

  “Exactly.”

  “But you are a vampire now, do you not realize that?”

  “I can prepare them better than anyone,” I said. “And you can help. We can save a lot of people. Will you at least come and see the station for yourself?”

  “I’d like that,” she said. “I want to see what you’ve seen. I hate the thought of you going off to save the world and leaving me behind.”

  “Then I’ll take you—tomorrow night,” I said, leaned in, and pressed my lips against hers.

  The next day, all I could think about while cleaning the patient rooms was taking Catherine to ParallEarth, giving her a glimpse into the future. She knew much more about the current time and would make a great asset in establishing the new Society. And after only six months as a vampire, I believed I’d found my soulmate, to travel through time together without growing old.

  I was scrubbing the floor of a teenage boy’s room when someone unlocked the door and Frederick breezed in. The soles of his dress shoes left prints on the floor, still wet from a mixture of soapy water and blood. He was noticeably pleased at the sight of me down on my hands and knees. Then he glanced at the boy, who’d stiffened on Frederick’s arrival; no one was safe when Frederick was around.

  “How are you enjoying your time as a servant?” Frederick asked, pacing around the room.

  “It’s better than being a prisoner,” I said, glaring at him. I dropped the bloody sponge into the wash bucket and rose to my feet.

  Frederick gave an unsettling chuckle, and to the boy’s dismay, took a seat on the edge of the bed just inches away from the shaking boy. “Oh, you’re still a prisoner. You’ll always be my prisoner. Now you just have chores and other people to report to besides me.”

  I hadn’t seen him in a couple of months but could guess what he was there for—the same thing he’d always wanted from me. But he should have known by now that I would never be willing to give up the information he craved. I would never show him the portal and there was nothing he could do to me to change that fact. It was too important.

  “Are you here to kill me, finally?” I asked.

  Frederick laughed again. “Kill you? Don’t you know me at all by now? We’re in this for the long haul. I’ll get the information from you if it takes a lifetime.” Then he turned his attention to the boy, placing a hand on his leg. “How are your cravings?”

  “I’m managing,” I said, my pulse quickening from the look he was giving the boy—from what I could sense he was planning to do.

  Frederick didn’t waste another moment before ripping into the boy’s neck. The boy cried out but was utterly defenseless against the vampire preying on him, draining his life with two long fangs. I was usually here for the cleanups, not during the feedings themselves, and as much as I wanted to help the boy, I longed to taste his blood just as badly.

  Frederick released his prey and examined my reaction. “You want some. I can tell.” He left the bleeding boy where he lay and rose from the bed. “Go on. Drink. Have your fill.”

  “I’m not supposed to,” I said, licking my lips yet commanding my body to remain where I stood.

  “I understand those are the guidelines you’ve been given, but I am the owner of this hospital, and I am giving you his blood to drink.”

  I tried holding back but couldn’t. I didn’t want to take anything from Frederick but I couldn’t stop myself from lunging at the boy and sinking my teeth into the holes in his neck that Frederick had left open and flowing. As I drank, I could feel Frederick standing over me, laughing in the background. And still, I couldn’t stop.

  “You’re going to kill him, but it’s okay. I’m giving you permission. Embrace what you’ve become.”

  I felt the boy growing weak in my arms and wanted to let go—to stop and save him—but simply couldn’t retract my fangs from his soft flesh. I couldn’t stop. Typically, Catherine had her hand on my shoulder and told me to let go, and for some reason, I could obey her request. But I didn’t have the self-discipline to stop while Frederick was urging me to continue. So, I did continue; I felt the boy die in my arms.

  “Very good, Matthew. Now you are the monster the police always thought you were,” he said, patting me on the back as I licked the blood from my lips. “Now… how about you take me to the portal?”

  This boy was the first person I’d killed and I felt the true weight of his life. I dropped my head onto his chest that no longer rose and fell, and began to cry.

  “Well, you can just suck all the fun out of anything, can’t you?” Frederick scoffed.

  The next thing I knew, with my head suddenly grasped between his hands, he snapped my neck around, and everything went black.

  When I awoke, I was strapped to a metal chair set atop the bed, and was facing the window. The chair itself was also strapped to the bed with thick cables, pulled as tight as piano wire to keep me from knocking the chair off it. My wrists and ankles were bound with leather cuffs, and wooden splinters protruded from the flesh of my arms and legs. Each splinter was a source of excruciating pain, and I knew they were hindering my strength and prohibiting my ability to heal. My struggle against the restraints was as weak as a human’s.

  After taking inventory of my situation, I gazed out of the window towards which I was pointed. Outside was the open field to the back of Sisters of Mercy; it glowed in the warm l
ight of midday. The sun, though, wasn’t yet high enough for me to be in its direct rays, but at first, I feared that was why I was positioned there. The sun would slowly be working its way across the sky, its direct rays finding their way through the glass. Then to my horror, I realized I was not the target.

  Across the clearing, at the first row of bare trees, hung a noose from a large branch. And in that noose writhed a bound woman.

  Catherine!

  Her hands were tied behind her back, and her feet were also bound together, the restraints keeping her from escaping the noose. She fought and struggled, kicking wildly into the open air, but none of her erratic movements would get her any closer to breaking free. The sun was on her and I could see that anguish and pain on her face. Steam rose from her skin and I could hear her bloodcurdling screams from where I sat.

  “No!” I cried, using every ounce of my strength to at least free one hand. All I needed was one…

  The sight outside was horrendous—the woman I loved hanging by her neck yet fighting to survive. If it hadn’t been for the sun, she’d have been able to survive indefinitely. But it was the noose keeping her in the yellow rays, cooking her alive—and I had no idea how long she had left.

  I pulled at the cuffs until I thought my bones would break, but nothing was seeming to give. I tried elbowing the chair but the angle was awkward, so I couldn’t get much force behind the blows.

  My extremities burned from the splinters, but I could only imagine how much worse the sun was. I’d entered its rays for short durations since my turning and couldn’t withstand more than a minute. Witnessing Catherine’s agony almost broke me completely.

  “I’ll show you!” I cried, not believing I was saying the words aloud. “I’ll show you! Just save her, please!”

  But there was no one around to hear me; it was only Catherine and me. Frederick made sure there was no way I could save her. However, he was forcing me to watch her die.