by steve higgs
‘Worst case,’ I corrected him. ‘Is that there is nothing there and we still have no idea where Poison is.’
‘Let’s hope we guessed right on their location then,’ finished Big Ben.
There being nothing left to say, we snagged bags and gear and headed out, me with two Dachshunds dancing around excitedly in front of me. Frank jumped in with Big Ben and he peeled out and past me as I was settling the dogs on my passenger seat. I had told them where to go, so just a few minutes later we were pulling up back at the same spot I had parked in earlier this week.
Chilwell Castle. Tuesday, September 28th 1527hrs
At the door in the castle wall, the three of us stopped. Running down the path I had outlined that this point was close to the first victim's cottage and where we thought the crypt was.
‘Give Frank a boost over, Ben,’ I instructed as I leapt the wall myself and dropped down on the other side into a crouch. A moment passed and when no one appeared to be coming over the wall behind to me I began to get up again to see where they were. Then the door in the wall opened and Frank walked through it, head ducked slightly, followed by Big Ben who was more or less bent double to get through.
‘It was unlocked,’ Frank said, somewhat redundantly.
Big Ben and I exchanged a glance just as Frank came to crouch beside me. I had no idea if there was any need for us to be surreptitious, but caution seemed the right tactic until we knew more.
The old, overgrown building I had seen over the wall in my last visit looked just the same now. There was no noise of any kind save for birds tweeting in the trees. It would be a tranquil, lovely garden to be in under other circumstances.
I motioned forward with two fingers of my right hand, a practiced move from a different life. Big Ben set off without another look, skirting between trees to cover the fifty yards to the target.
I checked behind me to see that Frank was trailing along, copying our movements and keeping both low and quiet. If we were being observed from the main building, we probably looked like complete idiots. Big Ben and I were both dressed in our standard black combat fatigues, Frank had on poorly fitting jeans and ratty old, white, hi-top Converse that had long ago decided that white was no longer fashionable and elected for a new colour called cruddy instead. To finish his look, he was wearing a black Hogwarts t-shirt and a faded burgundy Black Sabbath hoody unzipped at the front.
We got to the building, or as close to it as we could get with all the overgrown plants around it and edged along it to what we assumed was the front. This part of the building faced away from the river and towards the castle so was the one bit we could not see until we rounded the side we were now edging up.
As he reached the front edge, Big Ben crouched down again. He was peering out towards the castle. I wondered if he could see someone, or if we had been spotted, but realised he was just checking if there was anyone visible as he was about to silhouette himself in front of the white stone façade at the front of the mausoleum.
He rounded the corner and disappeared from view briefly until I moved to the corner myself. The building, which appeared fairly drab from the rear was all white carved stone at the front. The entrance was framed by two large pillars either side which stood perhaps three metres high beneath the apex of the roof. The entrance itself was a massive oak door inset with black ironwork. The front was just as overgrown as the rest of the building but where we had come to the front corner, we could see that someone had recently beaten a path through it to gain access.
I remembered finding the freshly removed undergrowth at the gate in the castle wall. This looked just as fresh as if it had been cleared in the last couple of weeks. I fingered a piece of broken bramble just like I had when I was looking at the gate - snapped not cut.
I pushed on through the gap in the undergrowth with Frank on my heels.
‘The lock has been used,’ said Big Ben almost whispering. ‘It’s just like the gate.’ Meaning that it was clear of bugs and debris. ‘Do we go in?’
I nodded and watched as he twisted the ancient doorknob and pushed at the door. I expected nothing to happen as I figured the door would be locked but it swung open with almost no noise at all.
And inside staring right at us like a bunny caught in headlights was Obsidian Dark with an armful of candles. A few feet from him was another man I didn't recognise. Both were dressed in black, which seemed to be the colour of choice for this season's vampires. Both hissed simultaneously and shifted back from the shaft of sunlight now illuminating the room.
Obsidian dropped the candles and hissed again like he was an angry cat. Despite moving back into shadows, he was quite visible from where we stood, as was his colleague. The inside of the mausoleum was a single room with small alcoves in the wall that I guessed held the ancient bodies of Mr. Chilwell and his ancestors. The room was illuminated by perhaps one hundred large church candles that were adorning every surface and right in the centre was a coffin, the lid closed. The coffin appeared to be made from brushed aluminium or something similar with brasslike metallic fittings to contrast yet complement the rest of it. It lay on top of a large stone block in the centre of the room. It was draped with what might have been red velvet. Just the bottom foot or so of stone was showing.
There were two steps down into the main room from where we were, the ceiling was perhaps four metres from the floor making the room seem bigger than it was.
‘Where is Poison?' I demanded through clenched teeth while staring straight at Obsidian. This paranormal nonsense had gone on long enough.
‘With the master,' came the reply with a sing-song chuckle. Obsidian was smiling at me.
‘You had better not hurt her,' yelled Frank, advancing past me into the room. I put my hand firmly on his shoulder and whispered that he be ready. I didn't feel I need to say what he needed to be ready for.
‘She will die the sweetest of deaths tonight as we are made vampire,’ cooed Obsidian from the shadows below us.
I took a step down into the room and then another to join Obsidian and his friend, let’s call him vampire douchebag number two, on the floor of the crypt. ‘It's over, Obsidian. The police know you have been helping Ambrogio to kill people. You are going to go to jail along with the others that are involved. They know where you live, they know where you work, and they know what you have done. Ambrogio is going to be caught and you will all go to jail. Help yourself, give us the girl before any more harm is done.' This was my one attempt to talk sense into him. The next stage was to beat him into telling me what I wanted to know.
Vampire Douchebag number two decided to pipe up, ‘You pathetic mortal weakling. You fail to understand the forces you are meddling with. After tonight we won’t live anywhere, we won’t work anywhere, and it won’t matter what we have done because we will be unstoppable, invincible and untouchable.' His voice was full of confidence like he believed every word he was saying.
‘Tempest, how about if I punch him in the face? Do you think that will move things along?’ asked Big Ben.
‘I think it might, Ben. Let’s do that.’
Big Ben was already moving, his shoulders forward and his right arm rising to land a strike when the door slammed shut behind us shutting off the light.
‘And now, you die,' laughed Obsidian causing Big Ben's charge to falter as he turned to see what Obsidian was looking at. I turned also and there, just inside the door, were another four vampire wannabes - the rest of the senior circle.
I turned back in time to see Big Ben complete his intended motion and swing a haymaker fist at Obsidian. It was the first time I had ever seen him miss. The punch sailed past Obsidian who was smiling broadly as he gave Big Ben a shove. Having taken his eyes off the target to look back at the door, his strike had been timed wrong and he was off balance. The simple push from Obsidian caused him to trip over his own feet and sprawl across the floor.
‘Get them,’ instructed vampire douchebag number two.
My brain slammed into gear
and hit the accelerator hard. The only way out was through the four vampire dicks now blocking the entrance, but if I made it through them it would leave Big Ben on the floor with a six on one situation. So, that option was out. I grabbed the shoulder of Frank’s hoody and pushed us both towards the centre of the room. We needed to better the odds.
If I could just take out one of them and get Big Ben back on his feet it would be three against five, odds that could cause a standoff unless they had weapons, which they entirely might. I was dragging Frank I noticed, something I didn’t have time for. He was behind me fiddling with his clothing as I powered towards Obsidian. He and Big Ben were on one side of the room, the coffin giving me separation from vampire douchebag number two. Big Ben was trying to get up as I closed the distance between us, but I could not get to him before Obsidian lined up and kicked him full in the ribs. Twice.
And then suddenly Frank tore from my grasp, pushed an arm across my body in a bid to lever himself in front of me and appeared from under my left arm brandishing a crucifix. Obsidian cried out and shielded his eyes. He backed away from Frank as he advanced. He backed away as if the crucifix was painful to see.
As I bent to pull Big Ben back to his feet, Frank spun back and away from Obsidian to vampire douchebag number two and then to the other four vampire dicks, all of which were keeping their distance from the terrible effect of the crucifix.
This is ridiculous. But since it is working why challenge it?
Big Ben was up now, a hand clutching his side where the kicks had landed. He had dirt on his face, hands, and clothes from his fall and blood on his bottom lip. Frank had positioned himself in front of us, his free hand keeping us corralled behind him. We were still very much exposed, and it was still six against three with Frank’s fighting skills uncertain at best.
As usual for Big Ben in situations of dire peril he elected to throw gasoline on the fire. ‘Tempest, you told me there was a woman amongst this bunch. They all look like butt-ugly blokes to me. Which one of you is the girl?'
No one answered but they began to fan out around us, one of them climbing onto the coffin so he/she could leap down onto us. Frank was struggling to keep them all at bay now and we were going to have to act. I still fancied our chances if we could take out the first two to come at us. The first two to attack were always the bravest, or most confident of their abilities, although with this bunch clearly convinced they were vampires/half vampires/whatever, I was far less certain they would act in a predictable manner.
‘Ready?’ I asked Big Ben. We were both in fighting stances focused on the target nearest us.
‘Don’t wait for me,’ he responded. So, I didn’t.
They were going to attack sooner or later, why give them the chance to pick their moment? I went straight at the vampire on the coffin, convinced he would throw himself at me as I came closer so watched for it, stepped underneath him in a feign move as he lunged and popped up again to lift his legs as they went over me. It didn't work as I had planned though, so instead of landing on his face or skull he rolled into Frank and knocked him over. And now that Frank was keeping no one at bay the vampires all rushed us at once. The five that remained came at us in one wave and you just can’t fight them all.
I moved to meet the first of them as he leapt at me, hoping to catch his punch or kick so I could turn it into a hold or use it to force him off balance, but in the dark my grip missed, and I was punched in the side of my head by another unseen assailant. The blow sent me into the hands of the first vampire who immediately capitalised on my flailing body by getting his hands around my throat.
‘Will you just die?' came a rasping voice by my left ear which was unmistakably Obsidian. He was the one that had just punched my head, the pain of which was registering now.
I could not see Frank and had no time to worry about him as I tried to keep my feet underneath me and my centre of gravity low but off the floor. Go down now and I was in real trouble was the thought at the front of the queue. Obsidian was trying to get his hands around my throat from behind and I could not turn to deal with him as I was already engaged in dealing with the vampire to my front who was already doing a stand-up job of throttling me. I wanted to launch a high elbow at Obsidian’s head, even if I missed it should break his hold, but my arms were trapped.
From my right came the sound of a fist striking flesh followed by an unconscious looking vampire form landing at my feet. Big Ben was improving the odds. Then suddenly it was light in the room again as the door was opened once more and for the first time, and despite myself, I was pleased to see Vermont Wensdale and his two flunkies.
Cape flapping dramatically behind him, Vermont rushed down the stairs bearing a large crucifix of his own. He was yelling something I could not make out; it was Latin maybe. I saw him reach up to touch his throat and the cape released to land behind him. It was a cool move which revealed bare, muscular arms. He was wearing a white shirt with a ruffled neck opening and a leather doublet drawn tight with leather ties at the front.
His two flunkies had on combat gear much akin to my own, but with actual utility belts and far more red interwoven into the fabric than one usually associates with combat. It was reminiscent of Blade I realised later and wondered if they had ever tried doing all this with their sunglasses still on as Wesley Snipes would have.
Together, the three of them crossed the small chamber in a heartbeat. Vermont got to my position first and still moving at speed he struck the first of the two vampires in front of me across the back of his head with the metal crucifix. I half expected a comedy boing noise from the blow, but what I got was a sickening crunch from his skull and a flick of warm liquid on my forehead as blood came away from the wound.
Stefan and Arthur grabbed Obsidian and wrestled him away from me. The brief respite gave me a chance to find Frank who was now being pulled to his feet by Big Ben. Big Ben looked over and offered me a thumbs-up as a question. I was hurt but it was superficial, so I returned the gesture. The door slammed open once again which drew our eyes to see two of the vampires running from the crypt. I guess they didn’t like the odds and were feeling less invincibly powerful now.
‘Do we chase?’ asked Big Ben, clearly out of breath.
Before my brain could even consider the question and any options, I heard Obsidian behind me again.
‘I’m not a vampire! I’m not a vampire!’ he was yelling repeatedly.
Big Ben, Frank and I saw why he had changed his tune the second we turned in his direction. Arthur and Stefan had him pinned to the floor, one on each arm and Vermont was sitting astride his waist with a stake held to his heart and a bloody great mallet held over his head. The mallet was on the upstroke and nearing its apex!
‘Let me go, I’m not a vampire!’ cried Obsidian again.
His desperate cried mingled now with a combined, ‘Nooooooo!’ from Big Ben and Frank and me as we all dived to intercept the imminent murder. Seven of us crashed to the floor in a sprawling heap. I was spending far too much of my free time rolling around on the floor this week. I would not mind so much if there was a naked and happily willing lady involved but there never was.
Yet again we all scuffled, Vermont exclaiming his disbelief that we had dared to stop him dispatching the creature. Obsidian continuing to claim that he was not a vampire and everyone trying to hit someone else. I rolled off Stefan only to get kicked by Arthur as he struggled to get out of Big Ben's reach. I rolled again to find space.
‘Alright. Everyone stop!’ I bellowed. Incredibly they did, all of them turning to face me. Big Ben had hold of Frank’s shirt and was about to hit him by mistake. Vermont still had the stake in his left hand.
And Obsidian was nowhere to be seen.
Inside the Mausoleum. Tuesday, September 28th 1607hrs
Staring at each other in the dim candlelight, I swore internally that our best chance to find Poison had just run out the door. I ran to the top step and outside yelling over my shoulder as I went, ‘Don't let th
at moron stake anyone.'
Outside, there was no sign of Obsidian and numerous directions he might have gone. Did I guess and assume he leapt the wall to escape along the river path? It seemed more likely than him running further into the castle grounds. As I set off to cover the short distance to the wall though I heard a car start, a thrashed transmission and the spray of gravel as it took off. I turned and ducked to see out from under the trees. A small van was peeling out past what I took to be a swimming pool pump room. I could not see who was at the wheel, but I felt sufficiently convinced it was Obsidian.
I jogged back to the crypt and went inside once more. At the bottom of the steps, Big Ben and Frank were still engaged in a standoff with Vermont and his flunkies. On the stone floor, were two unconscious looking members of the Brotherhood of the Dead vampire-wannabe club and a third who was holding his head and sitting up.
Vermont had probably saved my life earlier just by turning up but the chaps on the floor needed first aid now. After that, I needed to get information from them and for that, I needed them unstaked.
‘Vermont these are humans. Despite their appearance and behaviour, they are just plain, vanilla humans. Check their pulses please if you need to but no one is getting staked.’
‘Mr. Michaels, they have been drinking the blood of a vampire's victims, they are no longer human even if they are not yet full vampire.'
How on earth could he know that?
‘How on earth do you know that?’
‘Um,’ said Frank.
‘Frank was filling in a few blanks while you were outside,’ answered Big Ben.
Okay. ‘Let’s say that they are not full vampire then. Is it possible to turn them back at this stage?’
‘Well, yes,’ Vermont’s admitted reluctantly.
‘Then we have a duty to keep them safe and bring them back from their living-dead hell yes?' Ha! Get out of that Vermont.
‘Technically vampires are not undead, Tempest,’ supplied Frank unhelpfully.