Original Blood

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Original Blood Page 14

by Greene, Steve


  “LaFleur was the Beast of Gevaudan?” Asked Julia. “Collecting meals for Graymare? That’s sick.”

  Avery nodded.

  “What happened to Lord Graymare?”

  “After hanging La Fleur, I went back to Graymare mansion and took an old, heavy bastard sword off of the wall. I entered Graymare’s study and took his head off with one swing. Maybe he didn’t sense my intentions, maybe he just didn’t care. Maybe he had been grooming me as his replacement all along. I’ll never know. Times were different back then. No one had really seen Graymare. He performed all his stately duties through correspondence and envoys, so I assumed his identity and his wealth.”

  “And you never saw your mother again?”

  “Oh, I did. I went to see her the very next night after killing Graymare. I never understood what she used to say about my father. She would tell me he died in a war, or that he just simply had to go away, or that he loved us but was out trying to discover the next great miracle of science. That night I found out who he really was. He was a man of a thousand faces, any of them, and all of them.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “My mother was a prostitute. I watched her take a man to her bedroom and let him ravage her. I watched the drunken sot writhing on her like a pig trapped under barbed wire. When he was done, he got up and fixed his pants, moved towards the door. When she asked for her five deniers, he threw her one and spit on her. He was the first man I ever killed for blood. The next day, I sent my mother a letter. It read that if she would leave whoring forever, she would receive a handsome allowance every day for the rest of her life. I signed it “Your Secret Admirer” and accompanied with it was the fat purse I had taken from the pig-man the night before. She never sold herself again. But for all the money in the world, all she ever wanted was her little Avery back. I would watch her from outside her bedroom window. Some nights, she would curl up on her bed with my old blanket and cry herself to sleep. Those nights it was especially hard to watch her, but I never left her side. For nearly thirty more years I watched her. Until the night God took her.”

  Julia chuckled. “You believe in God?”

  His glare was stern and she found herself drawing away in embarrassment.

  “Is it so strange that I would believe in God? After all I’ve seen, I daresay, there must be something else to look forward to beyond this hell. Besides, I’ve seen Him.” Avery paused but Julia resisted the temptation to ask any questions, sensing that he would continue.

  “The night my mother died, I snuck into her bedroom. She had had a stroke a few weeks before and she had gone blind. When I woke her, she knew my voice. She knew me. She felt my face, asked if it was really me. I assured her it was. She thought I was an angel sent to take her away. She held me so close. We wept together. And when she stopped crying, I held her at arm’s length and saw that she had passed. So, you ask me if I believe in God? The answer is, yes. Because I saw Him that night, staring back at me through her sad, lifeless eyes. I saw Him in the Grace I was afforded to have one more moment with my mother, no matter how fleeting that moment was. One more moment of remembrance and love with her was all I wanted. It was the best day of my life.”

  Julia felt a tear creeping around the rim of her eye. “That’s so sad. So terrible.” She said quietly.

  “Julia, if we can’t stop what’s happening, my life will seem like happy tidings in comparison.”

  “What is happening?” She asked.

  “Long ago, it was decided by ancient vampires, that our only hope of survival was to remain quietly cloaked in shadow. For all of my existence, there has been an unwritten pact among us. That we shall not make ourselves known to man. To create hell dogs is also viewed as a most undesirable act and usually results in one’s destruction by a group of fellow vampires. It is considered disgusting, taboo behavior. Someone, or a group of someones, has done something completely incredible. They have managed to get tens, maybe hundreds of thousands of vampires to abandon that mantra. Every night, countless vampires and hell dogs wander the streets, creating more of themselves. Every night, there are more. The number is growing so exponentially fast, we are afraid that in a month, possibly as much as five percent of the world’s population will be vampires run amok. In two months? Fifteen percent, maybe more. At first it was just the United States, but it’s already spreading around the globe. We have no idea who would have the influence and patience necessary to initiate such a plan. It must have taken them centuries of planning and constant vigilance. Just astounding.” He trailed off as though he were trying to formulate a thought.

  “So, you’re telling me that I’m supposed to believe that you’re like two hundred and fifty years old and that as we speak, vampires are rampaging through the world, trying to take over?” Julia asked.

  “See for yourself.” Avery said. He picked up a television remote and clicked it on. The small box on top of the dresser glowed into view and he flipped through the channels until he found a local news broadcast.

  What she saw was incredible. A flood of missing persons reports, “animal” attacks, murders, and abductions topped the news. She watched in awe as the bus she had ridden in came up as the next story. They recalled the number of victims and she was forced to remember the man whose head was torn from his body. “Why.” She felt the word fall from her lips and float away like a feather on a breeze.

  “We don’t know why. But more importantly, Who? We need to find whoever set these wheels in motion and stop them. Although, we’re quite certain irreparable damage has already been done. We’re only hoping to stave off the worst of it.”

  “And how do I fit into all this?” Julia asked.

  “I remain skeptical, but the Inner Sanctum, the Seraphim equivalent to a Board of Directors, believes that precogs will give us the insight we need to be victorious. And one of your fellow precogs pointed us to you.”

  “There are more people like me? Here?” She asked.

  “Yes. At any time, there might be a dozen or so precogs and their handlers here.”

  “Handlers?”

  “Yes. Sylvia will be in charge of your training. She’ll help you to understand your dreams, to gain some rudimentary control over them. A big waste of time if you ask me, but I’m not one of the Inner Sanctum. She’ll also be teaching you a good bit of self-defense. You’ll be needing it, I’m afraid.”

  “Hold on! Self-defense? Okay, I’m alright with defending myself, but I didn’t sign up for your war, pal. And what about my parents? I’m not just going to leave them!”

  Avery paused, staring into her eyes. “Julia, no one on our side wants this war. But it’s what we’ve been given and so we fight. You can leave any time you like, but I warn you. Alone in the world, you will most surely be killed or worse. And as for your parents, your mother was infected. When new vampires wake, they are usually disoriented and have little recollection of their former lives. They know little besides the hunger that screams from their bellies. They run on instinct for much of their first several days. And instinct, well…” Avery sighed. “I’m sorry to say this, but instinct leads them home.”

  Chapter 11

  When she woke, Philip was waiting anxiously by her side. She raised her head and the pain hit instantly. She took in a sharp breath and held it as long as she could.

  “Where does it hurt? I can get more ice.” He said.

  The air came out of her in rapid bursts as she laid her head back down on the pillow. Every nerve ending was alive and screaming as though her head and arms were covered by needles that constantly pressed deeper into the soft tissue. She wanted to scream, to cry, but her face was frozen in a pain-infused grimace.

  She had spent most of the day screaming in pain. Philip looked exhausted. The last twenty-four hours had aged him far beyond his years. She tried her best to keep from crying out now if for no other reason than Philip’s sanity. He was looking down at her with a combination of condemnation and appraisal. Madeline suddenly realized that
Philip didn’t believe she was who she said she was.

  “Is it night, yet?” She asked, moving her lips as little as possible.

  Philip looked at his watch. “Should be. It’s eight o’clock.”

  She didn’t like it, but she knew what she had to do. There was no denying her hunger. Her thirst. Somehow, she knew she had to feed. Feeding would help her. It had to. “Philip, I…” God, how do you ask this of someone? Even your own husband? “I need to feed, Philip.”

  “Ginny explained to me who you are, what you are. Somehow, you’ve convinced her that you are my Madeline, but it won’t be so easy with me.” He frowned.

  Oh God, not now. I’m too tired and hungry, in too much pain for this right now, Philip! “What do you need to know?” She asked him. The slightest movement hurt, but she owed him this at least.

  “When’s our anniversary?” He asked.

  “Trick question.” She mumbled. “Two anniversaries.” She paused, the pain was immense. “One when we eloped that we never told our families about. Oct 12th.” She paused again, stifling the pain and drawing another breath. “Our church wedding was forty-two years ago, tomorrow.”

  The disbelief in Philip’s eyes seemed to give way just a little bit. She continued, spurred by emotion. “When Julia was three, you were hanging a picture in the living room when you dropped the hammer on her head and she needed eight stitches.” She thought she saw a tear in the corner of his eye so she went on. “Labor with Ginnie went off and on for four days before they decided to perform an emergency C-section.” Philip’s eyes welled up a little more. She searched her memory for one more story that would convince him. One more tidbit that he couldn’t deny, but wouldn’t require the need to talk. She shifted her body in the bathtub and pointed to the birthmark on the left side of her rib cage. It was bold enough that Philip had remarked on it a number of times through the years. She was thankful that part of her was still intact. His eyes widened and the dam broke inside him.

  Tears poured from his eyes and he reached out to her, but stopped short of embracing her, not wanting to cause any more pain. He pressed his head down on the edge of the bathtub and whimpered. “Oh, Maddie. Oh God, Maddie, I thought I’d lost you. I can’t believe it’s really you.”

  “Philip, I need blood.” She reiterated. Without a word, Philip began to unbutton the sleeve of his shirt. “No, Philip! You’d become a monster like me.” Her lips cracked and stretched while the words came slowly. She tried to keep her lips as still as possible and it gave her voice a muffled quality.

  Philip nodded and looked down at her hands. Was he feeling regret? Was he wishing he’d have let her burn? Would it be easier for her to walk out into the daytime sun and end it? Would it be easier for him to witness her death than to watch her slowly degrade into a bloodthirsty killer?

  She caught a whiff of his scent and her blood began to boil with yearning. No. She thought. I have to be able to control myself around my own family or I truly am lost.

  Philip let out a rush of air and stood up. “Alright, I’ll go out and find something. We could probably use some more ice, anyway.”

  Her hand shot out and grabbed his arm as she sat up in the tub. Her mind suddenly filled with the memory of the pile of twisted flesh she watched the pack of vampires devour the night before. “No!” She yelled. “Don’t go out at night! Never go out at night. Promise me!” Even with her hands in blazing pain and her vision threatening to go black with shock, her grip was ironclad. He wouldn’t be able to wrench his arm away if he tried.

  “Okay, Maddie. I promise. But you’re hurting me.” He grimaced.

  She let his arm go as quickly as she had latched on and then retreated back into the cold water. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s alright. It’s fine.” But he backed away, rubbing at his arm. She thought she saw something else flash across his face for just a moment. Fear? “I won’t leave the house. I’ll be right back. Wait here.” He left the room. He pulled the door shut behind him and the slap it made on the door frame sounded like a thunder clap in her sensitive ears.

  The icy water she lay in had long ago turned pink from the fluids oozing from her wounds. She soaked a towel and placed it over the burned flesh of her face. Relief came slowly. She was near sleep when the door creaked open and Philip stepped in sheepishly.

  “Madeline?” He asked quietly. She pulled the towel from her face and looked up at him. His face was gray and sickly. He had a large cloth tied around one hand and held a bowl in the other.

  “Philip. What did you do?”

  “Here.” He said, handing her the bowl.

  She took the bowl from him. It was filled nearly to the brim with blood. Philip swayed as though he might pass out. “Please leave me.” She couldn’t bear the shame of him watching her while she drank his blood, the blood he had so willingly parted with to save her. When he had left the room, she put the bowl up to what was left of her lips and sipped. The taste was glorious. The taste was ecstasy. But it was Philip’s sacrifice. It was Philip’s body, his blood. Her tears ran down and mixed with the blood in the bowl as she swallowed it in huge gulps, hoping that not prolonging the act would somehow make it less heinous. When she had licked the bowl clean, she placed in on the floor next to the bathtub and wept. The salt in her tears burned a new trail of pain down her cheeks. She cried for the monster she had become and the wife and mother she still longed to be.

  She soaked the towel and placed it over her face once more but the tears wouldn’t stop for quite some time. Finally, her tears spent, she slept.

  When she woke, the sloshing pink ice water had been replaced by a warm, soft couch. But the couch did nothing to ease the pain. She cracked open one eye to see Ginny’s concerned face.

  “You’re up?”

  “Mm Hm.” Madeline answered. “How did I get here?” Her voice croaked on the first few words. She could still feel the flames licking at her face and hands like it had just happened. She tried to be strong, to not show the pain. But it was a battle she was quickly losing.

  “You don’t remember?” Virginia asked. “I brought you down late last night. I didn’t want your skin to get hyper hydrated. You could get an infection or something. Anyway, I brought you down here and I’ve been watching you since then. How’s your head?” She soaked a small towel in a bowl of ice water next to her and dabbed at Madeline’s burns.

  Madeline hissed at the pain but allowed Virginia to continue. As Virginia reached up to Madeline’s forehead, Madeline could smell her. She could practically hear the blood coursing through her veins. But she pushed away the thirst and concentrated on the pain. The pain was a blessing in that sense. Without it, Madeline had no idea if she could control her actions. Her body was trying to heal and it needed blood badly. Madeline’s thirst was screaming at her, but the pain demanded all of her attention. She grabbed Virginia’s wrist gently and looked into her beautiful eyes. “You’re going to be a great doctor, Honey.”

  Ginny smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “How is she?” A tired and weary Philip came down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

  “Not much better.” Ginny said. “But a little. Some of her wounds already look like they are covering up.”

  “What?” Philip was shocked. He moved closer and peered over Ginny’s shoulder. “Morning, Dearest.” He said to Maddie with a grin. “Yes, I see what you mean, Ginny. Incredible.”

  “Philip. I need…”

  Philip nodded and stood up. He glanced down at his hand, still wrapped in bandages.

  “No Philip, not that again. Is it daylight?”

  Philip nodded.

  “I think any blood will do. Even an animal.”

  Philip’s eyes brightened. He had thought they would need to sustain her with their own blood. Madeline could almost literally see the weight lift off of his shoulders. He had probably wrestled with the thought all night. “I could check with the pet stores in town.”

  “Yes, that’s good.”r />
  “Alright, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Philip hurried up the stairs. Madeline could hear him get into the car, open the garage door and pull away. The garage door closing was the last thing she heard and then the house settled into an unnatural silence. Ginny was staring at her, barely breathing. “You want to try and get back into a cold bath?”

  Madeline sat up instead of answering aloud. She was slow-going, but little by little, they made their way.

  The bathroom was spacious and warm. Ginny left the lights dim and it gave the white porcelain an orange glow. Madeline looked into the mirror and her breath caught in her throat while the water began running in the bathtub. The taint that had been in the air since she woke up had been hard to place, but one look at her destroyed face in the mirror told the story she needed to know. She suddenly remembered the towel that the skin of her face had stuck to. How when she pulled it from her face, the skin that had sloughed off stared back at her through eyeless holes like a child’s ghost costume. Her face, or rather her entire head, was a myriad of crimson and black swirls, some leading to large cracks in the cooked flesh that oozed a clear liquid. Her hair was nearly gone aside from a few singed, straggling shafts. The skin around her mouth was so badly destroyed that tendon and muscle, and even two molars were visible through a hole on one side. She let out a muffled whimper and tried to keep her tears from showing.

  She must’ve shown more fear than she had intended because Virginia gave her a sympathetic frown. “I know it’s bad, Mom. Don’t worry, you have super powers now. Dad seems to think that you’ll heal faster than a normal person. We took a blood sample while you were asleep and he said your blood has regenerative properties he’s never seen before. Just the fact that you aren’t in more pain than you are speaks volumes. A normal person wouldn’t be able to move, much less sleep, with the burns that you’ve sustained. Remember that summer I volunteered at the burn ward? There were people there with much less severe burns than you and they were in a lot more pain.” She stared at Madeline for a moment letting her words sink in. “Do you want to try and cool your burns down?”

 

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