Once I gave up trying to figure out where I was, I gradually began to notice my surroundings more as a tourist rather than as a panicky lost hiker. It was actually quite pleasant. It’s peaceful out here, I thought to myself. No city light pollution drowning out the millions of stars overhead, and no relentless traffic noises to barrage the senses. In fact, the only sounds that I could detect were the creaking and pinging of cooling metal under the hood of my car and the receding crunch of Andi’s boots in the sandy soil as she walked further away from me. As much as I found I was enjoying the quiet and the amazing view of the night sky, I realized if I lost sight of Andi I was screwed. She might even decide not to come back for me. I hurried to catch up to her.
The moon had already risen over the horizon and, being full only two days prior, it provided more than sufficient light for me to see the ground in front of me as I walked. Still, on a couple occasions I misjudged my steps and stumbled. Once, I fell all the way to one knee before regaining my balance. Andi strolled on as easily as I might have on a paved surface at high noon. The night was her friend, and darkness her element. I remember admiring that as I watched her comfortably crossing the terrain without misstep.
I lost track of time and the distance we walked, so I couldn’t tell you how far we went. Andi made it clear she still did not want to discuss our destination, so I stopped trying to initiate any conversation. Instead, I let myself zone out a bit as we travelled. Falling a few steps behind her, I trudged along listening to the hypnotic rhythm of our footsteps on the shifting ground and watching the even more hypnotic sway of her slender hips directly in front of me. Although she did not say anything, I am certain Andi knew exactly what I was doing and perhaps even exaggerated the motion just a little for my benefit. She knew she looked good and wasn’t above putting on a show when she had an admirer.
We crested one more, small hill and I was surprised by what appeared to be a miniature town in the next valley rising up into sight to greet us. Little structures dotted the landscape and, from our direction of travel, it appeared to me that this might be our destination. The fact that Andi did not break stride or turn away only reinforced my impression that this was indeed where she was headed. It took another minute of walking to get close enough for me to see clearly what it actually was that we were approaching. When I recognized it, my steps faltered and I came to a dazed stop. The darkness and the distance had initially fooled my eyes as to its actual scale, but now that we were practically on top of it I realized what I mistook for small houses and buildings in the moonlit shadows were, in fact, headstones.
Andi had led me to a graveyard.
Four large structures – stone mausoleums – dominated the center of the grounds. Perhaps a hundred gravesites surrounded these structures, distinguished by an assortment of markers varying from simple rock slabs to elegant stone statuary and marble spires. I turned to Andi, confused, and found her watching me expectantly.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked, clasping her hands in front of her like a delighted child. “It’s my friend’s family cemetery. There are graves here dating back over two hundred years. What do you think?”
“Wonderful,” I replied, with no emotion in my voice. I did not consider myself to be a superstitious person, but wandering through a cemetery at night did not leave me feeling exactly easy, either. “Can we go now?” I asked with little actual hope. I knew what Andi’s response would be before she said it. She was not likely to have spent so much time bringing me here to simply pack up and leave the moment we arrived.
“No. This is part of your surprise,” she said, confirming my fears. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest.”
She grabbed my hand and half led, half dragged me down the final slope of hillside and into the heart of the collection of headstones filling the isolated cemetery. She pulled me directly to one of the four central mausoleums, not stopping until we were almost within its shadow. The structure loomed above us like a huge iron and marble box; at least fifteen feet tall and just as wide, with perhaps forty feet separating the front wall from the back. Four stone gargoyles guarded the moldering residents inside from positions at each corner of the roof, while two more – at least twice the size of the others – perched from parapets jutting above each side of the dual metal doors barring the front entrance. The massive creatures glared down at us, eyes slitted and fanged mouths gaping wide, clearly indicating that trespassers should tread warily.
Andi paused and laid a tentative hand on one of the doors. I thought the eerie surroundings and my own building unease were causing me to hallucinate as I watched her close her eyes and sniff the air. Without warning, she dropped to her hands and knees, lowered her face to the ground, and again inhaled deeply. She reminded me of an animal sniffing for the spoor of another; a predator searching for a competitor or enemy who may have left his scent behind to mark a claim. She spat once into the dirt, then once more on the paving stones that formed a small porch at the front of the mausoleum. She stood and dusted the dirt from the knees of her jeans. Andi then smiled at me as though nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.
I looked at my feet and took a long breath, trying to clear my head and bring myself back to reality. I thought to myself, did I really just witness that? But I knew I had. I wasn’t deluded or hallucinating. This was really happening. However I had gotten to this point, the fact of the matter was that I currently stood in a cemetery located in the middle of nowhere with a creature I barely knew. I loved her with all the passion in my being, but I also had to acknowledge I didn’t know anything about who she was or what she was capable of. I loved her, yes, but that night, for the first time, I realized I did not completely trust her. And I had to admit I might even, perhaps a little, be afraid of her. But it was far too late for that revelation.
“We’re okay,” she said. “We can go in.”
“Go in?” I asked, taking a small involuntary step back. “Why would we want to go in?”
Andi pushed the metal doors and they swung inward, opening under her touch. The metal hinges protested loudly but offered no real resistance. I flinched as the grating screech echoed out through the otherwise perfect silence around us. When quiet reigned once again, I realized I was holding my breath. I think I was waiting for something to rise up out of the ground and raise some kind of objection to the noisy announcement of our presence. But nothing moved, so I forced myself to release the air from my lungs.
The doors of this towering monument to death now stood fully open, but even straining my eyes I could see only shadows inside.
“You don’t want to come in with me?” Andi asked. The smile was still on her face.
“Not really, no,” I replied, still trying to pierce the wall of gloom to see what might be lurking inside – or perhaps what might come rushing out.
Andi pulled her sweatshirt off over her head. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. With a careless flip of her wrist, she tossed the garment over her shoulder and let it fall to the ground. Next, her hands went to work unfastening her belt and the clasp of her pants. More articles of clothing followed the first, and soon she stood naked in the moonlight looking questioningly back at me. “I think you do,” she said with a playful cock of her head. She turned and stepped through the inky black doorway without a second glance in my direction.
It took only a few seconds for fear and concern for self-preservation to be swallowed up by a much more primal urge. In my mind’s eye I saw her again just before the shadows claimed her. Her pale skin caressed by the moonlight. The delicate line of her spine and the two shallow dimples that accented her lower back. I saw the round muscles of her buttocks, alternately clenching and relaxing as she walked away from me, and what common sense I still possessed was quickly shouted down by my baser instincts.
“Shit,” I said aloud, knowing I was making the wrong decision but helpless to change it. With the image of Andi’s naked backside held firmly before me like a mental shield against my fears,
I followed her into the darkness.
As I stepped through the opening, I stumbled down an unexpected flight of stairs. Fortunately there were only three small steps and I was able to catch myself before falling on my face. I found my balance enough to stop my forward momentum, but the darkness quickly overwhelmed me and I became disoriented anew. I felt suddenly claustrophobic, as if the blackness around me were a physical presence pressing in on me. “Andi?” I called out softly, feeling panic blossoming in my chest. I feared if I tried to speak any louder, I might scream. “Where are you?”
“Shush. I’m right here, Love.” Her voice came from only a few feet away, and the sound of it immediately calmed me. I still felt disoriented, and decidedly confused by Andi’s decision to bring me here, but the panic at least subsided. “Close your eyes and let them adjust. Relax and count to one hundred, slowly.”
I did as she instructed. I counted silently in my head and willed my heart beat to slow back to a reasonable pace. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, I also brought my breathing back to something approximating normal.
“One hundred,” I said aloud a few moments later and opened my eyes. The blackness no longer seemed so complete. I found I could now make out a few details of the mausoleum’s interior. Even as I looked around, my vision continued to improve until the moonlight pouring through the doorway became more than sufficient to move about safely.
The roof, floor and two side walls in the building were covered with something pale and smooth; perhaps marble block or tile. If there were murals or paint of any kind, it was still indistinguishable in the limited light. Ornate stone benches also ran the length of the side walls, and periodic recesses offered ledges where what appeared to be glass bowls had been sporadically placed. A closer look revealed the bowls held unlit candles. Most of the candles already seemed to be burnt and melted to the point of uselessness.
I moved further into the deep, single room of the structure and realized for the first time that the walls were intact along their entire length. There were no windows or openings of any kind. The front door was the only way in and out.
I continued my inspection all the way to the back the wall opposite the doors, where what initially appeared to me to be more flat surface with several symmetrical dark patches of color, I could now identify as a series of physical irregularities of shape along its surface. I reached toward the odd shapes, but stopped myself as I realized what I was seeing. In the minimal lighting I could barely make out sixteen metal plates – four rows of four – set in the wall. Each plate measured approximately three feet square, and each had set in its base, a simple metal handle. The arrangement looked to me almost like a series of file drawers holding what could have been centuries of paper documents. I did not need to pull on one of the handles to know behind those small doors rested not papers, but the decomposing ancestors of Andi’s mysterious friend.
Suddenly remembering Andi and the reason I had even come inside in the first place, I looked around the room once more searching for her. I found her standing off to one side, still by the front doors, arms crossed in front of her breasts and watching me closely.
“Do you see me?” she asked when I turned to face her.
“Yes. I see you.”
She lowered her arms and walked seductively toward me. Watching the sway of her hips and the smooth curves of her silhouette did not make me forget that I had entered a cold stone monument to death, but it did make me feel a little better about my decision to do so. I moved to take her in my arms, but she stopped me with an outstretched hand.
“First, take off your clothes,” she ordered. “Then lie down. This is important, and I want to do it right.”
Andi indicated with a sweep of her hand a carpeted area of the floor I had not previously noticed. The carpet, while obviously old, seemed remarkably well preserved considering where it resided. I could make out the swirling shapes of some kind of amorphous pattern, although the darkness made it impossible to guess at its colors.
I removed my clothing and lay down. Andi settled herself on top of me, straddling my hips and placing her hands flat on my bare chest. As her flesh pressed against mine a shiver rippled through me. She felt cold. Too cold. I told myself I was only reacting to the chill of the floor and the macabre surroundings, but somewhere deep in that tiniest part of my mind that was not still focused wholly on my dick, I knew something was wrong. She lowered her face to mine. I saw a flash of white as she smiled.
“Are you ready?” she whispered.
“I guess so,” I said, expecting … I don’t know what. But certainly not what happened next.
“This will hurt. But not for long.”
Before I could react to her words she pinned my shoulders to the floor with the palms of her hands and brought her icy lips to my throat. Razor sharp teeth cut through my skin, tearing through muscle, tendons and veins. Cold suddenly became searing heat as pain and fear exploded in my head together. I screamed. I’m sure I did. I remember the act of screaming, although I don’t remember hearing it. Perhaps there was already too much damage to my vocal chords to force the sound out. Or maybe my brain just short circuited in the horror of what was happening and listening to my own screams was not a priority at that moment. The pain, though, there was no ignoring that. Intense and burning white hot, it flared out from my neck and down my left arm, leaving me with the terrifying sensation that my arm had just been severed from the rest of my body.
In desperation I fought back, thrashing left to right and back again I flailed wildly, trying to free myself from her grasp with every ounce of my strength. I arched my back and swung my arms in an attempt to throw her off of me, but Andi held me effortlessly as she sucked at the wound she had created and drank the blood pulsing from my damaged flesh. I was less than a child in her grasp. I felt her teeth and tongue working at the hole she had chewed into my neck, and I heard her making greedy gulping noises as she hungrily swallowed the warm gore flowing into her mouth. Her naked groin pushed and ground against mine, but there was nothing erotic in her actions. It was the incidental and uncaring contact of an animal feeding on helpless prey. She was a demon devouring a tortured soul, and sex had no part in this ritual.
Oddly, in the midst of having my life violently ripped away from me, I felt a single tear, born of terror, pain, and the deep feeling of betrayal, squeeze from the corner of my tightly closed right eye. It crawled down my cheek to tickle my ear. A small irritation that for an instant claimed my entire attention. I am truly amazed how clearly I recall that single drop of moisture. In the face of my own death, for such a trivial thing to hold center stage in my mind astounds me. Perhaps I focused on it as a symbol of acceptance of my demise. Or it could have been pure escapism; my mind hiding from the horrible reality confronting it by focusing on something of no consequence.
Regardless of the reason, as my attention wandered to track the progress of that tear across my cheek, I stopped struggling. Although still afraid, growing lethargy and the certain knowledge of defeat overwhelmed my desire to fight. I felt my heart slow in my chest as it counted down the remaining seconds of my life. I knew I was finished. I allowed myself to relax into the inevitable. Then, inexplicably, Andi stopped. I opened my eyes and gazed up at her blurry form above me as she raised her head. I blinked a few times to bring her back into focus. She looked at me, intently. Expectantly. My blood covered her face, and thick crimson drops fell from her chin to spatter on my chest. I met her stare and once again marveled at the depth of her eyes. They were as black and endless as the night outside, and I knew that even as she killed me, I still loved her.
“I won’t take you against your will, Gregory,” she said to me. Andi brought her hand to her mouth, pressing the tender underside of her wrist to her sharp, bloodstained teeth. She bit and tore. Blood flowed, oozing slow and thick from the wound she created. “The decision is yours to make, but you have very little time to make it. Drink my blood and accept my world forever, or refuse and find whatever
afterlife awaits you. You can live forever, Gregory. If you wish to. Now decide: drink or die.”
She brought her wrist to my mouth, and as the salty fluid touched my lips I drank. How could I not? Fear of death and the desire to not be separated from her made my decision for me. I could not refuse the promise of eternal life, not when it was Andi who offered it. I made my choice still steeped in ignorance of what I was actually accepting, but even had I known what awaited me, I would make the same decision. Even today – especially today, God forgive me – I would choose to drink.
I swallowed her grisly offering, her sick perversion of Communion, forcing it down even as my life ebbed away.
I felt my lungs collapse and I ceased to breathe. My heart stopped. A second burst of pain exploded in my chest as the muscle ceased to function and blood failed to flow. If anyone ever claims that death is painless, I will reveal them for the ignorant liar that they are. Oxygen depleted organs shut down one by one, and each part of my body reported its demise with messages of fire blasted through my nervous system to my brain. All my thoughts were colored by agony.
At last the brain itself began to fail. Overloaded and oxygen starved, the nervous tissue ceased to function. Mercifully, all pain stopped. All sensation of any kind stopped.
I died.
I wonder sometimes, if I had refused Andi, if God would have accepted my soul that day. I know he will not take it now. There is no redemption for what I have become.
You may think it odd that a creature of my nature should believe in God and souls. But I know them to be real so why shouldn’t I speak of them? Although I have never seen God, I believe no evil such as mine could exist on this earth without some counter-balancing good. And as for souls, I know they exist because I have felt mine. I have felt it fly free, and I have felt it come crashing back down into the filth of corruption.
When Darkness Comes Page 5
