The Shadow Box: Paranormal Suspense and Dark Fantasy Thriller Novels

by Travis Luedke

  “I am so sorry,” he said again. The use of the word what stung him. For one so close to his heart to use it, in reference to him, was a real blow to his already diminishing sense of worth. But could he blame her? “I had no idea you had consecrated blood. If I had known, I would not have done it.”

  Consecrated blood? What do you mean?

  “When you took your vows, the pope blessed you.”

  Yes.

  “It consecrated you and made your blood holy. It is like poison to me. It almost killed me.”

  What are you?

  There it was again. He could not bring himself to look at her. “I am a creation of Lucifer’s. I do his work.”

  She looked abhorred. But that did not ail her the most. You left me. You ran away and left me.

  “I had to, or I would have died. I had to find a cure.”

  And what of me? You left me here. I need a cure too.

  She saw the pain in his eyes.

  He looked desperate. “I do not know what I can do to reverse this.”

  I am going to die! Help me! Please!

  He tugged at his hair in frustration. If there were anything he could do, he would do it. She could see that clearly enough.

  I am afraid. I do not want to die.

  “Oh, Piera,” he said, dropping to his knees beside her. “I would give anything to have you well.”

  Go. Leave me to meet my maker alone.

  “Is that what you want?”

  Yes.

  “I would have stayed with you for all time. I love you, Piera.”

  She closed her eyes. I had fallen in love with you too.

  He turned to leave, but in that moment, another cramp hit her stomach. It exceeded all the others in both extremity and pain. Her body seized. Dracula tried to scan her thoughts, but they were too scrambled. He knew death was upon her.

  Sitting down on her bed, he held her in his arms. Her whole body stiffened. The gangrene that had taken a hold in her feet and hands had reached both her knees and elbows. The whole of her neck and the underside of her chin had turned a ghastly black also.

  He looked up and shouted, “Where is Your mercy? Why can You not spare her this torment? Damn You!”

  Her body fell limp in his arms. She was dead. He laid her back down on the bed and covered her body. The White Ones would come for her soon. She was a good soul and would go to her rightful place. He did not like to be around them and felt anxious at being there when they came. However, he could not leave her all alone like this. He decided then to stay until she had made her journey.

  He sat down on one of the two chairs in the small room. His heart felt heavier than he could ever remember, and the guilt he felt weighed him down. It was a terrible thing he had done, and it would haunt him for eternity. As far back as his memory took him, he did not recall ever crying; not since he had lost Milia many years before. He cried now and he cried hard. His grief was such that he did not see the colour of the aura that appeared around her.

  Her soul rose from her body and hovered there, waiting for them to claim her. He took his head from his hands and looked up. The aura around her was black. He wiped his eyes to ensure he was seeing it correctly.

  “It is black!” he cried out in anguish. “How can it be black?”

  She looked at him with utter contempt. He had destroyed everything for her, even her afterlife. She knew now what awaited her. Just as he said, she was a beauty. In the depths of Hell, it would ensure her an eternity of misery. Every beast that lurked in its bowels would want a piece of her. The awful reality that faced her was that they would have her too.

  He knew it as well. “No!” he cried. “No!”

  A faint sound met his ears, and he stopped to listen. They were coming for her. The Black Ones. She heard it too. With it, he saw the real look of terror on her face.

  He paced about in desperation. “No!” he screamed again.

  The sound grew slowly louder. Piera looked at him as if urging him to do something. It was the worst feeling. He could do nothing.

  Piera saw it first, and her soul screamed out loud for mercy. A porthole opened right there in the room. Through it, three of the Black Ones emerged.

  They had the appearance of tiny monks, as cassocks of the deepest black covered their small bodies. Large black cowls obscured their faces. All he could see of them were their hands and feet. These looked as black as their clothes. They were unnaturally long, with even longer claws at the end of each of the three digits. It meant they could only hobble and not walk.

  Piera tried to escape them, but she had nowhere to turn. Her soul could not move away from her dead body. Dracula swung at one of them. His fist passed straight through it as though it were thin air.

  It turned and growled at him in a way that sent a shiver through him. Piera screamed as the other two grabbed her, taking his focus back to her. Because she fought them, they cut her arms and legs to pieces with their claws. They showed her the Abyss before dragging her down into it.

  The porthole closed again, and Piera disappeared with it to the depths of Hell. Dracula was beside himself with grief. He paced about the room. There had to be something he could do. “Lucifer!” he shouted.

  He waited for a response, but it did not come.

  “Lucifer!” he bellowed again, so loud that his voice echoed off the walls. “Lucifer! Lucy! Whatever your damned name is! I want to see you in the here and now!”

  Again, there was no response to his call. He began to grow really agitated. “If you do not come, I shall end this all.”

  A large cloud of smoke appeared from nowhere that reeked of sulphur. When it cleared, Lucifer stood before him. Dracula saw the anger in his eyes. He could do nothing when his master grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the wall.

  Lucifer glared at him. “You shall do what?”

  Dracula struggled for breath, Lucifer possessing strength far superior to his. “You know what I said.”

  “You do not want to make a habit of it.”

  “I had to get your attention.”

  “You think I have nothing better to do? You think I must come for every little whim of yours?”

  “There has been a mistake.”

  Lucifer looked to the bed. “You mean her?”

  “Yes, and only you can rectify it.”

  “There has been no mistake.”

  “Then why did yours come for her? She was pure in heart and soul.”

  “She may have been, but you put an end to that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She gave herself to you.”

  “I gave her no choice.”

  “They all have a choice. She sold her soul to you. That means it belongs to me.”

  “No!” Dracula protested in a rage. “I stole away her innocence. She is an innocent.”

  “Not any longer.”

  “You have to give her back!”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes!”

  Lucifer tossed him across the room. “I do not have to do anything. Nor shall I.”

  “Then I shall end my existence. That would release her soul.”

  “She is in the Hall of Justice as we speak. Once she has gone before the Great Balance, nothing you can do shall bring her back.”

  “Then I should make haste.”

  “Go ahead. I need only find another to take your place.”

  “If it were that simple, you would have done so already.”

  “How do you know I have not?”

  “You would not have come.”

  “You are beginning to vex me.”

  “I no longer care.”

  “You had best care.”

  “If her soul is damned, that is the end of it for me.”

  “There is never an end.”

  “Then do as you will. I care not anymore.”

  “If you die, your soul still comes to me. I could give you a fate in Hell worse than any other has endured.”

&nb
sp; “Then so be it.”

  Lucifer clenched his fists in anger. “She is but a mortal! What do you care what becomes of her?”

  “It is not right. She does not belong there.”

  “She does belong there! Lest she would not be there!”

  “I do not accept that.”

  “It is the way of the world. Grow accustomed to it, and fast!”

  “I have given you many souls. What does one more matter to you?”

  “They all matter. Every soul counts. I fight God for every one of them. I cannot release one on a whim, to satisfy you.”

  “Then take me down too. For I shall do your work no more.”

  Lucifer struck him with a forearm. He glared at Dracula as his protégé crashed against a wall. “I cannot believe I am even thinking of this. Do not make me regret my faith in you,” he warned, almost in a hiss. “Come, she is in the Hall of Justice.”

  Piera stood in the long queue, in a huge cavern. Every soul claimed that day stood in the queue with her. They all knew why they were there and what was about to happen.

  She eyed the great scales that dominated the hall. It was the Great Balance. The heart of everyone that passed through here sat on them. One at a time, they weighed the hearts against the Feather of Maat. If the heart was light on the scale, then the soul passed to the monster, Ammit. Nobody looking on wanted that.

  A huge horned beast sat on a chair beside the scales. His name was Thoth, and he was the Keeper of Records. The book that rested on his lap, even when opened, stood taller than any person in the queue.

  “Next!” he shouted.

  His voice boomed like a drum and echoed off the vast walls of the cavern. Piera and the others watched the two demon soldiers drag the next soul from the queue.

  “Bring him before the Great Balance!” Thoth ordered.

  The man they pulled from the queue looked regal in appearance. He wore clothes of the finest silk embroidered with precious stones. A white turban remained fixed upon his head. One of the soldiers ripped it away.

  He tried to fight them off when they did this. The second soldier lashed him across the legs with the whip, to which the man cried out and fell down. When the soldier pulled the whip clear, he screamed again in agony. Piera eyed the spectacle with fear, her hands shaking the whole time. The ugly spikes on the whip dripped with blood.

  “Forget the turban,” Thoth said. “There is no religion here. Stand him up.”

  The soldiers dragged him to his feet. Another demon stepped up to him from the Great Balance. His clawed right hand dripped with blood.

  “State your name!” Thoth ordered.

  “I am Bahlul Khan Lodhi,” he gasped. “The first sultan of the Lodhi Dynasty.”

  The demon with the bloodied hand stood before him.

  “Wait!” Thoth said. “Something is amiss. You met your death more than two moons past in the mortal realm. Why are you only appearing before me on this day?”

  An advisor whispered into Thoth’s ear. He explained the Afghan had spent a short period in limbo before coming here.

  Thoth nodded. “That would explain that. It also explains why the Grand General has not already laid claim to you. I am advised you were quite a warrior.”

  Lodhi bowed, though still shaking from fear of the whip. “I was one of the finest.”

  “Then let us hope your heart is not light on the scale. The Grand General would be most upset.”

  The demon punched his clawed hand into Lodhi’s chest. The sultan dropped to his knees in pain. Before he could look up, the demon ripped Lodhi’s heart from him. Lodhi fell onto his hands and knees. His arms stiffened and dropped to his sides as he rolled over onto his back. To those looking on, he appeared to be suffering from a seizure of some kind.

  “Fear not,” Thoth said to him. “The heart is no longer of use to you. Place it on the Great Balance,” he ordered the demon. “Let us see what it decides.”

  The demon placed the dead heart onto the right of the two mighty scales. He stepped back and out of the way.

  “Place the Feather of Maat on the other side,” Thoth said.

  A demoness stepped forward with the huge feather. She rested it down on the opposite scale. A brilliant blue arc appeared between the two. They bobbed gently from side to side as they tried to find a perfect balance.

  Everyone in the great hall watched the scales. Piera looked beyond them, her eyes falling on the mighty figure of Horus. Even sitting down, the deity reached up a good thirty feet above the floor. The head of a falcon rested on his shoulders. She saw large numbers of people on the floor at his feet. They threw themselves down and cried out his name.

  After a short time, the arc became a perfect line. The demon that placed the heart on the scale announced the result. “The heart of Lodhi has made a perfect balance.”

  Thoth dipped his quill and recorded the result in his great book. “You are free to pass to the Field of Offerings,” he said to Lodhi. “I wish you luck on your way.”

  The wall behind Thoth opened, and the sultan passed through it.

  “Next!” Thoth shouted.

  Lucifer and Dracula appeared in the mighty cavern. Many of those in the queue cowered at the mere sight of the Dark Lord. He did not need an introduction. Everyone present knew his identity.

  “Stop!” Thoth ordered, as the soldiers dragged the next soul from the queue. “Majesty, for what reason do you grace us with your presence?”

  “I have come for the woman called Piera Rossi.”

  “Is she here?” Thoth asked his advisor.

  “I see her,” Dracula said, pointing her out.

  Thoth looked across. “Step forward, girl.”

  Dracula met her gaze when she stepped out of the queue. His guilt remained etched across his face. Her heart pounded in her chest when she saw him there, though she did not feel any joy. However, she knew his presence meant she might get a reprieve. For that alone, she was grateful.

  “What do you want with her, Majesty?” Thoth asked.

  “I am sending her back.”

  “That is highly irregular.”

  “She has not yet made the Great Balance, so your records are not short.”

  “Indeed, Majesty.”

  “Good, then she can go back. I shall compensate you at a later time.”

  Thoth bowed. “As you wish, Majesty.”

  Lucifer turned to Piera. “Go, girl. Return to your body.”

  She vanished from the hall. Lucifer then turned to Dracula. “You can go too. Do not summon me at any time without good cause.”

  Dracula found himself back in Piera’s room. Her soul hovered there again above her body. This time, a white aura surrounded her. She offered him a faint smile. Thank you, Vlad.

  A brilliant white beam fell into the room from the heavens. He smiled back at her. “It is time for me to leave. Farewell, dear Piera.”

  Chapter 14

  HUNGARY. THE ROYAL PALACE OF

  KING MATTHIAS CORVINUS AT BUDA.

  DECEMBER 11, 1489.

  Dracula left at once for Buda, his need for a companion taking him there. Piera was lost to him and all his hopes now rested on Ilona, the wife who had survived him. They had shared passion, and even love, a rare thing among people of their status. It was his last hope to satisfy this urgent need in him. She was his only hope. Perhaps she would go with him if she saw him in the flesh.

  His heart raced hard as he flew high over the city. He found the palace of Matthias with ease from the skies. For thirteen long years during his mortal life, the youngest of the Hunyadis had kept him there as a captive.

  He wondered how Ilona would receive him. She had not seen him in fourteen years. Since the night at Snagov, she believed him dead. Her period of mourning was long past now.

  Still, he knew he had to try or he faced an eternity alone. With all his powers, it was not enough. He had to have someone at his side to travel with him through the ages. One such as Ilona. She was one of the very few who h
ad loved him in his mortal life. Nobody else had ever given him what she had, and he wanted to feel that again.

  The sound of her breathing called out to him. He would know it anywhere. It led him to her bedchamber, where he stole his way inside and found her asleep in her bed.

  He sat on the edge, close to one of her arms. The sight of her lying there did something to him inside. He quietly watched her sleep. She remained beautiful to him despite her advancing years.

  On his last occasion here, he had done nothing and left her be, despite the many hours he had watched her. This time, he could take it no more. He leant over and gently kissed her on the lips. His touch, though tender, disturbed her, and she stirred slightly in the bed. He eased back when she moved, as though afraid he might wake her.

  She emitted a soft sigh and drifted back to sleep. He leant over again and kissed her a second time. It was a firmer kiss than the first. As much as he tried, he could not fight the passion he still had for her. His need to have her at his side fuelled it further still.

  It awoke her with a start, and she sat upright in the bed. Her eyes tried to focus in the dark. She held her hands up in front of her, fearful of the intruder she knew lurked close by. “Who is there?”

  He did not enjoy the look of fear in her eyes. “Ilona, my love, it is I.”

  The voice seemed familiar. It made her more curious than afraid when he spoke. Ilona, my love? Who would dare call me that? She lit a lamp on her bedside table so she could see him. It lit the area around her. There he sat, only a few feet away.

  When she saw his face, she almost fainted. “Vlad? It cannot be you.”

  “Yes, my love, it is I. Do not be afraid. I could never harm you.”

  “But how can this be? You died at Snagov, thirteen years ago.”

  “As strange as it may appear, I am here.”

  He told her the story of the events that night. She hung on his every word as he moved on to the story of his afterlife. In spite of all he had done, he omitted none of the gruesome detail. The only part he did not speak of was Piera.

  Ilona sat in silence for a time, taking some time to digest all that he had told her. She did not fear him. Just as he said, he could never harm her. That much she was sure of. Her father, Mihály Szilágy, knew her husband in the old days. Through him, she learned of how brutal he was in power. He spoke too of Dracula’s honour, and of the occasion he had spared her father’s life. This was long before they married, or had even met.