by Drew D'Amato
“Is that the truth now, or are you working with them, Father?” Bandini asked. “Are you some bait to lure us out so that they can have the Blood again?”
“We have always said we wanted to see the Blood destroyed, not ever that we wanted to take it. We wanted to get in contact with you before you made a mistake with it. Used it on yourself to fight vampires that no longer exist.”
“If your goals are so noble, then why did you kill a defenseless man like Henderson?”
“Because you were not cooperating,” Vlad said. “His death is on your head. We only have one purpose here, to see the Blood destroyed and that there are no more vampires on this earth. We are determined enough to blow up us and everything in this Holy See to kingdom come. I’m sorry your friend had to die, but you had to take us seriously.”
“So there are no more vampires?”
“No,” Pacami said. “Radu and Vlad are dead, all that is left on this earth is that Blood. Will you destroy it, or will we have to do it ourselves.”
Bandini looked over at the two men. He contemplated his options.
“Father, this ritual was called tonight so that we can witness the destruction of this Blood.”
Vlad didn’t buy it. It seemed too elaborate just to throw some blood down the drain. He had a feeling something else was planned.
“We believe the best option is to burn the Blood itself.” Bandini took out a zippo lighter and handed it to Pacami. “Please Father, feel free to do it yourself. But as you get up there please place the Dark Bible on the altar, that was your end of the bargain.”
“Yes, of course,” Pacami said.
Pacami and Vlad walked up the steps to under the Baldacchino toward the altar. Pacami put the Bible down on the altar and then put his hands on the silver urn. Vlad kept his eyes peeled on the Crusaders in case they decided to try anything, but he knew the dead man’s switch would keep them honest.
Pacami opened the top of the urn. This was the moment. He had to drink this now, there would be no chance to bring it back to Malachi. They had to strike now while they had the upper hand and the element of surprise. Vlad hoped Pacami would do the right thing. He had gone this far, why not go all the way?
Pacami grasped the urn and chugged the blood down his throat. Some of it spilled onto his body. He finished it all quickly. He felt a little light headed. He didn’t hesitate. He reached for the small .22 with a silencer, Vlad had given him, that he kept in his pocket under his C-4 vest. He didn’t think, he didn’t want to hesitate. He pulled it out and shot himself dead in the temple.
Vlad froze, amazed at the man’s bravery and determination. But then too much time passed and Pacami’s body still hadn’t moved. Vlad’s body went numb. This wasn’t right. He zoned out. Then he felt it.
Suddenly his right hand felt lighter, a hand pressed him down to his knees. He heard the gun cock behind him. He kept his eyes open, and saw Roberto carefully handed the dead man’s switch over to Bandini. Bandini walked to Vlad holding the switch and a victorious smile.
“He’s supposed to wake up now isn’t he?” Bandini smirked.
“What did you do with the real blood?”
“We’ll get to that. I promise you a full quid pro quo, but first you tell me the truth about you. You’re not his nephew are you? Who are you then?”
Don’t say Vlad, they will kill you on principle. The wouldn’t believe it anyway. Not with his new haircut, and trimmed face.
“I was one of Vlad’s men.” He decided to still say he was something valuable. Maybe that would hesitate the bullet piercing the back of the brain. “Everything the Father said was true about how he met us, up to the part about him having a nephew who was in the army. We found this priest, forced him to perform the exorcism, and Vlad became a human again. Vlad did this because he thought Radu was dead.”
“So he wanted to be a human for a while?”
“Yes, he was not as evil as you might have perceived. Radu was the evil bastard.”
“Oh I am well aware of how evil Radu is. He has been working for the Crusaders for years. Who do you think told him to inspire Stoker to write his book?”
Vlad felt betrayed by his enemies. Radu working with the Crusaders made sense. It explained why Radu appeared to have no concern that the Crusaders had discovered the coffer. What he couldn’t figre out was why they were working together.
“Why have you been working with Radu?”
“Oh we are not in union with him, consider it a Machiavellian effort. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. The death of Vlad was our first mission, and then we turned our attention to Radu. I’m sure he feels the same and is planning to betray us too.”
“You know he is alive too?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell him we were coming to Geneva?”
“Why would we allow Radu the chance to take out Vlad, us, and the coffer too, all in the same night? Can I ask how you learned Radu was still alive?”
“He killed Jericho.”
“The vampire that talked to Peterson? How did he manage that?”
“He tracked us back to our home.”
“He knew where you lived?”
“Of course.” Vlad saw this information dawn on Bandini’s face. Now he felt betrayed. “Oh, he told you he had no idea where we lived. He always wanted to see Vlad die himself. He wouldn’t let your men have that glory. You may have worked with him, but trust me, he never worked with you. He just used you to keep your attention off him and on us.”
Bandini shook his head to shake off the betrayal on his face. “So you learned Radu was alive, so Vlad drank the blood, and killed himself. Only this time he didn’t resurrect and you called the priest and knew the blood was fake. You followed the lead of the business card over to Europe. But you did not come alone did you, the cop that Henderson said was in his store was another vampire wasn’t he—I’m sorry, ex-vampire. There are more of you aren’t there?”
“Yes.”
“Where are they?”
“With a gun to my head I still won’t tell you. It’s the only leverage I have over you.” His only leverage was bullshit.
“Fair enough. Well, your story now does make sense except for one point.” Bandini looked back at Pacami’s corpse. “Why did he try to drink the blood?”
“Because he had a strong constitution.”
“Explain.”
“With Vlad and Jericho dead, there was no clear idea of who should become the next master vampire. It got to the point where we started fighting and then Pacami spoke. He believed in our cause, and did not want to risk the existence of any more vampires on this earth. So he cut a deal with us. He would help us, but he would become the master vampire, not any of us. This did two things, first we stopped fighting over who to should have this power, and also once Radu was dead for sure, the priest would take his own life, clearing the world of vampires completely as we became human again. We all agreed because we all trusted this man. He was a good man, brave.”
“Interesting, well I promised you full quid pro quo. Now it’s my turn.” Bandini nodded to the Crusaders at the base of the Baldacchino. One of them walked away from the group, and up the stairs with an urn in his hands. He placed the urn on the altar, nodded to Bandini, and then made his way back down to the rest of the group.
Bandini turned back to Vlad with a smile. “This ceremony was not designed tonight to destroy the Blood, but to use the Blood. To defeat Radu himself, betray the betrayer. And then show the powers of the vampire to the world. Once people see this they will turn away from their false God, science, that cannot explain this anamoly of vampires, and turn to Christianity that can. Proving all other religions false and putting faith back into the church.” Bandini put the urn on the altar.
“Your God does not want the creation of vampires to be revealed to the world—it will bring about the end of days. You will be jumping into the express lane for the Apocalypse.”
“I’ve read the Dark Bibl
e myself. He warned Judas, that was part of his penance, but Judas is dead. We will be doing the Lord’s work.”
“Nothing this church does is the Lord’s work.”
“Oh, instead His will is done through the hands of vampires? It is time again for men of the cloth to have the power of vampires like the Templars did.”
“You still need me. You have to worry about Radu. I know more about him than any of you can know. I just want to see him die, let me help you.”
“Actually that is exactly what I have in mind. You will be one of the first vampires I make. I hope we can forgive each other for the deaths of our friends, Henderson and your priest. An eye for an eye right? Let’s unite to destroy Radu.”
“And you will be the master vampire, I take it?” Perfect and then once I kill Radu, I will kill you next. I will be a human, Radu will be dead, and I will have Jasmine. There is still a way this could all work in my favor.
“What makes you think there will just be one master vampire?”
“What?”
“Every Crusader is here, we are all going to be a master vampire ourselves. No need to put all our eggs in one basket.” Vlad’s eyes widened in fear, Bandini continued. “There is a third plan for us besides killing Radu and putting faith back in the church. Aquiring the power the Templars had. We will run the governments of Europe, the banks…the world.”
This was worse then just the idea of Radu. Radu was still just one master vampire, cut off the head and kill the snake. But this was a much worse fate, a cabal of master vampires. Vlad couldn’t just kill Bandini, he would have to kill all of them, and he wouldn’t be able to do that. The world would be controlled by these bastards. Playing along in their plan wasn’t an option. He had to drink the blood himself, he had to become a master vampire again—forever. This was his salvation, and there was no salvation without sacrifice. He had to give up Jasmine, he had to save the world.
“But I will be the first to drink from it,” Bandini said and turned to walk back to the altar.
Vlad had to think fast, but his options were limited. He did have a gun at point-blank range to the back of his head. The options were few. He was about fifteen feet from the altar, brute force would not be enough. He had to be smooth, he had to get close enough.
“Bandini, how much are you going to drink?”
“What?” Bandini said turning around confused.
“How much are you going to drink? You do understand that if you do this wrong, you will die. Not by the blood, but when you are killed to be reborn, you won’t be…reborn.”
Bandini stopped and thought about this. The Dark Bible had never mentioned how much blood they used, because that was never an issue because they had so much. They were not concerned with wasting it, but this was the last of the golden goose.
As if he read his mind Vlad continued. “I understand everyone here except myself will drink from it. You have to conserve enough to go around, and enough to not kill you.”
“There are 37 ounces of that blood inside there, we know that. There are 21 men here including me. Is an ounce not enough?”
“What do you think, it’s just a taste of the blood you need, just a splash like going to a water-fountain? No, it’s not enough. I think I just saved your life.”
“So you are saying we can’t give this to all of my men?”
“Not for it to work, no.”
“Then how many men?”
“I don’t know, that requires math.”
“I am well aware of the process of division.” Bandini was growing annoyed, he obviously smelled that he was up to some kind of trick. “How much blood does it take?”
“I don’t know, but I can tell you when you have enough. From there we can figure out the rest.”
“What do you suggest?”
“First, can we get this gun off the back of my head?” Bandini’s eyes said no. “I’m not going to try anything, you’re going to make me a vampire and kill Radu, I’m fine with it. Besides, you are still holding my dead man’s switch.”
Bandini thought about it. “Let him come here, but remember I still have the switch.”
Vlad walked closer. “I would suggest you letting me pour the blood into your mouth, and I will stop when I feel enough has passed. From there you can figure out how many doses you have left.”
“Not going to happen, you can watch me drink it and say when.”
“You have my switch, in case I try anything.”
“I’d rather not have to use it at this proximity.”
Vlad was now face to face with Bandini. “Fine, but can you then carefully give my switch to someone else. You’re going to need both hands to hold that urn.”
Bandini blinked with realization. He hadn’t thought about holding the switch and holding the urn. He looked and then motioned to the Crusader on his left. The Crusader responded. Vlad had his opening.
He swiped at the switch. It fell out of Bandini’s hands. For a second Bandini and the other Crusaders froze as they watched the switch fall, then tried to catch it before it hit the floor. Vlad moved quick. He took the urn off the altar and then leaped over the gold chain and down into the Confession in front of the altar, gulping from the urn as he fell.
“It’s a fake, kill him,” Bandini said when he realized there was no bang that followed. He kept his eyes on the ungripped switch on the floor.
Four Crusaders—Roberto included—rushed to the edge of the Baldacchino and shot up Vlad as he finished the rest of the blood on the Confessional’s floor. He took bullets in his chest, legs and head. Vlad had died again.
Bandini appeared behind them and looked down at Vlad. He lied face up, dead. One bullet had struck him in his right temple. His right hand was under his back. Blood was all over the floor but none of it was from the urn. Bandini saw the urn roll around on the ground—it was empty.
“Do you have silver bullets in that gun now?” Bandini asked Roberto to his side.
“Those are the only bullets we ever load in our guns.”
“Keep your guns pointed on him and wait for him to awake, anything now will be a waste.”
Roberto aimed the gun at Vlad’s chest. The red laser went right in the middle of the vest between the blocks of useless C-4. A silver bullet then followed right after the laser sight. He fired into his heart, direct hit.
Bandini looked at him, frustrated.
“Worth a try,” Roberto said.
“Just wait,” ordered Bandini.
4
Vlad had been on this ride before, but then he actually thought it was death. However, this time was different. Last time it was all black, hot, and felt like he moved downward, toward the heat. Now what he felt was soft, and he was surrounded by white light and a feeling of ascension. Did this mean something? He did not want to think of that now. Now he braced himself for when he would be pulled back. It happened like a snap. Last time he felt like he was going back up, this time he felt like he was coming back down. He knew what would be next.
He lay on the Confession floor. He felt the warm blood soak his back. He did not open his eyes, but let his other senses do the work. He had them back, his vampire ones. He could tell by the sounds of breathing, and the smell of humans, that the Crusaders were looking down at him from over the Baldacchino. They were waiting for him to respond with their guns drawn. Then he heard someone moving away from the Baldacchino.
“Men, be prepared for some action from outside. There are more of his men around here,” Bandini said.
Vlad heard the sound of guns cocking and Bandini walking off the Baldacchino. Seven men started to make their way out of the Basilica to look for anyone suspicious out in St. Peter’s Square. Still he could tell there were a few men with their guns aimed at him. He wasn’t worried about them, he had his insurance. Underneath his bomb vest were two Heckler and Koch MP5K’s strapped to his back loaded with silver bullets—just in case the Crusaders had decided to drink the blood before their meeting—and a hand grenade on
his belt.
He pulled the pin first. He had his vampire speed back and for a moment was amazed at the speed he threw the grenade up at the Baldacchino. The four Crusaders instinctively ducked out of the way. Roberto managed to get a shot off, but his aim was bad. He was distracted ducking the grenade. The grenade exploded within the Baldacchino, killing the four Crusaders. Two died instantly, one lost an arm and a leg and bled out. Roberto avoided the initial explosion but the columns of the Baldacchino gave out and the canopy came down, crushing his skull into pieces. The Baldacchino was on fire. The Baldacchino from the seventeenth century that became a tourist attraction and a strong sign of the Catholic faith had been destroyed. Two of the columns still stood, the other two fell out. The canopy for the most part was still just one big piece, the same could not be said for Roberto’s brain.
Vlad rose out of the Confession, and the smoke of the explosion created an image like a Phoenix rising from the ashes. In the chaos, Vlad took off the vest of C-4, dropping it into the Confession, and unholstered his two small MP5K’s.
The seven who almost made it out of the Basilica turned around. Floating in the air at about the height of where the Baldacchino was, hung Vlad. The Crusaders shot their silver bullets back at Vlad but to no avail. He dodged the bullets like he was dodging a beach ball. He shot and killed two more—one from each gun—that were right below him.
He did a backflip in the air over the Baldacchino. The remaining Crusaders, now fifteen, followed after him, guns blazing with no respect for the priceless relics in the room. Vlad had no respect for anything in the room. He flew back to St. Peter’s chair and sat in it, watching the Crusaders with amusement.
The Crusaders aimed and fired. Four shots hit him center mast. He laughed and ripped open his shirt to reveal a bullet-proof vest. Vlad laughed at them.
“After Geneva I knew you idiots didn’t use armor-piercing bullets. My turn.”
Without even moving from the chair Vlad killed eight men, four from each gun. It was like a kid playing a first-person shooter video game. He just aimed and squeezed the trigger. He ran out of rounds. He took out two more magazines and loaded one gun after the other, while he looked at the seven survivors giving them a stare that meant certain death.
