Discovery of Death

by A. P. Fuchs

“Yes. You cannot go out into the sun any more than a rock can swim.”

  “Why not?”

  “No more questions. Your father will fill you in on more later. You’ve already learned so much since you’ve awoken with us.” Mira sniffed the air. “Come this way. I smell a human.”

  Zach followed her through the trees, past bushes, all the while finding it amazing that with each of their footfalls, they scarcely made a sound.

  Soon they emerged through another set of trees. Mira said, “Look what’s happened.” She pointed to the tree in front of them, and despite it being dark, every single detail was clear. A woman was tied to the tree, bound, blindfolded and gagged. She wore a long coat which was partly open, revealing some kind of dark, thick outfit beneath.

  Mira approached her, but said to Zach, “Watch where you step.” Two silver swords lay on the ground. “Do not touch them.” She then added into his mind: One cut can bring disaster.

  They approached the woman. Her scent—a combination of vanilla perfume and the rich, coppery smell of the blood coursing through her veins—sent the image of Zach’s thirst before his eyes, along with the darkness and rage that accompanied it.

  The woman moaned something from behind the gag.

  “Interesting, very interesting,” Mira said, walking her fingers up the woman’s face. “You’re not going to scream, now, are you, if I remove the gag?”

  The woman didn’t respond.

  “Are you!”

  She shook her head.

  “Good. If you make a single sound, I will pluck out your tongue and put a hole in your throat. Am I clear?”

  It took a moment, but the woman nodded.

  Zach envisioned silky red blood gushing from a wound in the woman’s neck. He went right up to her, his tongue aching to lick her skin.

  “Soon, my son, soon.” Mira removed the woman’s gag. “It seems something went terribly wrong tonight, didn’t it?”

  “Yes,” the woman flatly said.

  “Were you alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Mira looked at Zach and mouthed the words, “She’s lying.”

  How does she kn—

  In reply, Mira spoke into his mind: Do you not hear the blood pumping through her veins? Do you not hear it racing through her body?

  Zach listened. Low, rapid pulses of fluid filled his ears. “I do.”

  “Let me show you, my son, the punishment for lying.”

  The woman’s body went stiff. “I am ready. Your victory tonight is but a small loss for us. It has been an honor serving in the war against vermin such as you.”

  “Tsk, tsk,” Mira said, “strong words for someone who is about to die. And, yes, tonight you will die. I will not give you the honor of becoming one of us, though, I suppose, that would be a worse fate for you, would it not?”

  The woman closed her mouth. Zach saw the muscles in her jaw tighten.

  “Come here, my son,” Mira said.

  He came beside her.

  “What you want is this thick artery here,” she said, pointing to it on the neck. “Breach that, and you can drink until she is no more.” Suddenly, Mira’s face distorted; her brow protruded from her skull; her cheekbones rose high on her face, nearly bursting through her skin; her mouth opened wide, revealing inch-long razor sharp teeth. She clamped her mouth around the woman’s neck. The woman let out a gasp, then screamed, her cries distorted by the blood bubbling in her throat.

  A wave of excitement passed through Zach, the darkness within growing stronger until fire lit up his face as the bones and muscles beneath his skin realigned themselves for the feeding to come.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Marcus nearly lost control of the knife when the vampire jerked its body to the side. His eyes were closed. His lungs pounded in need of air. The pain in his head was now in his temples. He envisioned tiny screwdrivers driving into his skull on either side of his eye sockets.

  With as hard a thrust as he could muster, he plunged the knife into the vampire’s chest. He yanked it out and stabbed it again. He did it a third time and the vampire’s flailing ceased.

  Got him. Frantically, Marcus headed toward the surface.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Zach needed to drink. “Mother, please,” he said, catching himself calling her “mother” for the first time since they met.

  Mira withdrew from the woman’s neck, blood running down her chin. With a hiss, she nodded in the woman’s direction.

  Instinct took over. It was as if some outside force guided Zach’s mouth to the precise spot on the woman’s neck where he needed to be. Maybe his mother was helping. It didn’t matter. He had to partake.

  He wrapped his mouth around the woman’s neck, then bit down, his fangs filling the holes Mira created. His mother’s fingers wrapped themselves on either side of his lips and guided them to make a seal around the wound, locking the blood in. The moment the blood hit Zach’s tongue, an electrifying pulse shot through him. Bright blue stars danced before his vision as his entire body rode waves of pure pleasure with each gulp of blood. He sucked and swallowed, losing himself in the moment, letting go of the present and falling into eternity. There was no time in this place of feeding. Just utter, body-shaking pleasure. His knees buckled with each wave of euphoria. Mind-blowing surges of joy and pain shot through every muscle in his body. Orgasm after orgasm, his body convulsed as he sucked the blood from the woman’s neck.

  He couldn’t stop drinking. It tasted so good. Each mouthful of liquid that slid down his throat lit a fire within and like a wild man he had to have his way and drink the woman dry.

  When the blood was gone, he released his bite, stumbled back and fell to the ground. He lay there quivering, the aftermath of sheer euphoria taking him.

  15

  After throwing up a lungful of river water, Marcus ran out from between the trees. “Shelly!” His steps immediately slowed upon seeing her. “Oh no. Shelly . . .”

  He could barely stand. Despite all the blood he’d seen spilled in his lifetime, despite the nightmares, the fighting, the war, he wasn’t prepared for this.

  What was left of Shelly’s body was still bound to the tree, her head hanging to one side. No weight was upon her feet. She just hung there limp, and he knew she was dead. He came up to his wife and raised a hand to touch her. It took a few moments before he could. Once he touched her, it would become final. He placed his hand on her cheek; her skin was cool, dry, not even a hint of moisture. His eyes travelled over her body and he saw the wound, a deep gash in her neck as wide and long as a vampire’s mouth. Tears filled his vision and all he wanted to do was scream. He even tried, not caring if any undead haunting the forest heard him. All that came out was a raspy call, thick with anguish and tears.

  Heart aching, he took his knife and cut Shelly free from her bonds. She collapsed into his arms. Marcus slowly lowered themselves to the ground and held her in his lap.

  Shaking, he let the pain take him and put his face against hers. Tears poured over her lifeless body.

  “You can’t be dead,” he said. “You can’t. We’re a team. I love you. You’re my wife. Please, don’t go.”

  Though he and Shelly had both prepared for and talked about this day, each prayed it would never come.

  It was over. His life was over. Without Shelly, there was nothing. Nothing except . . . Rose. The poor girl lost her mother tonight. No child should, especially to murder.

  But what if she turns? Marcus thought. Even in the poor lighting, it was clear Shelly’s skin was void of color. The skin was pale yellow, the blood having ceased pumping through it for some time now.

  Marcus knew the final step, knew that even though it seemed his wife was dead, he had to make sure it would remain that way. The change varied from person to person. Sometimes it was mere minutes. Other times it took several months. Time was of the essence.

  “I’m so sorry, sweetie,” he said, laying her hea
d on the ground. He could barely straighten himself to carry out the task at hand.

  As gently as he could, he put the tip of the knife to his wife’s chest, holding it upright above her skin.

  “May God have mercy on the lives we led. May you find peace in His presence, and may He also explain to you why He let these creatures of Hell take the lives of so many, especially yours.”

  Tears blurring his vision, he raised the knife . . . and brought it down.

  16

  Rose wasn’t far from home, and good thing, too. She was getting cold and her legs were sore from walking.

  But it did you good, the walk, she thought. Got some of the frustration out. Took your mind off things. Fresh air does wonders and all that. Going to rub it into Parker whenever I see him.

  She turned a corner and headed down her street, looking forward to getting into bed for a good night’s sleep.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Zach and his mother stood on top of the Richardson Building, looking out over the city. The streetlights below created a golden grid dotted with the white and red lights of cars.

  “I’m proud of you, son,” Mira said. “How do you feel?”

  He heard his mother’s voice, but was too lost in the sights below to offer a reply.

  “Zach?”

  He turned to her. “Changed. Complete. It’s like before I was on the ledge of this building, learning what I am and who we are. Once I fed, it’s like I dove off the ledge and plunged down to the city below to be among the people, really be encompassed by them.”

  She nodded.

  “Do you understand?”

  “I do. A vampire’s first feed is the final step in their transformation. Though you still have much to learn about your heritage, you are now truly one of us. There’s no going back.”

  “I don’t want to. I don’t remember what it was like, so I’m not missing anything, and based on what you’ve taught me, why would I want to be something less than I am now?”

  She smiled. “When you drank, what did you feel?”

  “Pure pleasure, Mother. My whole body shook with it.”

  “Good.”

  “I felt my strength grow. I feel like I can do anything.”

  “You can.”

  “My thoughts are so clear, no longer fuzzy images and muted voices. I can see everything I want and need so clearly now.”

  “As it should be.”

  “And—” Zach dropped to his knees as his equilibrium disappeared. Darkness covered his vision and he sensed the transition of the images in his mind actually appearing before him.

  He saw the woman on the tree, bound and blindfolded. A bright white flash snatched the image away, fading into the same woman walking the streets of Winnipeg in her long coat, moving through the forest by the river. Another bright flash and the woman was in an armory of some kind, gathering weapons and dressing herself. Another flash and the woman kissed a man.

  There was a white flash between each image, Zach following the woman back through moments of her life before her death. The woman was kissing a man in a kitchen, in a bed. She walked the hallway of a house that Zach thought was familiar. A darkened room and a young girl lying in bed, her head turned away from the door. Putting in a sign outside a house reading sold; arguing in a kitchen with a beautiful young woman that reminded Zach of flowers; the same three people sitting around a dinner table, eating. Another flash and they were around the dinner table again, but someone else was with them.

  A violent tingle swept through Zach’s body when he recognized the other person: it was himself.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Rose entered her house, flicked on the light in the landing, took off her shoes and went to the kitchen.

  “Hello?” she called into the dark house.

  No reply.

  She checked the kitchen table and saw her note, and immediately recognized her father’s handwriting beneath her own.

  Had to run back to the office. Should be back soon.

  Sorry.

  Dad

  “Well, whatever,” she said, used to her parents’ haphazard schedule. What about Mom? And it’s really late, too.

  It felt good to be back home.

  Just going to head upstairs, put on pajamas and crash. The bath will have to wait, she thought.

  It was only when she entered her room and saw the Heart Box that she thought about Zach again. For a short while there, she hadn’t, and felt all the better for it.

  With a sigh, she put the box in a nook under her night table and changed into her pajamas. She hit the bathroom to give her hair and teeth a brush, then went back to her room and crawled under the covers.

  “What a sucky night,” she said. “Just one thing after another.”

  She hoped her parents would be back soon. She didn’t want to be alone in the house too much longer. Just knowing her folks were sleeping in the next room was enough to provide the security she needed right now and help her have a good night’s rest.

  They better get here soon, she thought, rolled onto her side, and closed her eyes. Don’t want to wake up and see they’re still gone.

  17

  The phone beside Rose’s bed rang a little after 2 a.m. She let it ring several times, hoping one of her parents would get it. If not, after eight rings it would go to the answering machine. After the eighth ring, the phone went silent only to resume ringing again a few seconds afterward.

  “Would somebody get that?” she shouted, hoping her folks would hear her.

  On the sixth ring, she yelled, “Never mind,” and picked it up for herself. “Hello?”

  “Rose, it’s Dad,” her father said on the other end.

  “Dad?” She looked at the clock. “It’s 2:12. Where are you?”

  “I’m out.”

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “She’s with me. We’re together. Get a pen and write this down.”

  “Write what down?”

  “Just do it, okay? Really need your cooperation on this.”

  Rose turned on the lamp by her bed, winced at its bright glow, and pulled a pad of paper and a pen from her night table drawer. “Okay, what?”

  He gave her an address to jot down and said to take the Saturn and go to the address on the paper.

  “Who’s house is this?” she asked. “Are you guys okay?”

  Her father was slow to respond. “Just do as I say. Make sure no one follows you either, okay?”

  “Why would anyone—Seriously, Dad, what’s going on? Are you both drunk and need a ride?”

  “In a way,” he said. “Just come here and don’t let anybody see you.”

  “O-okay,” she said.

  “And, Rose?” His voice was thick with tears.

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Marcus beeped off his cell phone and stuck it back in his pocket. If he could, he would have gone and picked up Rose himself, but he couldn’t leave Shelly. If any of the vampires followed him here without his knowledge, he could only imagine what they would do to the place never mind his wife’s body.

  Shelly was on a table near the wall of swords, covered with a blanket. Once Marcus had got her into the house via the garage, he immediately went to work examining her. More times than not he had to stop so he could let out the tears before working again. Right now, he still wanted to cry but nothing would come from his eyes. All he had was a splitting headache and sore, red skin around his eye sockets.

  “Rose’ll be here soon, hon,” he said, a hand on his wife’s body. “She’s going to have to learn everything tonight despite us deciding we’d hold off.” He knelt down beside the table and pulled back the blanket to expose his wife’s face. Even like this, she was beautiful, and seemed to be at rest. “I’m so sorry for letting you down, sweetheart. I’m sorry for failing you.” He glanced away and closed his eyes. Shelly was dead because of him. He wanted to rescue her, but he couldn’t. He should have fought harder. Should have
simply attacked the vampires the moment he saw them. Shouldn’t have let that one dunk him in the river.

  He glanced back at his wife. When he spoke, sheer determination and solemn will coated his voice. “I swear, I will never let anything like this happen again. I swear on my own life Rose will be protected. I will watch over her day and night. As for the undead, I will show no mercy. I will kill every single one of them myself if it comes to it. They will pay for what they did to you and what they stole from Rose and I. You will be avenged.”

  Marcus put his forehead against hers, then gave her a kiss on the lips. “I love you, Shelly. Forever.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  It was almost three quarters of an hour before Rose arrived at the house on Valor Road. She pulled into the driveway, put the car in park, and looked at the house. All the lights were off.

  Is this the right place? She checked the piece of paper where she’d written the address her dad had given her. What was written matched what was on the house.

  She turned off the ignition, yawned, then got out of the car. “This better be good,” she muttered.

  Rose approached the front door, and rang the doorbell. After a few moments, footsteps arose within. She couldn’t see the person on the other side due to the frosted window alongside the door. They didn’t even bother to turn the light on, but instead just opened the door. It was her dad.

  “Hey, honey,” he said softly.

  Between the shadows on his face, Rose noticed her dad’s bloodshot eyes. “What’s wrong? What happened? Whose house is this?”

  “Come inside.”

  She did and her father took her in his arms and held her tight. He was shaking, sobbing.