BloodCon

by S. Coop

  “What’s his name?” Lasandro demanded.

  “Look, I don’t know his name, all I know is …” Rene stopped talking when a nude human approached Lasandro.

  “You’re so beautiful,” the woman crooned.

  “Um, hey,” Lasandro said. “You’re, um, you’re …” Stunning! She looks like someone who would be in Playboy magazine.

  That’s when Morgan flipped out, socking the girl so hard in the chest that she flew six feet into the air, thudded against the ceiling, and landed unconscious in a recliner.

  Playboy magazine, huh? Morgan thought.

  Not anymore, Lasandro thought. She’s going to need some plastic surgery to fix her face. And her neck. Did you break it?

  Probably, Morgan thought.

  Please don’t screw things up for me, Lasandro thought. I need to get whatever information Rene has and get out of here.

  Before I kill someone else who hits on you? Morgan thought.

  Yeah! “Anything else you can tell me, anything at all?” Lasandro asked Rene.

  “If the guy is a roamer vampire, it will be almost impossible to find him and his crew, unless, of course, they stopped roaming. But that’s not likely. Sorry, I couldn’t be of more help.” Rene returned to her threesome.

  “I have a friend who may know the guy’s name,” Katya said. “Where are you staying?”

  “We’re staying at—”

  Don’t! Morgan thought. “We’ll contact you.” Morgan tugged Lasandro’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  When Morgan and Lasandro left, Katya wasted no time in picking up her phone. She hit speed dial and impatiently awaited an answer.

  “Yes?”

  “She was here, Marcus,” Katya said.

  “Was the newborn with her?” Marcus asked.

  “Yeah, cute little thing. Too bad I’m not swinging that way at the moment. Of course for him I could make an exception.”

  “Are you done fan-girling? Did you tell them anything?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Where are they staying?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure. They stopped just short of telling me, and Morgan wouldn’t let me into cutie’s mind. I think Morgan is suspicious. I didn’t want to push it any further.”

  “Very good then,” Marcus muttered.

  “So does this mean you will push it through for me?” Katya asked. “I can have my permit?”

  “My dear, you haven’t given me much to go on.”

  “Wait just a minute. I kept my end of the deal, now you need to keep yours! There isn’t much time for my Laura! I did everything you wanted!”

  Click.

  “Damn!” Katya spat, angrily shattering her cellphone against a wall. “That double crossing bastard!”

  Laura was the love of her life and a dear friend. She had been in a terrible car accident and had been in a coma going on eleven months. Her family was going to pull the plug at the one-year mark, and Marcus promised to convince the AVA to grant her permission to turn her before it was too late.

  Katya was livid. I don’t need your help, Marcus! I will just turn her anyway without permission. And why not? Morgan did it and got away with it! Katya marched back in her office, slammed, and locked the door.

  She was in no mood to party.

  She was, however, in a mood for revenge.

  Chapter Twelve

  Obsession

  Marcus let out a low growl when he hung up with Katya. He assigned her one simple task and she screwed it up. Even if she had gotten the information he needed, he would have not granted her request. She didn’t need a child. Hell, she could barely take care of herself. She was always in love with this one or that one. He never took her too seriously.

  Marcus leaned back in his black leather chair. He had gotten some information from Katya. Morgan had not yet killed the little rat nor did she plan to. Even after all his warnings, she still defied him. She had been defying his rule even before the day she left him. She existed because he let her exist. Now she had a new toy to play with. They had been close once upon a time. After she got over the initial shock of becoming a vampire, things were pretty copacetic. After all, he did give her immortality. Who would refuse that?

  Marcus Shorz had seen it all and nearly done it all. He had seen wars come and go. That was nothing new for him. During times of war when food was scarce for humans, it was abundant for his kind, especially during World War II. People disappeared every day and were never heard from again. It was the way of the world at the time.

  Having joined the SS, Marcus was shipped to Belgrade, Serbia, and assigned to watch the comings and goings of members of the resistance there. His orders were to get as much information as possible before they arrested the members. It was a daunting task, one he preferred not to do. That was until he saw Jasmina Jovanovich. What a beautiful woman she was! Marcus watched her every move. The others did not interest him at all. They would get theirs in due time, but Jasmina was a shining diamond among coal.

  Marcus admired and pitied her. She had a way about her, her innocence, her zest for life. She actually thought she could make a difference. She reminded him of someone he knew so long ago, someone who had been very special to him. It was so amazing how history seemed to repeat itself. The package might be different, but it was still the same package. As a human, Marcus had an obsession with history. He made it his business not only to document historical events but also to go out and investigate things that were outside of the normal spectrum of natural history.

  His colleague, Sofia Cosma, was equally as fascinated with investigating strange events or unusual sightings. When an opportunity for them to travel to Sofia’s home in Romania arose, they were all too eager to go. In the eighteenth century, there had been an increase in vampire sightings in Romania and the surrounding areas. If the rumors were true, then the danger was very real and the pair was excited about that.

  Riding in a horse-drawn carriage east from Bucharest, they headed to Kvritz, Romania. Although it was a small town, it had had the most recorded vampire sightings. Their guide was a strange man. There was something about him, something behind his fake smile. He was also greedy, charging them gold for just about everything. Marcus figured he would charge them for the luxury of breathing if he could.

  After a long day of travel, they arrived at their destination. The village was nothing more than a crossroad surrounded by houses, with one old shabby tavern that doubled as a store.

  Marcus helped Sofia out of the carriage and covered her with his coat as the wind started to blow light sprinkles of rain into their faces. It was a cold day with no sun in sight. The town oozed just the right amount of eeriness.

  “You know of any place here where we can stay?” Marcus asked the guide.

  “Well, you can stay with my aunt.” He scratched his sandy blond hair. “Just tell her Joseph sent you. She’s the fourth cottage on the left. She might give you a room for a good price. I better hurry now.”

  Joseph commanded the horses and disappeared into the distance. Marcus thought for the gold he charged, Joseph could have at least carried their bags to his aunt’s place. After a short walk through the mud, they arrived at the cottage. It was as ancient as the town itself. He knocked on the door. An old woman answered, presumably Joseph’s aunt. She couldn’t have been more than four feet tall. Her stringy gray hair cascaded down her back, falling shy of reaching her ankles.

  “Excuse me.” Sofia extended her hand to the woman. “We were referred here by your nephew, Joseph. He said you might have a room we can rent for a few days. May we come in?”

  The old lady studied them. “Did he tell you it’s three gold a night?”

  “Three gold!” Marcus protested.

  Sofia ignored his side-glances, “Three gold is fine.”

  The aged Rapunzel moved to the side to let them pass. “First room, down the hall, to the right.” She looked at Marcus expectantly, nodding to her open palm. Marcus reluctantly dropped the gold coi
ns into her hand.

  When they entered the room, the dust almost took their breath away. The room looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned for at least a decade. There were a few burned out candles adorning the end tables on each side of the bed. Marcus glanced at Sofia, who looked equally appalled at the state of the room.

  “One bed,” he smirked.

  Sofia shot him an evil glance. “Well, enjoy the floor.”

  Marcus chuckled and plopped his suitcase on the old creaky bed. A cloud of dust plumed into the air. “No need to worry about being killed by vampires. The dust will kill us first,”

  Sophia chuckled as someone knocked on the door. “Come—”

  The old lady barreled into the room with “fresh” linen. “There’s a cot in the shed out back if you like.” She stared at Marcus while handing the linens to Sofia. “But if you want it, you have to get it yourself.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Marcus said, wondering if it was worth going out into the damp to get it.

  “I don’t cook,” the old woman continued, “so if you’re hungry you’ll have to go to the tavern down the way. If you want to bathe, it will cost extra, and bedtime is at six p.m. sharp. There should be no comings or goings after that time. I need my beauty rest, you know.”

  “More than you get, obviously,” Marcus whispered.

  Sofia gave him a sharp elbow to the ribcage.

  The old woman turned to exit the room. “I am Isabella. What brings you two here to Krvitz?”

  Sofia and Marcus glanced at each other. “Vacation,” Marcus answered.

  Isabella huffed and left the room.

  “Well,” Sofia said, “you go get your cot, and I will be here taking a very long, very expensive bath.”

  Marcus stepped outside the dusty old house to retrieve the cot from the shed. The door to the shed was warped and damaged. He used every bit of his strength trying to get the thing open, when he noticed a woman staring at him through the window of the cottage next door. As soon as she realized he had seen her, she quickly closed the curtains.

  Again, Marcus tried to open the shed doors, but they wouldn’t budge. He gave up and headed to the tavern to see if he could borrow something to pry it open.

  Old and dusty seemed to be the norm in this town, and the tavern was no exception. There was a small bar with two stools and a couple of raggedy tables sitting nearest to the entrance. He made his way to the bar where he heard bottles tinkling.

  “Hello?” Marcus called out.

  A man stood up from behind the bar. In his early fifties, the man had silver hair and no teeth to speak of. He held up two bottles in his hand. “Welcome to Yan’s tavern. I’m Yan. What’ll it be?”

  Marcus looked at the two bottles. He wasn’t much of a drinker. “Surprise me,” he said, bravely.

  “Ah, yes,” Yan replied. He grabbed a glass from beneath the bar and filled it. “Rakija, it is.” He handed Marcus the glass, “What brings you here, traveler?”

  “My colleague and I are here to investigate the rumors about vampire sightings. Many of them seem to be connected to this village.” Marcus let the statement hang in the air, hoping for information.

  “Ahh, vampires,” Yan poured his own glass of Rakija. “A word of advice. Leave the village stories for the villagers. The neighboring villages make fun of us because we are already dying. It’s been ten years since the last baby was born here. Everyone is leaving. Even plants don’t grow here anymore.” He downed the glass of Rakija in one gulp. “Vampires do not exist, my friend. It is merely a ploy to attract visitors to this dying place, nothing more.”

  Marcus frowned. “So you’re telling me all the sightings were fake? You’ve never seen anything strange at all?”

  “Ha ha, the only strange thing I’ve seen is old man Adrian sneaking into Isabella’s place after six p.m.” He laughed and shivered simultaneously. “Although I might have seen something, come to think of it …”

  Marcus perked up in anticipation, but Yan only stared at him.

  “Oh, I see.” Marcus rolled his eyes and finagled a gold piece from his pocket, dropping it onto the bar. This was quickly becoming the most expensive expedition he had ever been on.

  Yan picked up the gold and leaned over to whisper to Marcus as if they were not alone. “About two miles north of here, you will find where Mita is buried. Mita was Isabella’s son. He got sick and died, nobody really knows what from. She was very protective of him. Rumor is he is not completely dead. If you go to his grave at night, you will see it dug up, but in the morning, the grave is intact. They say he’s the reason the villagers have started to disappear.” Yan leaned in closer to Marcus, his breath foul. “You see, we villagers sleep with one … eye … open. Hahahahhahahahah!”

  Marcus jumped at Yan’s thunderous laughter.

  “It is only fairytales, my friend. Mita is dead as dust! Ha ha hah!” Yan’s whole body shook with laughter while Marcus stormed out of the tavern without leaving another dime.

  Marcus returned to the shoddy, overpriced room and noticed that Sofia was not there. He thought that maybe she had gone to ask the townsfolk questions until he saw a gray blouse and blue slacks lying on the bed. He walked over and sat. “Such a dusty old dump,” he muttered.

  As the sun set, his eyes traveled the breadth of the room, seeing it change from bad to worse until his eyes focused on the clothes lying next to him. He gingerly picked up the blouse and felt it in his hands. The material was soft and smooth. He brought it up to his nose and sniffed it, taking in the wonderful fragrance it beheld. He fantasized about what it would be like to take her out of that blouse, how nice it would be to unbutton it one button at a time while planting kisses down her chest after each one had been released.

  Marcus was weak to Sofia’s cause. Whatever she wanted from him, she got. Whenever she needed him, he was there. All he wanted from her was her time. Just an hour with Sofia could make his week, but lately he hadn’t been getting his fair share. He wanted more. He wanted her full-time, all the time. He had come on this trip for the mysteries that surrounded that town and to spend time with her.

  Sofia’s marriage had been failing for years, and he watched her struggle to keep her bastard of a husband happy. He was a cheating, philandering, piece of garbage, and he didn’t deserve her. Every time Sofia had returned from a trip like this, her husband had spent all of their money on whores and gambling. This time, Marcus thought, this time will be different. He was going to offer her an ultimatum, and he knew in his heart that she would see things his way. She had to.

  Sofia cleared her throat when she entered the dimly lit room. She had a towel wrapped around her, and her shiny, long black hair was slicked back. Marcus could see tiny drops of water glistening on her neck and shoulders. She was a sight to behold. As always, her beauty captivated him.

  “Marcus?”

  Still holding the blouse in his hand, Marcus looked up at Sofia. He nervously crumpled the material in his hand as he gazed at her. “We should talk.” He was ready to tell her everything when there was a loud crashing sound outside followed by screams. “Stay here,” Marcus ordered. He grabbed his revolver from his suitcase, lit a candle, and ran outside.

  As he stepped outside, a man ran by in a panic and yelled at him to go back in. Marcus could hear doors and windows being slammed simultaneously. It was obvious the village folk were afraid of something, and Marcus was going to find out what.

  He stopped a child who was about 10 years old and asked him what was going on.

  “It’s here!” the boy yelled, and he continued running.

  Marcus heard Sophia scream.

  Sofia!”

  Marcus sprinted toward the back of the house. His knees buckled when he saw Sofia lying in front of the shed on the ground with her neck covered in blood. He picked her up and shook her, but there was nothing. He placed his hand around her face and begged her to come back while he moved his fingers around the thick blood that covered her neck. He was relieved to find that she
had a pulse, but he also found something else: bite marks.

  There was a rattle above him. Marcus looked at the shed door to see it was ajar. Just as he pulled out his revolver, the doors came smashing open followed by a figure advancing toward him. A single shot rang out from the revolver before it was knocked out of his hand. Marcus hit the ground with a violent impact. His efforts to fight it off were futile as the figure pinned him down. Marcus couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was what looked to be a man, but no man was that fast and that strong. It viciously lunged forward. Marcus closed his eyes and covered his face, dreading what would come next.

  “Mita!” cried Isabella. The creature stopped its attack and looked back at Isabella. “Mita, no!”

  Marcus felt as if a weight had been lifted off him. He opened his eyes to see the creature gone, leaving him in a pool of its drool and Sofia’s blood.

  “Hurry,” said Isabella. “Bring her inside before anyone sees.”

  Marcus pulled himself up, hoisted Sofia into his arms, and carried her into the cottage. He gently laid her on the bed while Isabella watched.

  “Is she dead?” Isabella asked, her face white as a sheet.

  “She’s alive,” Marcus answered impatiently. “Was that thing your son?”

  Isabella looked away. “Yes, that was my son, Mita.” She looked down at Sofia and shook her head. “I’m so sorry. He gets thirsty.”

  Marcus wanted to slap Isabella clear across the room, but he grabbed her arm and ordered her to bring some fresh towels and hot water. Isabella quickly left to retrieve them. He removed his shirt and sopped up some of Sofia’s blood. He inspected the bite marks closer. “Please stay with me,” he begged Sofia. “I love you.”

  Isabella returned with the towels and hot water.

  Marcus impatiently grabbed them. “Get out!”

  Isabella left the room sobbing.

  The next few days Marcus pored over every book he had on the unknown. He was sure that Mita was of the vampire breed. There was no known cure for vampirism that he could find. Sofia ran a constant fever. Nothing he did brought it down. He paced the room trying to think of some way, any way to save her. Would she turn into a vampire, or would she simply die from the fever? He did not know.