He looked around. There was a gate to his left, where a font stood, but had long been drained of holy water. To his right, another gate, but nothing stood there, save for a door leading to somewhere.
“Or perhaps nowhere,” said Seth out loud.
From somewhere in the chapel, the sound of a crow cawing made Seth jump backwards with fright, colliding with the gate behind him. It opened, but as he struggled to keep his footing, the owner of that sound hurtled towards him. This crow was a dirty, mottled creature, and looked like the very bird from those awful dreams Seth had been experiencing.
It looked as though it had pulled itself out of the earth, from the very depths of Hades. It darted at him, again, and again. Seth swatted at the bird, missing every single time, but doing enough to make the bird think twice.
Finally, the crow turned and headed for a small window that was positioned high into the chapel’s eastern wall. The bird hit it with such force that the glass easily shattered, the shards of which rained down on Seth, hitting his arms and drawing blood from them.
Seth vigourously shook his fist skywards and cursed at the bird.
The bird appeared unaffected, swooping upwards and out to the sky via the broken glass.
Behind Seth, the font had fallen to the floor, and a large crack had opened up underneath it. At first, Seth thought it was a large drop to the chapel’s foundations, but what he saw it to be startled him greatly.
“Well, if that doesn’t beat all,” he said.
Below him were a set of steps leading down to somewhere unknown. Against his better judgement, he made his descent, one step at a time.
He half-expected cobwebs to cover his eyes, or for someone or something to jump out at him. He even considered the possibility that Ricky was down there.
But as he reached the bottom of the stairs, which had numbered eleven in all, Seth found himself in a dark room, that was empty save for a single object.
He smiled. Of course it was here.
A coffin.
The casket itself was encased in a bed of stone, with the statuette of a crow sitting on top of it. Seth wasted no time in walking up to the coffin, withdrawing the stake as his steps almost turned into a gallop.
He grabbed the statuette of the crow by its throat, and was shocked to see the head move, with the bird’s beak ripping into the skin on Seth’s hands.
Through his research, Seth had identified that vampires had assigned to themselves a creature of some kind. Mariana’s had been a raven. Juliana – well that was hard to tell, but if Seth had to guess, he’d go for a scorpion. As for Gretchen, her animal was obvious – a crow.
He screamed in pain as the hateful image of the bird bit down on him, but nonetheless held on, achieving enough momentum to move the lid to the side. It was sufficient, as the lid crashed to the floor.
Inside the coffin, Seth came face to face with the entity that had terrorised him for so many years. The most awful thing was that her eyes were not closed, they remained open, glaring at him, and not in the same colour of glazed gold that the vampire Darius owned.
Her eyes were a solid, soulless black. Thin strands of red were dried onto her lips and chin. But she looked angry, so very angry, as if she had been forced to return to her coffin before she had intended to.
This was the creature responsible for so many deaths. It might have been too late for Rosalyn, and was certainly too late for Daisy, but at least Seth could put an end to this most awful of vampires.
His heart was beating so loud, that he was sure that Gretchen would rise from her sedate position. When she saw what he was doing, it would be his final act on this Earth. He never thought of himself as a hero, but expected that’s how history would record this great deed.
Still, the act of killing did not come easy to him. The confidence within him as he approached the coffin had all but evaporated. His hands shook, and he fought so hard to steady his grip on the stake.
A glass panel covered the coffin, so Seth could view the vampire in full and complete detail. Gretchen was wearing a shroud in the shade of burnt orange, which he thought was a most curious colour to be buried in. Her fingers appeared to be intact, with black nail polish, and they were impeccably manicured.
He wondered how to navigate the glass without disturbing Gretchen from her slumber. Knowing her to be without mercy and utterly devoid of showing compassion, Seth asserted that this was a one-time only opportunity.
The glass appeared to have been screwed into place, but of course, Gretchen was not held by such constraints. The glass presented a very real problem to Seth, but, deciding to wait not a moment longer, he brought the stake down, hoping that the force would allow him to smash through, and pierce the evil one’s heart.
The glass did indeed give way, but Gretchen’s gaze remained fixed on Seth, grabbing the stake with one hand, and Seth’s arm with the other, her perfectly shaped nails ripping into his flesh.
“No, Seth, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Gretchen rose up from the coffin, taking Seth into the air, pinning him to the ceiling, before letting him go, falling head first into the coffin. As she glided back to the ground, his painful moans grew louder.
She flipped his body over, and leaned into the coffin, burning her gaze into his eyes.
“As I was saying, it wouldn’t be a good idea to hurt me. If I die, so does your precious Rosalyn.”
“Liar!” screamed Seth. “You are only ever capable of spewing lies! That’s all you ever do – all you’ve ever done! You killed Daisy, and so many others. You are killing Roz too. I’m not going to let you get away with it!”
“Seth, Seth, Seth, you really must calm down. I’m not lying. I promise you, if you or anyone else hurts me, the ones you love will die.”
She relaxed her hold on him; adrenaline kicked in, allowing Seth to sit up as if he was going to get out of the coffin. Gretchen held her hand up.
“No Seth. This is your home now.”
“What? I’m not staying in here.”
“I agree Seth, it is not the most obvious object to sleep in.” Seth almost saw a half-smile appear on Gretchen’s face. “First time in one of these coffins, I raised similar objections too. I was ignored back then, so I’m afraid that I have to ignore what you’re saying too. It’s just how things are.”
“No way. There is no way in hell that I’m staying here. I can’t live without Roz.”
“But she can live without you, Seth. You’ll be staying here if you want her to live. I do share your feelings though. I hated the coffin at first too.”
Seth sat upright in the coffin, utterly perplexed. If he made a move, it could be his last, and if he did as Gretchen ordered him, he would die of suffocation, and who knew what would happen to Rosalyn?
“I won’t let you harm her!”
“And I told you I won’t harm her. I only took some of her blood. She won’t die, or become like me, unless she asks it of me. But you want her to live, so you have to pay the price for that. I can’t allow you to marry her. You belong to me, first, now, and always.”
“Why?” screamed Seth. “All I ever did, was what you forced me to do.”
“Yes you did, and now, I am bored of you Seth.”
“Marrying Roz is my choice. My own!”
To stop him talking further, Gretchen punched Seth hard on his throat, knocking him back into the coffin. He was out cold as she placed the stone lid back on top of him.
“Choices! Hah! He was right after all. I really do show no mercy or have any compassion.”
Gretchen glided up the staircase, and wrapped her cloak around her head. Her feet did not touch the floor outside, and as she exited the chapel, she did not see the vampire that lay in wait, expecting Seth to appear with the necessary act fulfilled. Instead, Darius observed the evil vampire.
“You harlot! Witch! Deceiver!”
Gretchen stopped in her tracks, and turned around slowly.
“Oh. Another contender for a coff
in. Why is it that two have come along at the same time? I suppose when his body has turned to ash, you can get in there with Seth. You sent him in there, didn’t you?”
“That I did, wicked one. Mariana Dreymuir wants rid of you. You deserve your end.”
“Don’t come all so pious with me, vampire. When you sent him in there, you condemned him to death. If you had any real vampire blood pumping through your veins, you would have tried to kill me yourself.”
“I have a name, you know. It is Darius. Another thing you should know - vampires do not kill each other. I am happy she sent a human to do away with you.” he said with a smile.
“But you’re not entirely happy with me, are you Darius?” purred Gretchen. “How ever can I make it up to you?”
She walked slowly towards him, undoing the ribbons on her dress so that her chest would attract and transfix him. It was something those connected with the Dreymuirs did exceedingly well. The women appeared to beguile and control the men with ease.
Darius, who had worked as a banker’s assistant before the Dreymuirs and those who were already vampires at the Blood and the Raven; had only ever wanted to develop his career.
News had reached his employer that finally, they’re going to burn that place down, burn the evil with the purifying flame of truth and goodness.
Darius, who was young, knew little of the world, and was keen to develop his career in finance and accounting, worked late that night, as he did on many occasions. His actions were forlorn attempts to further his career, because his employer was looking after his own interests, and squandered many of the company’s profits on gambling and women.
The man was also prone to go on leave for extended periods of time without any prior warning, often leaving Darius to all but run the place.
Locking up the office one night, it only lasted for a fleeting moment, as his killer, or liberator as some vampires viewed themselves, sank his teeth into Darius.
In the next moment, a stake was thrown at distance at the vampire from someone who had not yet been made one of them.
As his life force left him, Darius knew he would be next, so he staggered like a drunk down an alleyway, managing to successfully evade those who wished to purify the town of vampires.
As his body shook and convulsed, he believed that one by one, his organs were shutting down. He felt his own blood travel in the wrong direction, gushing upwards to his throat, until it poured out over his own lips.
In those final moments, his limbs turned cold, and his heart appeared to have dislodged itself from its housing, as the arteries that connected it to the rest of his body withered.
Maybe several moments passed, or hours, he did not know. He was awoken by a gush of water, for someone had thrown a bucket of the cold liquid over him.
“Get yourself home, young man,” said the voice, which belonged to a street cleaner. “You’re ruining your nice suit. What the hell happened to you?”
“I don’t know,” replied Darius, his recall of the previous night’s events were lamentably poor.
“Aye, well, I’d have probably done the same as you, squire. When those Bible bashers scream ‘Purity and Death to the Vampires,’ I really do have to laugh. I stayed at the cemetery until it was all over. It’s often the safest place to be, when all that’s kicking off.”
“I suppose so,” replied Darius weakly.
The man reached into his coat pocket. Darius’ sense of smell was much heightened. There was a great stench of death in the air. He observed the man’s hair, which looked to have the consistency of follicles that could only belong to rats.
“Here’s my card, squire. If you need anything, you just look me up, okay? I’ll be taking my leave of you now.”
Darius stood up brightly and brushed himself down, nodding gratefully to the man. Fully expecting the card to read pretty much like one of his own, it was exceptional in the sparsely composed details.
It simply said
CEMETERY OFFICE, HANDSWORTH.
With a hand written initial in red, perhaps in dried blood.
R.
Darius had hung around the cemetery ever since, making occasional trips out to feed. He had heard about the vampire Gretchen’s killing spree. Even amongst the bones of the dead, it was impossible to avoid.
Now she stood in front of him.
“Darius, if you’re through calling me all those wicked names, perhaps we can start somewhere basic. Let’s be friends.”
“Friends?” he replied incredulously.
“Why not? Over the years, I have made many friends.”
“And enemies, I’m sure,” added Darius.
“Well, I was hoping you wasn’t going to focus on that. I’m done with the killing. The question is, are you?”
Darius sighed heavily. He didn’t trust Gretchen, but it was a long time since he had encountered a single vampire. He accepted that he alone had chose to avoid them. Maybe that had to change. But he was not happy to leave Seth to his fate.
“Did you kill him? Seth?”
“No, he is merely in the coffin.”
“That’s the same thing. He won’t be able to breathe for long.”
“I just need to do something before we leave. Well, if care for him; I won’t let him die, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Darius followed Gretchen in the direction of the cemetery office. He felt in his waistcoat pocket, and sure enough, it was still there.
“I was given a card from this place. Someone who works here.”
“You must have made quite an impression on him, then,” smiled Gretchen.
The office was empty, but Gretchen seemed to know her way around, and entered a small room where a telephone sat alone on an antiquated desk.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, I’m not going back to the chapel, just in case you double cross me, Darius. But I will get help for Seth. With any luck, if it to be his fate, they’ll get to him in time.”
Using a man’s voice, Gretchen called the police, telling them that the cemetery chapel had been vandalised. When the operator asked for a name, Gretchen gave it as Ricky, before replacing the phone in its handset.
“Where did you get that name from?”
“From your card, Darius.”
“It just says R.”
“Oh no. It says much more than that. You just need to look in the right places. Now Darius, we need to get out of here. I’m planning for a kind of family reunion. You’re welcome to come along if you wish. I think you are wasting your existence as a vampire.”
“How strange. Before I would have said that being a vampire was a waste of an existence. Yet I find myself in agreement with you. Where are you going?”
“To Castle Dreymuir. I need to meet with someone who I haven’t seen in a long time.”
“You’re planning to kill Juliana and her mother, aren’t you? I thought you told me your killing days were over.”
Gretchen did not answer, but smiled as she saw a young boy of about eleven or twelve years of age running in her direction.
He was running so fast that he almost collided with her. For her part, Gretchen refused to stand aside.
“Oh, sorry,” he said.
“What’s the hurry?” she asked.
“You had better run along,” said Darius, whilst keeping his eyes locked on Gretchen.
“We were playing a game, me and some friends of mine. We’re not in trouble, are we?”
“Oh no,” said Gretchen. “Tell us about your game, and we’ll walk back with you to your friends. Where are they?”
“Hill-top. Just beyond the cemetery. We were telling each other stories, you know, trying to scare each other. Then one of us fell down to the bottom of the old air raid shelter, and though he’s not hurt, he’s scared.”
“We’ll help them, won’t we dear?” said Gretchen, a wicked smile escaping her mouth.
Darius did not like where this was going, but if it come to it, to hell with vampir
es don’t harm one another.
“We will help,” said Darius. “That is all.”
“Do you know any scary stories?” the boy asked Gretchen.
“Oh, I tend to read romances, that sort of thing. But as for scary stories, there’s one story I might just know. Ever heard of The Blood and the Raven?”
Dream the Crow's Black Dream - A Tale of Vampires Book Four Page 7
