Demon Vampire (The Redgold Series)

by Virgil Allen Moore

  The disproportionate number of alteration vampires forced the elders to devise unique methods of selection. They were originally set on taking only one from each category, but the numbers presented to them didn't allow them to be so rejecting. The twelve came to recognize four very different alterations, two kinds of focus vampires, and only one psychic vampire. The seven were to be given the true definition of immortality. The elders witnessed the gifts of each vampire, seeing all they had to pick from. They were perplexed as to why only three psychics came. They had figured that their initial declaration was to blame. “We will accept who we choose. The rest will die. Tread here with solid intentions.” They had expected only a few to arrive. They were surprised by the turnout.

  Six of the seven endured a lofty test for their position. Each was not simply handpicked. The alterations were tasked to kill each other. The last ten survivors being pitted against one of the stronger elder vampires. He alone chose four of them based on their skills. The focus vampires were given an equally hard quest. They were to walk into a deep cavern, travel several miles underground, and wait. The elders positioned themselves above the mountain and struck the ground in quick succession. The first two that made it out alive were selected. The others were crushed, the mountain their tomb. The psychic's test was very different for a good reason. The three that had come each had a unique and desirable gift. One had the ability to read the immediate future. The next had the talent of reading an individual's past. The third gift was able to walk into the dreams of another and instantly know their mind. Each of them had value in the elders' eyes. Until one elder suggested the strongest of the psychics should be the winner. A physically strong vampire with psychic abilities would be a great asset. The elder walked up to the psychic that was able to read the future first. He screamed, knowing what was about to happen. He was fast, far too fast to be evaded. The elder tore his heart out, letting it fall to the dirt. The next to die was the vampire that was able to read a person's past. He accepted his death and stood as the elder vampire murdered him. The last to be attacked was the vampire able to enter the dreams of others. He cursed the elder vampire for murdering his family. After his heart was removed, he continued to vow revenge as he bled out. He took the longest to die, so he was selected as the seventh to undergo the ritual. One of the other elders revived him with his own powerful gift. Restored, he was placed at the center of the ritual to join the others. He was bound in ropes and lashed to a tall oak against his will.

  The other six vampires sat, most on their own accord and none of their own understanding. The psychic vampire protested the ritual, refusing to obey quietly. He cursed them all for taking away his brothers. He demanded to be manumitted. The elders ignored him. They commenced the ceremony. It lasted 10,000 days, more than twenty seven years. The elder ritual was a combination of their gifts, chanting, and an extremely vigilant focus. They held the ritual constantly, their will driven by the reward of pure eternity. They were attended by more than a hundred servants. They splashed blood on the elders, the initiates, and the ground itself. The twelve elders surrounded the six vampires in the circle. The psychic was in the center. They all survived the ritual. Their minds were affected greatly by the time, the repetition, and the stillness of it all. The seven of them had been changed. Their souls were forever enchanted from that day forward. The elder vampires, not exhausted in the least by the years of meditation and concentration, stood to see the final product of their efforts on the last night of the ritual.

  The six of the seven vampires stood as free men with the elders. They were proud to have lasted through the entire ritual. They had no idea what was going on. The seventh initiate was still lashed to the same pole he had been on for the duration. He knew what was about to transpire. The ritual wasn't over. There was a last phase that was about to be completed. The elders congratulated the six vampires on their success. Everyone cheered and the elders suddenly became silent. A hush fell over them. They all chanted one last time. The psychic vampire screamed out in anguish. The elders spoke out. “Rip, tear, rend, and swallow the blood like milk.” The elders slaughtered the six initiates in one motion, tearing them limb from limb, pulling their entrails apart. The unbroken psychic vampire called out, damning them for what they had done. The twelve elders circled him. Carefully readying themselves to finalize their ritual. They chanted again. Before they were able to finish, the psychic vowed to avenge his death. They impaled him, all at once. They ended his life instantly.

  The ritual failed. The seven vampires were supposed to self-resurrect within minutes of dying, they didn't. All seven initiates never revived. The ritual was for nothing. The elders walked away with wasted time and a renewed respect for the limitations of their own powers.

  More than three hundred years passed. The elders had each thought nothing of the ritual until one day. They were visited by a young psychic vampire that wished to speak with them. He told them to remember the ritual and to recall the vow that was made upon the completion of that great blunder. The boy suddenly attacked one of the elder vampires. He was the reincarnation of the seventh initiate that died that day. After the boy's execution, the elders decided they would need to meet every three hundred years as to see how to deal with the reoccurring problem that they named the demon gifts.

  Damien was pleased with the knowledge he had gained by reading hieratic document, The Elder Ritual. He had a direction to aim for. He was going to find a way to silence the elder vampires one at a time. He knew that where ever they were, Fear was one of them. Damien wanted to end the experimentation that could have resulted in dooming the world.

  Damien and Yugo were near the eastern edge of the Asian continent, deep in Mongolian territory. They had been informed that several locals, all men, had been taken suddenly after a red haired girl had wondered in. Damien was hunting Fear.

  It was a cold winter night in the middle of nowhere. An old stone shelter had been assaulted by a lingering blizzard. The frigid walls only offered a defense against the wind. The slabs were strong under the snow that had been built on the roof. The room was large, more than fifty feet across. Five men were held up inside. Three of the men were nearly frozen from the lack of warmth. The other two sat patiently, waiting for the storm to pass.

  “We're going to die here.” One of the middle aged men said. His face dry and worn. Brown furs covered his head and body, with pelts from many different animals. He was huddled in the far corner, away from the other two men that refused to say anything.

  “We're not. We'll make it through this. I've seen worse.” The oldest of the five men spoke up. His face leathery and cracked with years of lines. “We just have to keep him warm.” He looked at the youngest of the men beside him.

  The man was shivering, and panting for breath. All of his heat was escaping his body. His black hair was matted. His skin was blistered from a severe fever. He was going to die. Everyone saw it. The man only chattered his teeth. He was barely conscious.

  “We should put him out of his misery.” One of the two men in the opposite corner said to the others. He was wearing a red and white fox pelt around his shoulders. His short ruffled dirty blond hair was foreign to everyone there. His accent was Slavic, the three men saw him as a complete outsider.

  “Shut up. We're not going to do that.” The other man in the corner next to him snapped. His black robes seemed far too light of clothing for where they were. His short black hair partially grayed by his years.

  “But I can just-” The man with the fox pelt was cut off.

  “Yugo. We are not going to kill the man.” The black robed man shouted at him.

  “Fine. We'll do it your way Damien.” Yugo returned to crossing his arms and waiting patiently.

  The fevered man fell over, breathing rapidly. He had blacked out and was convulsing on his side. His friends ran up to him and tried to help keep him from swallowing the vomit that was flowing out.

  “See, If we don't do anything now, his blood will be fro
zen in no time. What will we do then? Can you tell me that Damien?” Yugo was pressing the issue.

  Damien turned to Yugo, annoyed at his words. “Can't you respect what's happening here?” Damien pointed over to the man dying on the floor, not ten feet from them. “His brother is dying. A life is fading from this world. An innocent soul. Don't you remember what it's like to be mortal Yugo? To be fragile?”

  “Simply, no.” Yugo said as he stood.

  “Yugo, what are you doing?” Damien got up with caution. He had an idea of what Yugo was positioning himself for.

  “Come on now, we can't let them live. They know what we are.” Yugo's fangs were showing, dripping wet from anticipation.

  Damien moved into a defensive pose in front of the three men. “This isn't what we came here for. You know that.”

  “But they know!” Yugo said again.

  “Because you revealed as much to them.” Damien looked back at the three men.

  The two living men were paying full attention to Yugo and Damien. Their friend was dead and they worried their end was near.

  “Wipe their minds of this and prepare yourself. We're leaving.” Damien suggested.

  Yugo was ready to contest Damien's decision. He was thirsty. He wanted the dead man at the very least. He wasn't backing down. Yugo squinted his eyes at Damien. They changed, showing the full color of his purple vampire eyes shining in the dark room.

  Damien stared at Yugo. “You don't want to do this.”

  “And what if I do?” Half of Yugo's face began to change into a malicious grin.

  A thunderous sound shattered the tension in the room. Something big had happened. The far corner of the room snapped in half. A large piece of stone impaled the older man that was still standing. Snow blew in as parts of the roof fell. Yugo and Damien braced the ceiling before it killed the last surviving man inside. It slanted as they looked on in complete shock. There was someone there, standing past the open tear in the building. A familiar face to Damien. A person he did not want to see, not then.

  A black figure stood just outside of the moonlight, still deep in the shadows. He stepped back, letting the light strike him for a moment. His face was devilish, sinister.

  “Fear.” Damien said to himself.

  “Yes.” The dark shadow exclaimed calmly.

  The black, cloaked figure vanished. Only a trail of destruction hinted towards his location. He had moved across the room. Damien turned around. Yugo was trying to keep up with the astounding speed, he was too late to see. Damien however, watched in horror as a sense of dread overcame him. The man behind them was being ripped into three pieces. His blood poured down as his head was torn by this nightmare's fangs. His right arm was pulled from his body, letting the rest fall to the ground in a lump of dead flesh. Yugo stared at the carnage after it happened. A line of blood splashed him in the chest, ruining his fox pelt.

  Yugo protested. “You fu-”

  The black cloaked figure moved too fast for Yugo to understand. Before he was able to finish his comment, Yugo's jaw had been removed, completely, with precision. Yugo was knocked backwards, taking out the far support keeping the roof from collapsing. Damien moved into position to carry the remaining load. The ceiling shifted, the snow blew violently.

  “This is to ensure you will never talk ill of me again. Unless you speak my name. Know me, and know Fear.” Fear held Yugo's jaw in his right hand. The blood was soaking to the floor.

  Yugo had been knocked out, his tongue was flopping out of his neck.

  “Fear, what are you doing here?” Damien shook as the roof crumbled above him.

  “This is a distraction.” Fear reached out with his left hand, taking the long piece of timber bracing from the wall and formally embedded it in the old man.

  Fear cut the ceiling open it shattered around them. Fear dropped the wooden shard, still hanging onto Yugo's jaw firmly. Damien no longer had to hold the roof. He took a deep breath, exhaling while looking at Yugo. He was covered in debris, he continued to bleed.

  Fear smiled. “There, that's better. We can talk now.”

  Damien brushed the clutter off of Yugo and helped him up while he was still unconscious. Yugo's tongue was oozing saliva onto Damien's robe. Fear grinned, and flashed Yugo's jaw in his hand.

  “You could at least give back his jaw.” Damien requested.

  “No, he doesn't need it.” Fear said coldly.

  “He does if it will help me.” Damien knew something was up. “Or am I wrong that you came here for me?”

  Fear tossed Yugo's jaw to Damien.

  Damien caught it and closed Yugo's lips. He used his right index finger to slice a line in his left palm. He stood Yugo up, and smeared the blood from one side of his throat to the other. The jaw was set, the blood sealed the wounds. Yugo was healed.

  “I see you've picked up some skills since we last met” Fear was impressed. He walked up to Damien. “That's good. They'll keep you alive.”

  “What do you want Fear?” Damien got to the point. He set Yugo down, propping him against the snow.

  The moonlight shined brightly on their faces, the storm had ceased. The light was calm and eerie, particularly Fear's pale skin. It appeared to glow along with his full green eyes. “I want you to slay a demon.”

  “A demon?” Damien was skeptical. He had never seen anything besides the texts relating to other vampires that would suggest the existence of actual demons. Then he remembered the ritual.

  “His name is-” Fear was interrupted.

  “Salas.” Damien said it first.

  Fear took hold of Damien's robe at his neck and he pushed. “How do you know that name?”

  “I know all about the ritual, who Salas was. How it failed catastrophically.” Damien held his ground, he was physically pushing back.

  Fear realized what was going on. Damien was able to contest his strength. “Good. This is good.” Fear let up, releasing Damien. “You might have a chance if you can resist me like that.”

  “What has he done to you, Fear?” Damien asked the hard question.

  “He betrayed my trust.” Fear sat down across from Yugo in the snow.

  Damien sat as well, eager to listen to what had happened to Fear. He wanted to engender a solution for what Salas was as much as Fear did. He knew that extirpating all of the demon vampires from the world would be a blessing.

  “I made a deal with him. A pact of blood. It was a truce to let him gather what he wanted in order to further my own habits. Not once did I come to consider his motives.” Fear seemed distraught. He was not the same vampire that had killed Damien decades ago. Salas had changed his attitude. He had set things into perceptive for him.

  “What did he do?” Damien asked politely.

  “The demon has come to fill her eyes. The last remnants of her must have been gone years before it happened. The demon vampire, Salas, has awakened.” Fear appeared to be afraid.

  Damien understood everything. Fear was about to ask for his help to kill Salas. To destroy a six thousand year old demon that is in all respects truly immortal. He was going to ask the impossible. “You want me to fight him?”

  “I want you to win.” Fear clarified.

  Yugo woke up. He felt his face, it was intact. “What's going on?”

  Damien looked at Fear and turned to Yugo. “We have a job offer.”

  “What do we have to do?” Yugo asked eagerly, he was excited regardless of Fear ripping his mouth apart.

  “We get to kill someone.” Damien turned back to Fear. “If the price is worth the risk.”

  “Name your desires.” Fear offered anything, knowing the risk was worth the payment.

  “Historical seclusion.” Damien said to Fear.

  “You want to fade away then? I can do that easily enough.” Fear causally accepted the price. “And what of the youngling?” Fear gestured towards Yugo.

  “No. I want your seclusion.” Damien was requesting a true sacrifice of Fear. “You are the one I wish to fade awa
y into history.” Damien stared at Fear. “If we do this, I want you to let Rebekkah go and disappear forever.”

  “You want me to relinquish my slave and hide in the shadows of time?” Fear stood up, offended by Damien's demands.

  “Then we walk.” Damien nodded to Yugo.

  Fear was in a very difficult situation. He had no other options and Damien had realized how valuable he was. If Fear wasn't there, he wouldn't be desperate. He was the one that needed Damien, not the reverse.

  Damien and Yugo took a few steps.

  Fear called out. “Wait.”

  Damien halted, wanting to hear Fear's answer. “Yes?”

  “I can agree to let her go. I can't agree to fade away like the others have.” Fear was negotiating.

  Damien walked back to Fear. “If I'm doing this, it's to rid the world of that thing. To save people from its wrath. To keep people alive.”

  Fear clenched his fist at Damien's words. He didn't like being scolded.

  Yugo readied himself to attack Fear.

  Damien waved Yugo down. “If you are let free to roam as you please, you will continue to do what Salas would, just in smaller numbers. I can't afford that loss. If we do this and seal him, I will save millions. If I put you away, I will save thousands more.” Damien got in Fear's face. “Rebekkah is a small favor of mine to cement the deal.” Damien leered at Fear. “That is if you are still able to make an honest pact without a demon present.”

  Damien's words bit into Fear's ego. He was quickly losing this argument. He knew that if he resorted to violence now, Damien would never help him and Salas would be let loose upon the world. His fire would consume everything, civilizations would burn under him. Fear decided to give in. “Fine. You will never hear of me after it is done.”