“You don't get to ask that here. My longanimity may be vast, but it ends with this one.” Salas scolded Kyli. “He's mine, I need him.”
“You don't need his soul, you only need him to help you.” Kyli said softly as blood dripped from her lips. “You only need his body. There's another way to do this and you know it.”
Salas raised the spear, level in his hands. The lower half of it melted away, leaving a sword in Salas' right palm. “I'm listening.”
Kyli coddled her stomach. “You want the elders, right? You want them dead?”
“That's obvious.” Salas closed his hand. He swung the sword upright.
“What if there was another way?” Kyli coughed, blood was spraying from her mouth. “What if-”
Salas let the tip of the blade fall forward, catching the sword, handle on top. He quickly plunged it into Kyli left thigh.
Kyli screamed. “What if there was another way to force them into living a life that was worse than death?”
Salas' attention peaked.
“You saw firsthand what Malio did to those vampires. He took great pleasure in keeping them alive, turning their regenerative abilities into their worst enemy. What if you could do the same to the elders?”
Salas smiled. “You know you're far more sinister than you look.” Salas leaned into Kyli, brushing the hair over her left ear. “The black hair suited you better.”
“Then you'll let him go?” Kyli asked Salas.
Salas took a hold of the hilt of the blood weapon lodged deep in Kyli's flesh. He ripped it through the meat, the bone, and tore off her left leg.
“I decide what to do with him. Fate is a Giver in my willing hand.” Salas laughed. “You should be proud. You will be my first meal before I pursue them. Before I eviscerate the world with the steel of my vengeance.”
“No! You can't! I love him too much!” Kyli was weakening. She was about to lose consciousness. Kyli fell to her knees.
Salas moved to pick Kyli up by her throat. He lifted her into the air. The fingers of his right hand were sliding over her thin neck. “Love.” Salas chuckled. “I've had that.” Salas smiled.
Kyli looked Salas in the eye and tried her best to spit in his face. The thought was clear enough without the words. “You bastard!”
Salas drew Kyli close. “Don't use those words, their too dirty for your lips.”
Salas dropped Kyli. She hit the wet sand, gasping to breathe.
“For all you're well thought out plans, you honestly have no idea what I know, do you?” Salas said fiendishly. “I've known about Malio's sick habits. Ever since I read-” Salas stopped for a moment. Waiting for Kyli's eyes to meet his. “Your father.”
“When did you?” Kyli said with haste.
“When didn't I? When Zack first met him? Before the concert? At the dinner? When didn't I have a clear chance to obtain every piece of knowledge he ever wanted to keep from me? Did you really think my gift was as limited as what I've let Zack have access to? How does it feel to be that naive?” Salas bent over to get close to Kyli.
Kyli swung at Salas, missing completely. She fell forward, into the red shore. “You mean this was all just a set up? You wanted Malio to attack Zack? You wanted to know how to make-”
“Redgold.” Salas said with a deep booming voice. “It's actually a heavily guarded secret. More so if you're a demon. Do you know why?” Salas paused. “Of course you don't.” Salas moved into striking range of Kyli again. He bent down, nearer than before. “It's because even the most short sighted vampire knew the implications of what Redgold meant to a vampeal. The advantage to gain. The power of a potential million gifts in one host. No one in their right mind would want that in a half blood. It's a disgrace to the pure strength of any vampire. What it comes down to is to be out-staged by someone lesser. I've waited a long time for him. A vessel that offers everything. My other hosts were contretemps.”
“Someone will stop you! By now the elders should know everything. They will find you, they will kill you Salas.” Kyli cursed Salas.
“Let them.” Salas sounded confident in what he said.
“What? Let them kill you? Or let them try?” Kyli wanted to clarify.
Salas crouched down to Kyli's eye level. “Is that what you want to know? Am I that audacious? That bold to test my new body against them? And what if the answer didn't matter?” Salas stood up.
“But you want to kill them. Why would you want them to end your life?” Kyli didn't see a pattern. To her, Salas was focused on gaining every gift he could. She didn't understand why he would accept death at their hands after all he'd been through to obtain Zack as a host.
“David never told you why I'm so dangerous. You simply took his word for it. Six thousand years ago I had the mere gift to read the surface thoughts of others. Didn't it ever come up in your mind as to why I'm able to read deeper into a person's memories, into their souls? Didn't anyone ever think to wonder why my gift has changed?” Salas turned to look over his left shoulder to Kyli. “I am the cynosure because with each incantation, my gift evolves. My host is only a chrysalis. I have gained a power that no one thought existed.”
“That's impossible. No one's gift evolves.” Kyli argued.
“Based on what?” Salas faced the dark clouds above. “The older a vampire is, the farther their gift reaches. The more influence it has, the greater it becomes by default. Time is on the side of all vampires. The centuries are kind to them indeed.” Salas raised his arms high up in the air. “But the eons are far kinder to me. I am extant.” Salas laughed and turned around. “My gift.” Salas paused. “My gifts, evolve with every year I slumber. My existence is just nascent as I am now. Think what I could do with a few hundred gifts in my blood before they kill me and end my trail of slaughter. Think what the elders would be forced to do in that quandary? I am their parvenu. To you and them, the future is turbid. Before me it is crystal clear Zack is my pathway to recrudescence.”
Salas peered up to the sky, he lowered his head. Two long spikes shot down from the clouds. They drove into Kyli back, crossing through her chest and into the ground. Kyli wasn't able to yell out in pain. Her lungs collapsed, she was unable to breathe, to speak. She was about to die.
“You say you love him, prove it.” Salas cemented his voice. He was not letting go of Zack's body.
Kyli pushed up against the sand, against the spikes embedded in her organs. She rose up from the ground with fire in her eyes, literally. The weapons pinning her melted away as her wounds healed instantly, her leg regenerated. Kyli's clothing was barely hanging on her. She placed her hands open in front of her. A white, almost silver line grew out of the air. It shined with a brilliance equal to the white flames smoldering in her irises. Kyli pulled a katana from the light. "I want him back.” Kyli was resolute.
“Is your volition truly solid enough to contest me?” Salas smiled with half his cheek, his lip slightly curled. His eyes shot up and down as a spear leaped from the thunder in the sky.
Kyli sliced the red bolt in half before it reached her.
Salas caught the other half of the spear, holding it as a blade once again. “This is pointless.”
“Not to me.” Kyli responded.
“Is he really that important to you?” Salas asked.
Kyli centered the long Japanese weapon's point directly toward Salas. With a single motion, she spoke and split the blade in two. Wielding twin sabers, ready to fight for Zack. “Yes.”
Kyli held the swords apart. With each hand low to her sides, the curves were each leading away from her. Salas stared at Kyli, his single blood spear reformed into a cutlass.
“I'll take him back by force.” Kyli said, slowly raising her arms.
“Maybe.” Salas moved in.
Kyli swung at Salas with her right arm. He dodged, landing while his cutlass dug a channel down Kyli's right leg. Kyli smiled, distracting Salas for a moment. Her left hand buried a katana sideways into Salas' chest, cleanly piecing his heart.
&
nbsp; “I love him.” Kyli twisted the flat steel.
Salas glared at Kyli with disdain.
Kyli swung her right hand down the length of Salas's cutlass. She found her way past the edge. She lifted her katana up into the air. Kyli shifted to her left, letting Salas's body lean to his side. Kyli struck. The blade crashed through Salas' skin, tearing off his head in a single powerful swing. The head rolled across the sand. It landed halfway into the ocean, covered in blood. The demonic body fell, limp on Kyli's other sword.
The sky broke open, crackling, revealing a bright sun. The land behind her changed. The jungle gave way to a lush grass field. In the distance, Kyli could see a boy playing catch with his father.
Kyli had done it.
Kyli's eyes opened to the real world. She calmed herself, listening for any changes in Zack's body. His breathing had changed. She could tell he was awake.
Zack leaned back, away from Kyli. He opened his eyes, he was groggy, his mind hazed from what had happened.
“Zack, are you there? Did it work?” Kyli hoped.
Zack licked his lips. His right hand closed slowly in succession, one finger at a time. He took a deep breath, his eyes shut tight.
“Zack, answer me, you're worrying me.” Kyli wanted to know he was okay. She had gone through hell for him, she wanted confirmation.
Zack could still hear Salas. His mind fogged, Zack's lips curled slightly. “This is the feeling. The wet taste that only a living tongue can communicate. Sharp fangs ready to rip throats asunder. Fingertips of iron, quick to tear open victims. Physical power to rend foes. Yes, Zack, this is it. The wet, tense moments before the conclusion. I'm sure it will taste like milk. It always does. Can you feel it? Can you smell it?” Salas smiled.
Zack smiled.
Kyli came closer to Zack. “Zack, I love you.”
“Cherries and lavender. She will taste so sweet. The milk will run, spill everywhere.” Salas inhaled deeply.
Zack inhaled, smelling Kyli's cherry and lavender scent. His eyes opened. A solid clear-hued black was in place of his iris and pupil.
A cold chill came over Kyli as she stared into Zack's pitch black eyes. Something wasn't right.
“Zack?” Kyli trembled.
Zack grinned, the expression not his own. It was evil, horrifying, demonic. Zack turned to Kyli, his eyes frozen in the black void that lay beyond his skin.
Zack's fangs grew sharp. His ultimate choice was binding. Kyli's victory was a feign. The blood she spilled had been false as well. Salas had let Kyli's fantasy of winning, unfold. He was right, the battle was pointless. He had already won.
Kyli began to cry. “Zack, I know you're in there somewhere. Please, please talk to me.”
In a deep, grueling voice, Zack spoke. His words wrong to the ear. Dark tones emanated from his mouth. Kyli recognized it. She had heard it before, it was a mellifluous poison to her ears.
“What's the matter Kyli? I'm right here.” Zack had his right hand on Kyli's neck before she could understand what was happening. “Let's continue, shall we?”
"What you have read is the end at the beginning. Read again."
- Virgil Allen Moore
Interview With Virgil Allen Moore By GetFanged.com
If you had to choose power, grace, and immortality at the cost of your soul, would you? What if the choice was easier than you think? Small, incremental segments of strength for a few childhood memories? The ability to accomplish your dreams, your desires, for the corners of your mind you don't often use? What if you could have everything you ever wanted and the only price would be the things that make you who you are? What would you do? Faced with a grave choice of morality, what would you choose? Vampire Author Virgil Allen Moore sits down with GetFanged to talk about writing his upcoming book "Demon Vampire", moral conflict, himself, and... robots?
First of all, congratulations! Demon Vampire has a release date. Was it difficult to find a publisher?
Yes. I have summated Everest to get where I am today. It took 182 queries to land a publisher. No one wanted to publish a 240,795 word novel. I have to hand it to Erudite Small Press for having the vision to see what my book could do in the marketplace.
What was the inspiration for Demon Vampire?
There are many answers to that question. The simplest is that I missed the era of Anne Rice's vampire. I missed the display of power in something that looked human and was clearly not. More than that, I wished to write of the control all vampires have. To see the same hand that caresses a neck eventually topple a building with little effort. There was a lack of control that is displayed in vampire novels today. I yearned to show the subtle touch the vampire I knew in my mind could give.
Zack Giver, the main character in your novel, comes across as extremely relatable to the average teenager. Was that deliberate, and are there autobiographical elements in his life story?
Yes, yes, and yes. There are many traits of Zack Giver that mirror me in youth. Knowing that he comes off as relatable is actually flattering in a sense. As far as intentions, I had more planning with the rest of the cast than I ever did with Zack.
On your blog you state that you've been writing for seventeen years. What was the first thing you wrote and how do you think your writing style has evolved over the years?
The first thing I ever wrote was a short story in 5th grade about robots. It was a revenge story and I never took the time to finish it before I turned it in. The teacher thought it was so creative that she gave me a C+ on a half finished paper. After that, I took up poetry, which I spent several years doing. I believe that my style has evolved greatly because of my ability with the written word. Needless to say, I have grown as a writer since 5th grade.
Much like Anne Rice's vampire novels, one of Demon Vampire's virtues is that it is an exceptionally poetic novel. What made you want to switch from prose to the novel format?
I used to spend two to four weeks on the "perfect" poem. I marveled at my own tower of Babel, gazing upon the way in which my words flowed onto the page and off of my lips. There was a beauty in it, a satisfaction that I enjoyed. With a few of my poems, I wanted to tell a story. I found that I had two options. Either construct the Iliad itself, or break format.
Favorite poem or poet?
William Blake's "The Tiger" "Tiger, tiger, burning bright, in the forests of the night." I loved the style and intrigue that poem was able to instill in my thoughts. It changed my way of thinking. I even wrote a poem mimicking its prose.
Moving onto vampires. You state on your blog that "It is my vision that those who remember the era of Anne Rice will see my epic as the answer to the mundane vampire that has propagated in the ebb of recent social tide." How do your vampires differ from the popular "Twilight" variety that saturates the media right now?
My vampires do not sparkle. They are not stone-cold, soulless, never-dreaming puppets that doubt their self-control. Other vampires may posture and threaten. My vampires simply kill people when they want them dead. There is no reason to hesitate in my world. The twilight strain is unsure of their level of restraint. My vampires may have heightened senses as well, but there is an echelon of control that is harnessed simply to take a step into the night. My vampires wield a strength that is able to ruin cities, not trailer parks. It takes precision to merely open a door instead of rip it out of the wall. The tween-vampire of late is a shell to the dream of vampires I grew up with. My vampire is daunted with real issues that plague their existence. They are faced with moral choices that fringe on the tipping point of losing their souls. To put is plainly, my vampires are alive and have human souls.
You describe your vampires as "powerful, elegant, sophisticated type... that have seeded desires and emotional ties to the world around them." Do you feel that strong emotional ties to the world help or hinder a vampire?
It depends on the vampire. Demetrious Del Marin is a musician that plays musical goblets of blood to fans of his gothic concert. He wears a smile, dresses in a suit, and
shakes hands. He is also a contract killer that justifies slaughtering human beings to donate to certain orphanages around the country. His kills are perfunctory. He shows no emotion and only lives to assist the lives of children in unfortunate scenarios. He is detached from people. It lends well to his profession, but wreaks havoc in his personal life. Another Vampire named Orhn Damascus is wrought with revenge for the loss of his lover. He is emotionally shackled to his desire to end the life of the one who took everything from him. Whether it is good or bad to have a tie to your world is not for me to decide, it is to be answered in the heart of the reader.
As a writer of vampire fiction, how do you explain the massive popularity of the "Twilight" series?
Romance sells, romantic angst more so. The series is exceptionally well written, English teachers tend to do these kinds of things. Throw in the dangerous allure of a vampire, and it's a recipe for success sold to the masses by the pound. I do not hate the twilight series exactly, I understand that it was not written for me. Just as Demon Vampire is not intended for children under sixteen. Twilight has teen chastity, I have sex, violence, and profanity. - Coupled with my poetic style, I aim to spread Demon Vampire throughout the planet.
What research did you do while writing Demon Vampire? How did you develop the mythology of the Vampeal?
When I read vampire novels growing up, I never noticed a half vampire. Japan dabbled in it with a few concepts, but never anything that crossed the sea. Everyone has heard of the human protagonist that is afraid of the vampires that have come into their life. No one has read of the character that is actually not human and half in the vampire world and half in the human. Vampeals may not be exactly new, but my conception of Redgold is. I was able to construct a ritual in which a bastard (unwed child-spawn of a vampire) vampeal could become a full vampire through consuming the crystallized blood of a fallen vampire. I would have to say that the most extraneous research that I had to do was looking up a map of 13th century Mongolia and the 15th century Ottoman Empire.
Demon Vampire (The Redgold Series) Page 73
