NOCTIPHOBIA

by Carol Grayson

  "So young but already weary of life?" the man repeatedly provoked Markus, who was unsure of how to begin a conversation with such a creature.

  "Who are you?" he asked, making it a point to keep his voice casual due to his insecurity. Nonetheless he shivered inwardly. This wasn't what he had imagined the first encounter would be like.

  A dismissive sneer crossed over the thin lips. "Abraham van Hoorn." The name didn't mean anything to Markus.

  "Are you a…"

  The sneer expanded somewhat.

  "A vampire, yes, that's right."

  The voice still sounded totally emotionless.

  Finally, success was within reach! Markus' heart beat wildly, which the stranger noticed due to his keen senses. Instinctively, his tongue slid over his lips, but he still managed to control himself.

  "Are you – the only one?" the young man asked almost timidly.

  The man dressed in dark hues shook his head.

  "No."

  Markus once again took a deep breath. But, how was he supposed to convince this creature to help them? He was really and truly here– him, the ambassador of the last few free people. He felt as if he were part of a cheap science-fiction movie, in which the captain of a spaceship encounters aliens for the first time, desperately trying to find a way to communicate.

  Abraham van Hoorn, died and reborn as a vampire in 1876, waited patiently until the youth had completed his contemplations.

  "We need your help," Markus stammered, plucking up all his courage and attempting to look directly into the unusual visitor’s eyes, which completely backfired due to their pulsating darkness.

  "I know. We are aware of your desires and have been observing you in your search. It seems to me as if you are confusing perdition with freedom," came the unruffled response. "It's the only thing that we still have," the youth now mumbled, even though he wasn't really sure what the stranger had meant with his statement.

  A hoarse laugh was the response.

  "That's the truth. You've long ago created your own type of purgatory."

  Imploringly, Markus glanced at the tall form in front of him. His counterpart was dressed in an old-fashioned captain's costume. Wavy, silver-grey hair billowed around the thin face housing such deep-set eyes. His skin was impeccably smooth appearing almost translucent in its pallor.

  "Please!" Markus simply stated. He didn't know what else to say. already seemed to know everything.

  This creature

  Van Hoorn contemplated the situation before eventually responding: "Well then,

  we're ready. Because your governments have barricaded all the monuments for visitors, I would suggest that we meet at a former tourist attraction. We'll get together at Bran Castle in Romania as soon as the moor is full again. Consider this your respite. Your decision cannot be undone!"

  Markus didn't miss the warning cynicism in van Hoorn's voice; nevertheless, he was greatly relieved to have received the offer.

  "Dracula Castle– irony of history."

  "We'll be there," he promised.

  A sudden breeze took hold of the figure and dismantled it into wispy shadows melding with the darkness. Markus was alone once again.

  * * *

  They crossed the lush border in small groups. For some, the trip wasn't easy – having to evade the checkpoints and trekking halfway across Europe. They didn't dare to light a fire at night for fear of being discovered. Entire families had concealed themselves in the impenetrable Romanian forests until the time finally came. Then they scurried like shy animals, one after the other, into the castle which used to serve as a port of call for curious tourists.

  The dining room was illuminated from countless candles. A festively decorated table stood mid-center. The refugees were greeted by a warming fire and exquisite meals. Garbed in noble robes, ladies and gentlemen of such alabaster beauty– albeit their lascivious glances

  – escorted the arrivals with their dirty faces and, in some cases, even torn clothes to the tables where they hungrily feasted upon the abundant banquet.

  Wine eased the atmosphere. Laughter could even occasionally be heard. People spoke easily amongst each other, just like in the good, old days.

  Abraham van Hoorn, obviously holder of a higher rank within the hosts, joined Markus and Dr. Hermanns.

  "You realize that this is only a barter deal, don't you?" he addressed the grey-haired anthropologist with the dark horn-rimmed glassed. He nodded, trembling inwardly with excitement, finally so close to his goal after searching for so many decades.

  "Anything is better than slavery and stupefaction," he resolutely responded.

  "Well, we're slaves to eternity," van Hoorn stated quietly conspiratorially winking at Markus, who suddenly felt very ill at ease.

  "The people here today are here by choice. They know the consequences," Dr. Hermanns claimed, an almost childishly bright anticipation shining in the blue-grey eyes of the man in his mid sixties.

  "Really?" Markus silently questioned.

  "Ultimately, everything has pros and cons," the leader of the refugees philosophised further.

  "Of course," commented van Hoorn with a smirk, "even for us. Your habitat will indeed expand, but your existence will still underlie certain – shall we say– laws."

  "Please don't misunderstand me – 'eternal' laws," van Hoorn emphasize shortly thereafter.

  The old man nodded. No, he didn't want to back down despite the words of warning. None of the people who had made it this far would do that!

  "Then you also know that we can only alleviate your children and not convert them?"

  For the first time, Markus understood the gravity of their decision. But there was no turning back now – that much was obvious.

  "And one more thing: Never become too greedy," van Hoorn warned them. Then he turned and continued onto the other guests.

  Long past midnight – the younger children had much earlier huddled together, falling sleep on the old, dusty upholstered furniture– the moment that everyone had been waiting for finally arrived.

  A frumpishly dressed host stood behind almost every one of the two hundred guests. As if cued by an invisible signal, the vampires exposed their long tusks and drove them into their visitors' necks. The mouths of the people formed a surprised‘O’ but emanated only a weak gurgle, their fear-stuck eyes wide open, clearly demonstrating the shock effect. The bloodsuckers now also in turn partook of a delicious meal. It was a perfect trade-off.

  * * *

  Markus' birth as a vampire was totally unspectacular and took place in one of the musty-smelling basement rooms of the castle, where– apart from the newly converted – only some empty cases of wine and various old junk were stored.

  One after the other, the erstwhile refugees awakened in the darkened rooms, the windows tightly nailed up with boards. A sort of internal timer had awakened them at the beginning of the following night. The time had finally come to enjoy their newly acquired freedom: Literally speaking, because they were all very hungry. Exactly what was it that van Hoorn had warned them about?

  "Don't become too greedy," Markus remembered as an agonizing craving rampaged in his guts. All the same he instinctively understood what was meant: One had to manage their resources well!

  "We were never very good at that as people," the thought shot sarcastically through his mind.

  During this night, the former freemen und women parted ways. Each one of them would lead their own life or– better yet– live in their own personal hell. They were no longer dependant upon each other and were only responsible for themselves. Every one of them had to find their own refuge in which they would be safe during the day.

  "So we still have to hide. But at least a coffin isn't as expensive as an apartment."

  Markus felt van Hoorns cynicism taking hold of him. The only thing that they had to fear was sunlight! But the pros of their new existence exceeded the cons by far! He and the others inquisitively began to explore their newly acquired skills. Space
and time weren't as significant as they used to be. The first thing that he did was take off and throw away his watch. Walls couldn't stop him, cameras couldn't detect him and – best of all– women wouldn't be able to resist him.

  The first time that he stared at the brightly lit city below him while bathing in the tingly night air from the top of Berlin's television tower, Markus knew that he had made the right decision. The last recollections that he had of his human existence were fading by the minute. He felt like a giant bird of prey that deliberately chose its kill. That's how pure freedom tasted!

  * * *

  “Get out of here!” swore the commandant of Unit Seven of Global Security, who was patrolling in the ‘Wedding’ district of Berlin.

  “Thirteen sick notes within the last four weeks! If this continues, we’ll have to request external backup.”

  “Maybe it’s a new flu epidemic,” speculated the secretary who had just placed the current sick note on the desk.

  “Nonsense! I bet that half the guys are off due to the soccer game.”

  “But the stadiums were closed to the public long ago.”

  “So what, nowadays everything is broadcasted either on the boob -tube or in the internet. You don’t need more than a few cameras as audience replacement in order to broadcastworldwide.”

  The mousy secretary with the fashionable short haircut nodded.

  “That’s for sure, but I don’t really feel well myself today either,” she confessed, anxiously glancing at her employer.

  “Don’t tell me that you’re going to let me down too,Mrs. Menden?” the commandant demanded in a reproachful voice looking up from his papers.

  He was just in time to see the forty-something woman first sway and then fall down in a dead faint. He immediately called the emergency doctor.

  * * *

  Dr. Bertram examined the skinny Sybille Menden, who was still lying on the floor and had only just started to regain consciousness after he had given her an injection to improve circulation.

  “Well,” he started, “it seems as if we’ve got a real epidemic on our hands. You’re already the third person that I’ve treated with circulatory problems within the past couple of days. If it had been midsummer, I would have assumed that we were dealing here with sunstroke, isn’t that just something…”

  Whilst talking, he gently slapped her cheeks trying to get the still-dazed woman to return to earth.

  “What do you mean with ‘isn’t that just something’?” the commander inquired.

  The emergency doctor, who was still kneeling beside the patient, peered up at him.

  “Here, see for yourself,” he suggested,tilting Sybille’s thin neck gently to the side so that the small, bloody puncture holes could be seen.

  “We’ve seen quite a few of th ese in the past couple of days, even though the patients seem to be bright-eyed and bushytailed otherwise. However, we’ve also registered the first couple of fatalities due to physical exhaustion.”

  The head of Unit Seven put on a concerned facial expression but Dr. Bertram dismissed his worries.

  “Maybe we’re just dealing with a mutated insect. Scientists today just can’t be stopped when it comes to cloning and genetic engineering madness. Who know what’s bred behind closed laboratory doors and – more importantly– what manages to escape.” With these words the doctor stood up, helping the secretary to her feet at the same time. Sybille was noticeably embarrassed by her dizzy spell and quickly adjusted her clothes.

  “In the emergency room we’ve already christened this phenomenon ‘The Dracula Syndrome’”, the emergency doctor scoffed as he packed his utensils and stethoscope into his doctor’s bag.

  “But each era has its disease,” and with that statement, he left. Sybille Menden now sat down on the visitor’s chair in front of her boss’ desk. He poured her a glass of water from the decanter. Her hands were still somewhat shaky as she accepted the glass with a muted “Thank you”. Nevertheless, she now felt much better due tothe injection. She wouldn’t go back to work tomorrow – as a matter of fact, she’d never go back to work again.

  * * *

  Vita Carol Grayson:

  Born in Krefeld/Germany Carol followed the literary traces of her grandfather Hardy Kickers who became known as a composer and author of regional novels in the 1940s and 1950s. Therefore, it was obvious to found at first a music publishing company which takes care of the partly forgotten, nostalgic hit treasures which are very popular in German Rhineland until today.

  Presently, the author is mainly writing Mystery and Dark Fantasy short stories and novels. But also children's stories and some crime stories are put to paper by her. Some of her short stories have been and are published in German anthologies. Several of her stories won awards.

  So far, she published several audio books with dark romance short stories. The vampire novel series “LUX AETERNA" - The adventures of the vampire Jason Dawn - is published in German only up to now and includes so far 6 volumes. Meanwhile, an exclusive marketing has been built around the Jason Dawn Saga such as the tailor-made garments, perfumes or ornaments of the characters acting in the Saga. Find more information here: http://jasondawn-luxaeterna.blogspot.com/