King's Blood: Vampire Descent (A Serial Novel, Part 4)

by Day, P. J.

  I looked at him with a seething, sarcastic look, “Oh you’re right. I’ll go ahead and just put this weapon down so you can just continue trying to kick my ass. I swear you all live in opposite land around here.”

  Milton slowly walked up to me and stuck out his hand asking for the dagger. I pointed the dagger at his chest. He looked back at the old man.

  “Jack, this was a test and nothing more.”

  I turned to Ming whose hand was impaled into the tree and calmly asked, “Were you guys just testing me?”

  Ming responded by letting out a wail.

  “I don’t know, that sounds like he had murder on his mind,” I said. I looked at Milton, “What? You want me trust you again? You don’t do a good job of earning it, I say.”

  The old man approached me, looking me deep into my eyes with an eerie and haunting look. As he got closer, I noticed his deep blue eyes contrasted the dark, recesses of his prominent brow, which added to his otherworldly appearance. He pushed Milton aside and offered me his hand, which had a slight jitter. He said, “My name is Lucretius.”

  “Well, nice to meet you, Lucretius. Now pardon me but, I don’t know if I want to continue playing in your playground. You vampires are an unpredictable lot.”

  Lucretius lowered his hand and gave me a smile. “Do you know how many vampires have come here, specifically looking for me?”

  “No, I don’t, and why would anyone desire to come to this madhouse?”

  Lucretius squinted his eyes. “You don’t know anything about who you are, do you?”

  “I told you,” Milton added.

  Ru began to stand up and I looked down at him and pointed the dagger at his throat. I shook my head with a scowl. He looked up at me and decided to continue staying on the ground. I eyed Lucretius, “I know what I am, isn’t that enough?”

  “Many vampires, who remain in isolation around the world, hidden in the shadows, imprisoned, tortured, and abused, would trade in their longevity in order to be in the place you are right now, do you know that?”

  “Getting my ass kicked? Extorted? I don’t think so.”

  “It’s very difficult to trust you, Jack,” said Milton. “Do you know Tonghua who commit to a life of mortals either quit, commit suicide, or disappear? Yet, you managed to stay alive all these years and even got a job with human beings?”

  “Well, it obviously didn’t work that well, now did it?” I said.

  “You are a powerful entity, Jack, one who is resourceful and strong of mind. We would be more than willing to exchange information with you to make sure we all can survive,” said Lucretius.

  “I gave you my word that I would stick with the deal, why wasn’t that enough?” I yelled. “Why must you continue to deceive me?”

  “If you wish to be a Jiang-Shi, you cannot be a vampire in name only. We cannot withstand weakness within our clan. I hope you understand, Jack,” said Milton.

  “Look, I’ll work with you, but no more surprises, okay?” I said.

  Lucretius nodded his head.

  “Can I keep this dagger?”

  “You may,” Lucretius said.

  Milton walked over to Ming and pulled the dagger from the tree. Ming curled to the floor as he favored his hand. I offered Ru my arm so he could get up from the ground. I looked at Lucretius. “I’ve proved myself enough. I’m assuming you are the instructor of the Jiang-Shi ways, will you teach me?”

  “I can make many things happen, Mr. King,” Lucretius said with a fatherly smile.

  As Ru lifted himself up from the ground, the sound of helicopters began to grow louder. A large white light dances and splashes through the tree branches. Lucretius, Milton, Ru, and Ming looked up into the canopy with their mouths agape.

  “Sounds like a Zhi-10,” said Milton.

  “A what?” I asked.

  “Or a Zhi-9, I don’t know. For our sake, it better be a 9; those don’t have rockets,” said Milton.

  “It could be the military,” Lucretius said. “We must head back to the compound through the back side of the mountain. The trail is dense and provides adequate cover.”

  The five us ran into the heart of the forest under the cover of night. The helicopters that swept the tops of the trees were an ominous sign that something very powerful suspected our possible presence within the area. I had a funny feeling that there was history with the Jiang-Shi and its native government.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cold winds battered the cliffside trail which led out of the forest and up the mountain. The south face was flat like an iron, due to the erosive effects of heavy, violent gusts. The foreboding sounds of helicopter blades slashing through the sky grew louder, like a metronome of thunderous claps as they still hovered above our heads. Their spotlights darted through the thick brush that covered the trail, looking for signs of life.

  I hastily followed the group up the steep cliff. There was not a hint of panic in the Jiang-Shi’s eyes as this seemed like something they expected or had already gone through before.

  “Is this normal?” I yelled over the helicopters.

  “Yes, but not this close to the mountain,” said Lucretius.

  “We must hurry up the cliffside. The helicopters won’t fly that high...dangerous winds,” Milton said loudly.

  We sprinted up the trail. Small pebbles and mud kept getting kicked in my face as I was the last one in the group. The higher we went up into the mountain, the louder and stronger the winds grew. The higher we went, the further down the mountain the helicopters maintained their search.

  Lucretius, old and winded, abruptly motioned us to quit our ascent.

  “We can’t stop,” I yelled.

  Lucretius bent down, hands over his knees. He pointed toward the edge cliff. Sure enough, I saw two helicopters circling the forest below. None brave enough to venture higher than a few hundred feet up the limestone cliffside.

  “They have their limits,” added Milton.

  I looked out toward the distance beyond the forest and down by the Li River, Guilin City sparkled in the darkness of the early morning. I turned my attention toward the west and a gentle glow began to blanket the horizon.

  “Are we stuck up here?” I asked. “We’re going to get scorched.”

  “The temple is just a few meters ahead,” said Milton. “There is also a small cave system up ahead and left of the fork, that opens to the east face of the mountain. From there, we can descend down to the compound.”

  “A temple?” I asked. “May I see it?”

  Milton looked at Lucretius for approval.

  Lucretius nodded.

  “Yes, of course, but you need to tell me where we can find the Zeo?” asked Milton.

  “I will tell you, but first let me speak with Lucretius.”

  Lucretius seemed a bit more wise than Milton and the rest of the Jiang-Shi. Of course, the old man’s looks had something to do with that particular prejudice. I was curious as to his age. Also, he wasn’t Chinese. What business does a Lucretius have in the middle of Southern China?

  Lucretius looked at Milton. “Descend with Ru and Ming. Let them heal their wounds. We need them at full strength. I don’t trust the aerial surveillance. I need you to send scouts and find out if there is more activity in the surrounding area.”

  Milton gave Lucretius a subordinate nod. He, Ru, and Ming turned left on the fork on the cliffside trail toward the cave system. I continued to follow Lucretius up a rocky path. The trail—which was carved out from the limestone—ended abruptly at edge of a precipitous drop. Old wooden interconnecting planks attached to a large jutting stone on the face of the mountain; it was the only way to continue to the temple. Old rusty chains were hung on the rock’s face, so hikers had something to grasp as they traversed around the mountain bend.

  I looked down and noticed a straight 500-foot drop. I gave Lucretius a salty look and said, “Are you kidding me?”

  Lucretius was already holding onto the rusty chains, carefully watching his step. “You
may go down with the others if you wish. If you desire to remain ignorant on the nature of things, you have my permission to retreat.”

  “Wish to remain ignorant?” I asked, slightly vexed. “See, I was right about you, old man. You know some crazy stuff, don’t you?”

  “Knowing does not make one wise, if that is what you imply.” Lucretius carefully shifted his right foot to the right, followed by his left foot, connecting them together in rhythm, as his stomach hugged the rock. He stopped, closed his eyes, and tilted his head downward as a heavy gust of wind attempted to blow the old man off the mountain. I took a deep breath and gripped the rusty chain as tight as I could. I kept my eyes focused on Lucretius, mimicking his every step.

  As we turned the corner, I could see Lucretius’s temple nestled inside an alcove surrounded by spiny, green thicket. It looked like it may have been carved from the rock, as the walls of the temple matched the colors of the rain-stained limestone: green with rust-colored lines. The roof had a typical Asian stylized curvature and it too, was not made from a differing material, other than limestone from the mountain.

  Every time I shifted my foot, I heard the boards splinter and crack. I was meticulously careful as I traversed the old wooden planks. I moved a lot slower than Lucretius as he seemed to know perfectly well where to step on each board. I was fearful that one would give way to my weight as I was slightly heavier than Lucretius.

  I could have attempted to tread the south side of rock like a mountain goat, but the old red running shoes I had on barely had any tread left. One slip and I would suffer the same result as if I were stabbed with a pure silver stake through the heart: death.

  With surprising agility and deft for an old vampire, Lucretius made to it to the top of the bedrock without incident. He looked at me with a wry smile. “Whether you go slow or fast, if a plank must go, it will go.”

  I picked up my pace, heeding Lucretius’s advice. I stopped before I stepped onto the final wooden plank. I bent my knees and jumped over it and made a perfect landing onto the bedrock where Lucretius stood waiting. “Harrowing, right?” he said.

  “How high is this place?”

  “Highest point in all of Guilin,” Lucretius said, proudly. “Come.”

  I followed him up the stony steps that led to the temple. Lining the walkway were old statues of dragons and of men in armor holding swords. Some of them were broken at the waist, others were barely recognizable due to wind erosion.

  “Did you build this place?” I asked.

  “This place was built under the Tang Dynasty. The foundation was laid by Buddhists and later taken over and built by Daoists.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Over a thousand years ago.”

  “Shouldn’t this place be protected for historical significance?” I asked.

  “The Chinese are very superstitious. No one comes up here because they think demonic peasants with a thirst for blood live up here. As you can see, they are partly correct.”

  We passed by a statue of a man who had a dragon on his back. He pointed to the statue’s mouth, slightly brushing the limestone figure’s fangs. “There is history here, Jack. Our history.”

  The opening to the temple had no doors as there was only a five-foot-wide archway with silk drapes which fluttered in the wind. Unlit torches hung at each side of the entrance, as there was probably no electricity this high up in the mountain. I looked back before entering the temple, and the morning fog was beginning to fill the valley below like a rolling flurry of spilled cotton.

  “Come in, Jack,” said Lucretius, motioning me with his hand. “The sun can get rather nasty up here on a clear day.”

  The inside of the temple was an abnormal mixture of differing architectural styles. As soon as I walked in, a large open space greeted my presence with large, white Grecian-Roman pillars stemming from the floor to the ceiling. Swords, knives, and a set of sharp pole-arms adorned the walls. A set of armor with tightly woven leather plates and golden embroidery hung on a rusty metallic frame. A marble study desk with a primitive wooden chair made of rickety branches rested at the back of the large room. My nostrils were filled with the infusion of aromatic oils and incense; the scents of cassia, tea, and mastic lingered and drifted in the enclosed air.

  It seemed that Lucretius wrote and read prolifically, as stacks of paper with writings in Chinese characters and Western phonetic lettering were spread throughout the main room, some in print, others scribed. Boxes of unused ink were strewn against the walls of the temple.

  “Please, sit,” said Lucretius, pointing to a large silk pillow on the hard, stony ground. I sat down and crossed my legs. Lucretius slowly sat down onto another pillow across from me, also crossing his legs. I was surprised at his elasticity. “So, Jack, where can we get those pills?” he asked, quickly getting to the point.

  “What is with you guys and these pills? You make it sound like it’s a cure for vampirism. Well, it’s not and distributing it recklessly might cause issues.”

  “You still don’t know what is going on, do you?” Lucretius asked, shaking his head lightly at my reaction. “Do you know what makes you, you?”

  “Well, that is kind of why I’m here. I was hoping you’d tell me. I’ve been drifting for years, but surviving, and frankly, up until now, quite splendidly.”

  “I commend you but you’re very lucky. Jon, who you met in the facility, didn’t last long, as you saw for yourself.”

  “Yes, I feel bad for him.”

  “Jon was born to peasant farmers in Daxu. He was rejected when he started to exhibit symptoms of his condition—I need to stop saying that, what I meant is...his true nature...his symptoms of his true nature.”

  “So, you took him in?”

  “Yes, we did and we trained him in the ways of the Jiang-Shi, however, his mother got really sick last winter and he moved back to Daxu against our recommendation, choosing to live with humans. Guangzhou Jiyin Engineering eventually kidnapped him, based on rumors of his vampirism.”

  “When we were in the facility together, he mentioned that we’re being exterminated, is that true?”

  “Guilin City used to have the largest concentration of vampires in the world. We all lived in peace. In fact, the Jiang-Shi composed the majority of the night workers in Guilin. They worked as butchers, dock men, watchmen. Guilin City grew due to our efforts in keeping the city productive day and night. We were happy as we were well-fed by the fresh blood in the slaughterhouses that began springing up around Guilin as China’s agriculture capacity grew,” Lucretius said. He stood up, his knees cracked loudly as his old lanky frame stretched from the awkward position of sitting down like a kindergartner. “Let me show you this.”

  I followed Lucretius to his study desk. He pulled an old wooden box from underneath the desk which was full of old newspapers. He handed me an old paper that was dated August 31, 1991. There was a black and white picture of a robust-looking dead Chinese man with a prominent brow lying in the street, his chest was bloodied and gashed.

  “I can’t read this. I don’t know how to read Chinese,” I said.

  Lucretius opened the paper and began to read the article out loud, “A prominent member of the Ling family, Lu Ping, was found dead in the Xiufeng District. He was found mutilated, with bites all over his body and his heart missing. Locals say there have been reports of men, possessed by evil spirits, drinking blood from livestock at night. Police are questioning the owners of local slaughterhouses and farms which handle livestock to see if there is any connection with these bloodthirsty individuals and the murder of Lu Ping.” Lucretius put the paper down on his table and lowered his eyes. “We were all driven from Guilin City after this incident.”

  “Was it a vampire who did this?” I asked. “I mean, I haven’t seen any reports of vampires actively hunting humans for a quite a number of years,” I said.

  “Yes, it was one of us who murdered this man. But it was not as cold-blooded and senseless as you think.” Lucr
etius walked over to the leather armor that hung on the wire frame. Its plates were clean, not battle-worn. It lacked any marks or indentations that would have suggested it had ever felt the blade of a sword or the tip of an arrow. “The Jiang-Shi have inhabited Southern China for half a millennia. We have fought for emperors, fought against invaders, and contributed to the history and economy of its growth. We are, in essence, warriors, but we, too, have a sordid past.”

  “So, why was this man murdered?” I asked.

  “The Ling Clan comes from a long line of vampire hunters. Their bloodline has spanned for as long as there has been a lineage of vampires,” he said. “The vampires, who adopted the name of Jiang-Shi, moved to southern China three thousand years ago. They were savages, pleasure-seeking brutes who had an uncompromising taste for blood. They hunted their human victims in cold blood and were granted protection by the emperor within the differing dynasties for their warrior prowess. The Lings were peasants who settled in villages by the Li River shortly after the Jiang-Shi settled in Guilin City. They vowed to protect the villagers and peasants from the terror created by the vampires.”

  Lucretius’s words sparked memories that I always wanted to forget. Self-awareness within our kind comes later in life, unfortunately. Some of us have committed unspeakable acts, because our nature drives us to fulfill a lust that is incomprehensible to humans. A bloodlust—if left unchecked—that is damaging to our ecosystem.

  “So, was the murder justified?” I asked.

  “The Ling Clan fought the Jiang-Shi for hundreds of years. The Lings became so proficient in weaponry—especially crossbows, and the forging of silver—it forced the Jiang-Shi into hiding. They eventually agreed to a truce. The Jiang-Shi later became an integral part to the Guilin nighttime economy and the Ling Clan became expert fishermen in a technique that up until now, is becoming extinct. They tie the necks of water birds, so they don’t swallow the fish they catch and they use them to fish as other cultures have used falcons to hunt. Ever since China began advancing economically and technologically by leaps and bounds, the Jiang-Shi have thrived in peace time and the Ling Clan has struggled to keep up with technological advances of the new economy.”