“I know, Alisha. I’m sad, too. And scared.” Vanora slid her arms around her older sister’s neck and kissed her cheek.
Nodding and fighting back tears, Alisha said, “I need to find someone to help me, but I’m afraid that no one will even believe me. Uncle Nicolau might, but I can’t be sure.”
“Do you think Uncle Nicolau and Aunt Crystal are safe?”
“I hope so, Vanora. They’re very devout, so I’m sure they are wearing crosses. I hope that is enough.”
“It wasn’t enough for Roman.”
“He wasn’t wearing his.” Alisha stood, her body trembling. She had found Roman’s cross while selecting a suit for him to be buried in. “He forgot it on his dresser yesterday morning.”
Stroking the cross around her neck, Vanora whimpered. “I don’t want him to be dead.”
“I don’t either, Snow Pea.” Alisha pulled back the covers to the bed. “Come on. Hop in.”
“I want to sleep with you,” Vanora protested.
“I’m not going to sleep tonight. I have to think, make plans. Perhaps we should have gone to Austin tonight instead of waiting until tomorrow. Maybe we should have run away last night.” Would running away save them? She doubted it. “I have to think.”
Vanora crawled into the bed and adjusted her cross. “But what about Roman? We can’t leave him.”
“Roman is a vampire now!” Alisha said sharply, her anger flaring.
“I don’t want him to be,” Vanora wailed in despair, her face contorted.
Alisha was instantly repentant. “Oh, Snow Pea, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I just feel so helpless. I shouldn’t have said that.” She sat on the edge of the bed and embraced her sister lovingly.
“He’s still our brother! Is he really going to hurt us?”
“I can’t believe that Roman could ever hurt us, but we can’t chance it. If you see him, run!”
“Okay,” Vanora said in a low voice.
Alisha kissed her sister’s forehead. “Sleep now. Tomorrow we’ll see what we can do.”
“Okay,” Vanora said in a shuddering voice. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Alisha walked to the door and pulled it open. She rotated the button on the doorknob so the door would lock when closed. “Good night,” she said, reaching for the light switch.
“Leave the lights on!”
“Of course.”
Alisha shut the door behind her quietly and strode up the hall to her room. Locking the door behind her, she felt much safer. The thick, sweet smell of the roses filled her room, comforting her. The curtains were drawn tightly over the windows and she knew the French doors were securely locked. Certain that she was safe, Alisha entered her gleaming bathroom and turned on the shower. After crying so much today and standing outside of the mausoleum, she felt stiff and dirty. A long hot shower would be a balm to her aching, tired body.
In her room she drew a clean, fresh nightgown from her dresser and some lacy underclothes, which she laid out on the counter in the bathroom. Pulling off her dress, she caught sight of her red, swollen face. Sweeping her blond hair back from her face, she stared at her reflection. The blotchy red spots and swelling made her not even look like herself. The small cross glimmered between her breasts and she took it off and laid it gently on the counter. She didn’t want it to discolor and she felt safe with another cross hanging on the doorknob.
Once in the shower, the hot, soothing water streaming over her body, Alisha started to feel a little better. She shampooed her hair gently and felt the muscles in her neck relax. Through the sound of shower spray, she heard a soft ringing. Turning off the water, she listened intently.
Grabbing a towel, she raced into the bedroom. Just before she reached the phone, it stopped ringing.
“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath.
Shivering, she dried herself off, hoping the caller would call back. Hurrying back into the bathroom, she started to dress for bed. She was just pulling on her nightgown when the phone rang again. She snatched up her silver chain and fastened it about her neck as she ran into her bedroom and answered the phone.
“Alisha, this is Nicolau. Crystal heard someone knocking on our bedroom door. I was in the shower and she was spreading some of that beauty muck all over her face and told whoever it was to wait. Well, the knocking continued. For some reason, Crystal got very scared. She said she kept asking if it was you and there was no response. I called you a few minutes ago and you didn’t answer. Were you over here? Tell me it was you, or Crystal is going to be calling the police. It was you, wasn’t it?”
Alisha felt fear clutch her in its cold grasp. Someone was in the house. A door or a window must have been left unlocked. Was it Roman or the other one?
“Yes, it was me, Uncle Nicolau. I didn’t answer her because Vanora is asleep and I didn’t want to disturb her. I just wanted to wish you a good night. You do have your door locked, don’t you?”
“Why do you ask?”
“There have been some burglaries in the neighborhood recently. Roman’s death has me unnerved. I just think we should be careful.”
“True, true. We lock our doors out of habit, so don’t worry about us. I’ll see you in the morning then, Alisha.”
“Good night, Uncle Nicolau,” Alisha said, fingering her chain, her expression thoughtful.
Hanging up, she snatched up the stake and hammer she had set on her bed stand the night before. Holding them in her trembling hands, she took several deep breaths. With a surge of confidence, she walked toward the bedroom door. She was tired of being afraid. She going to face the vampire and kill it. It was as simple as that.
The door shut behind her with a soft thud.
On the bathroom floor, a small silver cross that had slipped off its chain glinted in the light.
*
Roman awoke with a scream.
Frightened to find himself in total darkness, Roman struggled to capture a horrifying memory that lingered just beyond his recollection. Disoriented, he rubbed his eyes furiously, but still they did not adjust to the blackness that surrounded him.
Where was he?
He wasn’t in his room. It was never this dark.
What was happening?
Roman started to sit up, but his head cracked against something soft, yet unyielding. Confused, he lay back down, rubbing his head. Raising his hands, they nestled into a velvet cushion. Pressing harder, he felt a harder surface beneath the padding.
It was then he realized he was enclosed in some sort of box.
“What the hell?” His voice was a roar in the enclosed space.
Roman pressed his hands up, utilizing every bit of his strength. With a loud crack, the lid flipped open.
Roman scrambled to sit up, his hands grasping the edges of the container he had been trapped within.
His blood ran cold.
He was in a coffin within the mausoleum.
“Dear God in Heaven!” Roman’s voice echoed through the vast chamber.
With great haste, he clambered out of the coffin and stood among his long dead relatives. Incredible waves of fear engulfed him as he trembled in shock.
“What is this?”
A torch wavered above an open coffin several feet into the mausoleum. Roman approached it with trepidation. He recognized the coffin as the one that had been bound in chains. Staring into the empty coffin, he remembered gazing into the face of a demon while being lifted off the ground. His hand flew to his throat, the horror and searing pain of the memory piercing his mind. Instead of the gash that had been torn by long fangs, his hand touched smooth flesh.
“No, no, this can’t be,” he whispered.
The coffin before him was empty. Old, tattered clothes were shoved into one corner of the large coffin. The old one had risen. Alisha had been right. There had been a vampire. Correction. There was a vampire.
“Then I’m-” Roman choked on his words. Running his hands over his face, he could feel no physical difference. Al
l that he felt was fear and horror. “It can’t be. No! No! No, this can’t be happening. I’m dreaming. This is a nightmare. I am Roman Socoli!”
Yet, he was different. The shadows no longer hid secrets. With his new vampire power he could see every little detail of the mausoleum’s burial chamber.
“Oh, God,” he whispered. “Oh, God.”
The fear disappeared and rage engulfed him. Fury like he had never felt before consumed his body and mind and with a tormented cry, Roman lifted a fist above his head. He slammed it down onto the side of the old one’s coffin. The wood split apart beneath the force of his blow.
Roman staggered back in shock, gaping at the damage he’d inflicted so easily. The sheer physical strength he felt throughout his body and the magnitude of his emotions were overwhelming. He collapsed against a pillar, buried his face in his hands, and wept.
As he sat in the mausoleum, a sorrowful figure sobbing uncontrollably, the power of an unfathomable desire grew deep within him. Roman was far too depressed at first to pay much heed to it, but then it felt as if a fire was spreading from his chest into his limbs. He pulled off his jacket and wiped his tears away. He had to think clearly and make plans. He would have to talk to Alisha and tell her what had happened. That he truly wasn’t dead. Alisha had to understand. She believed in the supernatural.
An incredible pain ripped through his abdomen. In agony, he fell onto his side, writhing.
“The hunger speaks, my son.”
It was that same horrid voice from the previous night. It drifted from the shadows lingering around the heavy doors.
Roman lay curled on the floor, panting and struggling to control the agony churning within him.
A tall, elegant man dressed in one of Roman’s blue suits moved into the torch light. His hair was silver and his eyes were a dark blue under heavy brows. His appearance was that of someone in their sixties and he gazed down at Roman with a wicked smile upon his thin lips.
“You have to feed, Roman. You are now what I am. You must feed as I must,” the vampire said.
“You did this to me!”
“You need not thank me, my son. I give you the Dark Gift with great joy.”
“Gift? It’s a curse!”
The old man tapped Roman’s knees with his foot. “I was so tired of being alone, my son, and now you have joined me. I am happy. It’s been long since I roamed the night. Across the seas I called to you and you answered.”
Roman pressed his hands against his belly, the pain unbearable in its force. “No, no.”
“Yes, I did. With the last of my power, I called to blood and blood answered.”
Horrified that his noble actions could bring such evil into his life and that of his sisters, Roman shook his head adamantly. “No, it’s not true!”
The old man chuckled. “I have been calling out for so many years, but you were the first to heed me. I grant you immortality in gratitude.”
Shivering, Roman lashed out at the creature, but the vampire easily avoided him. “The sun has been down for three hours. It is nearing midnight. You have time to feed. Your Uncle and his wife are very snug in their bed, but unfortunately untouchable. Your little sister, Vanora, is also very safe. She is as pale as the moon. She will be a beautiful creature of the night.”
“Don’t hurt them, you bastard!”
The vampire laughed with amusement and leaned against Roman’s coffin. “I have fed. It is you that must feed.”
“Never! I won’t hurt my family!”
“Strange,” the old man said thoughtfully. “I awoke to this life with a hunger so powerful within me, I was quite mad until I fed. My wife was the one who joined me first, but the madness of the hunger never left her. She slew villagers by the dozen. They found her quite quickly and killed her.” The old man fell silent, lost in thought. “Sometimes the madness stays with a vampire after they have fed. If the priest hadn’t killed her, I would have had to in order to protect my other progeny.”
Roman clawed at the pillar, trying to get to his feet. If he could collect one of the splintered pieces of the old coffin, he could end the nightmarish creature before him.
“When I was freed from my coffin this time, the hunger was sheer torture. I tried to feast upon the little glowing one, but she was wearing a damned cross. Your other sister, the one who resembles my dear dead wife, is also very clever. She chased me away with a cross she drew on some paper.” He chuckled with delight. “But even the smartest ones make mistakes. I’m enchanted with her, Roman. She will be a beautiful vampire Bride. She is in your office right now. It was there she confronted me. Lucky for me, the cross had fallen from her necklace. She is there now waiting for you. Go to her. Let her join us.”
“You bastard! I’ll kill you!” Roman grunted with pain.
“I think not.” The vampires smiled at him with dark pleasure. “Soon you will go mad with the hunger. It is inevitable. I already can see the madness in your eyes.” He leaned toward Roman to stare into his eyes. “Yes, it’s there. Tomorrow you will be more receptive to my words. As for now, I shall wander the streets and see how the world has changed since the hunters trapped me in my coffin.”
Roman watched with hate-filled eyes as the old man’s body melted through the crack between the two doors into the mausoleum and vanished.
“I have to get out of here,” Roman muttered. He had to get away from Alisha and Vanora. He couldn’t hurt them.
Unsteadily, Roman moved toward the doors. The darkness within him boiled and whispered to him, the predator within rising upwards. His veins burned as he pushed through the pain and found his strength. Without hesitating, passed right through the crack in the doors just his great-great-great-grandfather had.
The house loomed before him, majestic and ominous. He stared up at its darkened windows with longing. This was his home and he would never be able to enter it again.
The hunger hit him again full force. Suddenly the longing was not homesickness. Roman clenched his fists so violently that his nails dug deep into the flesh of his palms.
“No! Never!” he whispered hoarsely.
Swiveling about sharply, he deliberately strode across the darkened lawn and away from the house. As the hunger billowed within him, his steps slowed.
Alisha was in the study, waiting for him.
“No!” Roman forced himself to walk on.
Within a few minutes, he reached the high stone wall that enfolded the estate. Roman lifted his hands and touched the cold stone. Could he scale it? Another wave of the hunger washed over him and the incredible desire to return to the house tore at him. The madness was coming; he could feel it. He swung about and stared at the house barely visible through the grove of trees. The desire to feed was becoming overwhelming.
“I have to control it,” Roman whispered into the darkness. He placed his hands once more on the wall and wedged his fingers between the cracks. With hesitant movements, he climbed the wall. It was far easier than he had ever imagined. Easily reaching the top, he hesitated as the urge to return gripped him once again. With a growl, he leaped off the wall. In the back of his mind, he wanted to break a leg or, better yet, his neck, and end this mad dream. Instead, he landed effortlessly and safely on the sidewalk.
“Damn!”
A quaint, middle-class neighborhood that surrounded the estate emerged and his hunger surged. He had to get away from these people too. He could no longer trust himself . Every fiber of his being yearned for the life-giving warmth of blood.
Roman ran blindly for several minutes, dogs around the neighborhood barking and howling as they detected his presence.
Turning a corner, a majestic church came into view, its steeple rising into the night sky. At once Roman felt white fire licking along his skin, and he came to a halt before the house of God, where an inner light illuminated the stained-glass windows. This was his church, the church he entered every Sunday.
The hunger was unbearable now, ripping him apart. Clenching his hands,
he fought against the desire to return to the estate and feed on his sister.
I have to die!
Roman moved toward the church, fighting the Holy Fire repulsing him. The crosses inset on the doors blazed to life, blinding him. Covering his face, he staggered off into the bushes lining the building. Desperate, he kicked in one of the basement windows and slid inside. Hot invisible fire burned against his flesh.
“Dear God, help me,” he whispered as he moved through the darkened basement. He sat down in a folding chair and hugged himself protectively. “I did not ask for this curse. Have mercy on me, please.”
The discomfort worsened as the minutes ticked by. The holiness of the church and the hunger plunged Roman into a living hell. Hands trembling, he pushed his sweat soaked hair from his brow.
“Kill me, God. Kill me now,” he moaned in anguish.
Then something snapped within him and the beast that was his hunger seized full control.
Desperate to escape the inferno of holy power engulfing him, he threw himself about the basement, furniture splintering. His crazed, glowing red eyes caught sight of the broken window and he leaped easily through it and hurled away from the church.
Rachel Williams slammed the door of her car shut and heaved her grocery bag onto her hip. The pretty young woman with ebony hair and skin hated working so late at the local supermarket, but it was the only way she could attend school. She started to take a step forward, then hesitated. She never felt safe after dark, but the boarding house where she lived appeared strangely ominous.
Presently, the only people living within the house were the elderly couple that were her landlords. Lately acts of violence had not been isolated just to ‘bad’ neighborhoods, but were spreading into the suburbs. She’d just read about a young woman her age getting raped in the mall parking lot. All day she had felt nervous and wasn’t exactly sure why, but now, staring at the unlighted house, she felt uneasy.
“Hey, lady, can you spare some change?” a young voice taunted from the shadows.
In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete First Season: Episodes 1-5 Page 5
