“Looks like the remains of a serious bar fight,” Steve said in a hushed tone. It felt as if we shouldn’t be there, and he almost whispered as if someone could hear us.
I wandered behind the bar as Hope sat overturned chairs upright. Steve switched the mode of his light to a florescent bar that lit the room more evenly. I used my own flashlight to explore the glasses and bottles stashed on shelves behind the bar. The bottles didn’t have labels; I had no idea what they might have been. Sarsaparilla? Most of the glasses were broken or at least chipped. Broken glass crunched beneath my hiking boots as I walked around. “Hey, there’s another door here.”
Steve and Hope came over to check out my discovery, an unimpressive door that probably led to a storage room of some kind. I wanted in, though; maybe we could find something to help solve this mystery. Why would there be an old-fashioned saloon dug into the side of an underground cave? The door had a wooden beam across it, like an old-fashioned lock. But, why lock it from the outside?
It took a few minutes for Steve to pry the bar open, but once the bar was up, the door swung out easily enough. I pointed my flashlight inside. The storage room before us did not look anything like a storage room, or even a room, really. It looked like another section of the cave. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all stone, smooth as if it had naturally formed that way by eons of water sliding over the walls. It might have been a waterfall at one time. In the center of the floor, a black hole the size of a half dollar had been drilled. It looked like a drain of some sort, but the room now stood just as dry as everything else in the cave.
Nothing about the situation made sense. What made sense about an odd room with a bar on the door at the back of a saloon inside a cave in the middle of a desert? Nothing. The hole in the floor just exemplified the weirdness.
“What the hell?” Hope asked. Steve shrugged. I just looked at the hole. Hope shook her head. “You’re the archeology wiz. What is that thing?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen or heard of anything like this.” The hole peered up at us like an eye. I shined my light around the walls, looking for something, anything that would help explain this, but there was nothing. The walls were all one smooth formation. “This is all too creepy. Let’s get out of here.”
“Don’t wuss out on me now,” Steve cajoled. “I’m sure there’s more to find in this place, and maybe we’ll figure it out.”
Chills ran down my spine and goose bumps broke out on my arms beneath my jacket. “No, let’s go.” Hope must have felt it too because she started to back out of the room.
The door slammed. Hope turned and pushed against it forcefully, but it wouldn’t open. Panic jumped into my throat. The bar must have fell. How stupid could we be?
Hope started screaming.
I look back now and wonder if the screaming woke the thing, or if it had already been awake. It must have awoken when we opened the door. Otherwise, we could have just walked out, right? It doesn’t matter now.
Something came out of the hole in the floor. It slid up like an oily black shadow and latched onto Hope. She screamed louder. The shadow settled on her skin, covering her face. It slid into her open mouth. The screaming stopped, and Hope fell to the floor. Steve and I stood in horror. It happened so fast and we had no idea what to do.
“Oh my God,” Steve said, shining the light on Hope’s now missing face. The black oil had eaten through her skin and bone. It slid off of Hope and across the floor towards Steve. He backed away, but only backed against the smooth wall. He dropped the flashlight and it broke. The light flickered out. I could hear Steve scratching at the wall and making an animalistic noise deep in his throat. Then, silence.
I knew I was alone. I knew I would be dead in just a few more seconds. Resigned, I sat down and accepted it. My acceptance probably saved my life, and damned me to hell.
The shadow fell over me. I could feel it. It entered me. It didn’t kill me like the others. It lingered on my skin like hot baby oil, stinging, but only a little unpleasantly. It burned on my insides like drinking a really good schnapps or whisky. I thought of death. What would the other side be like? I closed my eyes tightly, waiting for death. It didn’t arrive. I opened my eyes a few minutes later and found that I could see everything clearly. I could see every detail of the room as if daylight streamed in. My flashlight was not even on. I stood up and took off my jacket, suddenly too hot. I looked down on my dead friends. They were beyond help. I turned around and the door to the room gaped open.
I walked out, out of the room, out of the saloon, out of the cave. I needed sunshine desperately like air.
When I reached the outer edge of the cave and the sun poured into the darkness, I felt the thing inside me stir. How long had it been since it had seen the sun? Had it ever seen the sun? I didn’t know. I only knew that it liked the sun, the heat, and it felt good.
I went home and took a long, hot shower. The thing inside me settled down. I could not think at all when it stirred. I have been trying to control it better, but when it becomes hungry and stirs, I lose control. It turns me into a vampire.
The first time it happened remains in my head like a nightmare. After my shower, I went to bed and slept for over a day. When I awoke, the thing stirred for the first time. My thoughts scattered like dice in a Yahtzee game. When I finally managed to collect most of my wits, It burned hot inside me, wanting and needing to be fed. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t stop myself. I remember thinking this must be what heroin addicts feel like. Nothing else existed; just that burning need.
We, the Thing and I, left my tiny apartment and went to a nearby bar. The somewhat popular spot could supply plenty of what we needed; emotion. The burn eased slightly just by walking in the door. It could feel the current of emotion roiling through the room. Alcohol tends to intensify human passions.
I sauntered my way up to the bar and perched on a stool. I ordered red wine, but I didn’t drink it. I swirled it around, and surveyed the others around me. I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for, but the stranger inside me did. It did not so much see through my eyes as feel through my senses. When I felt the familiar tingle of attraction, a clean cut looking young man with dark eyes, the thing inside me nearly danced. I still didn’t understand the significance. I only knew that it felt better. I smiled at the young man and he came over, like bees to honey; too easy.
I played the “I don’t normally pick up guys at a bar, but don’t you feel this unusual attraction?” card. He fell for it.
“Do you want to get some fresh air?” he asked.
“Yes, let’s go for a walk.” We walked down the street, holding hands. I really liked him. He was cute and funny. Unknowingly, I steered him towards a more secluded area. Or did he steer me? It didn’t matter. We were alone and he kissed me. The Thing felt like Mexican jumping beans inside me. It came forward in my head, filling me with darkness, like motor oil had been spilled over my brain.
The young man pulled back and I could see fear in his eyes. I wanted to let him go, but I no longer had control. I felt my fingers digging into his shoulders. The thing started feeding on his passion, but continued to feed on his fear. A shadow swarmed out from me and surrounded both of us. I could feel the pull of emotion from my victim and into the Beast; passion, anger, and fear swirled around in a palatable soup. The emotion sucked into my mouth and down my throat like cool water extinguishing a campfire. The man tried to pull away for a second, but then sank down to the ground. The inky cloud pulled back into me, sated. My mind cleared.
I stood up and backed away from the man. He wasn’t dead, but he was certainly comatose. I pulled out my cell phone and called emergency services for an ambulance. If he died, how could I live with myself? I told the authorities as much of the truth as I could. Then, I got the hell out of town.
Terrified, I ran. As if running could help me. I left a trail of comatose victims behind me. I think a few of them died. The Thing grew stronger and took over more and m
ore. I had to stop being afraid and fight back. I had to find a way to control it.
I thought I finally managed to get the thing to feed without hurting, but it didn’t care much for that. I started blacking out completely when it took control. Finally, I decided I only had one choice. I had to find someone that I could trust to lock me in that cave. I had to put this thing back.
I went to Hope’s family home. They were still mourning her loss. They had no closure. I never gave them a good answer about what happened. It didn’t make sense to them. I had to explain it to them now and get them to help me. They were the only ones I could trust. I booked a fight to their hometown, and prayed that the Thing wouldn’t rise up on the plane.
When I arrived, they agreed to see me the next day. I took a rental from the airport and drove out. I booked a hotel room and visited a nearby bar. I let the Thing feed vigorously to protect Hope’s family. I didn’t know what else to do.
The next morning, we gathered around the living room. Feeling relatively safe, I started explaining. “You have to believe me. You have to help me.” They were stunned. But as I finished up and told them what I planned, I could feel their emotions swirling around the room. I could feel the Thing stirring. I couldn’t subject them to the monster. I ran from the house.
Alone, I gained control over the Thing. Hope’s family would have to be able to control their emotions if they were going to help me; if they could help me. They probably would not want even to speak to me.
I went back to my hotel room and cried into the pillow. I wondered what would happen if I killed myself. The Thing would be loose and able to kill or find another host. I had to take responsibility. I wondered if it knew what I was planning. I started running through the list of people I knew that could be potential helpers, when someone knocked at the door.
I opened the door to find Hope’s sister, Delaney, standing there with a determined look on her face. “Are you safe?” she asked.
I nodded and let her in.
She looked around the room and tossed her leather purse on the table, then turned and looked at me. “I know you would have protected her if you could and I know you want to protect, like, everyone, now. I can’t have this thing killing anyone else either, you know?”
“Yes, that’s why I came to your family for help.”
She nodded. “Okay. I’m going to help you. When do we go?”
“Now?”
“Let’s go.” I didn’t know if she really could do this at first, but the determination on her face made me want to believe. I had to believe.
We bought a new flashlight much like the one Steve had brought with us on that fatal day, and a crow bar. I wanted her to take a sledgehammer as well, just in case, but she wouldn’t have been able to use it.
We drove out to the Bad Lands and prepared to climb down into the cave. In the back of my mind, I was concerned for Delaney. She was so young. I knew she could do this, if everything went as planned. But, what if this thing had a surprise for us? I couldn’t get hung up on the “what if’s” though. This had to be done, no matter the cost.
We descended into the darkness of the cave and came to the dead end, and an empty wall. A small fissure ran from floor to ceiling, and if you turned sideways, you could squeeze into the wall. The doors that had been there before no longer existed. Delaney looked at me with doubt. “I thought you said there were doors?”
“Uh-huh, there were.”
“Not now?”
I looked at her and shrugged, and then shined the light into the fissure. The saloon-like doors had disappeared, but there was a large hollow big enough to have held a saloon. “Come on,” I said as we slipped in. “Do you think you’ll be able to find this to get out by yourself?” I asked her.
“I’ll have to.”
I shined the light around. No balcony, no stairs, no piano, no bar, no broken glass on the floor. “This isn’t at all like you said, Summer.” I could feel her doubt, palpable on my skin.
“This thing inside me is a vampire. Don’t tempt it with emotion.” I swallowed back my own fear.
Delaney took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m just saying.”
“I know.” I did know. I didn’t understand it all myself.
I walked over to where the bar had been. My hiking boots crunched, but when I shined my light on the ground, it was pebbles I stepped on, not glass. I followed the wall around to where the door to the storage room should have been, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Delaney,” I called out, beckoning to her with my free arm. I pointed the flashlight on the door. It stood open and the bar unlatched. “This is it.”
“Thank God,” she whispered, then caught herself.
“No, you’re right.” I nodded. “I’m going in. Make sure I’m in and bar the door. Then, get the hell out of here and don’t look back.”
Delaney nodded. Her fear slowly started to rise and I could taste it like cotton candy on my tongue. I swallowed hard and ignored it. I knew I had to get in before the Thing could take over, but I couldn’t move. I felt It sliding uncomfortably around under my skin.
“Go, Summer. Do it.” Delaney said forcefully.
I felt the Thing trying to come up and out, and I screamed. A horrible screeching sound ripped out of my throat. “No! Run, Delaney! Get out!”
“No. You can’t do this.” She kicked my leg hard and I fell. Relief swelled up in me. She could do this. Behind that relief, a lava flow of fear slowly began to boil up. I did not own that volcano that threatened. I knew the Thing did not intend to go back in the hole.
A vision flashed before my eyes: the saloon as it had been, filled with people, and the shadow trapped in the hole. The owners of the saloon shoved people in and barred the door. Letting the shadow-vampire kill them all one by one. It learned to adapt as It searched for a host. The pattern repeated for many years, until finally the victims stopped coming.
I started crawling towards the room. Delaney came behind and started shoving me in. The flashlight lay beside me on the floor, glaring upwards, so that Delaney could see inside the room. The Thing began radiating anger as it swirled around in my head, threatening to suck me under like a mad vortex of emotion. I pulled my body forward with my hands across the stony floor. It pulled up and out of me. In a second, I felt myself jerked backward.
“It’s out,” Delaney screamed. “Tell me it’s out.”
I checked myself. I was free of it. She trapped it in the room. I looked at the barred door. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
We made for the entrance. The fissure should have been there. I searched for it. We couldn’t find it.
“Summer, what’s going on? You said to trap it.”
“No, I said to trap us, without me holding it in... I don’t know.”
A loud bang turned us around. The door stood open. “I don’t think I can do this,” I said. “I’m sorry, Delaney. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
Delaney turned me around to look at her and shook my shoulders. “Listen. You are the strongest person I’ve ever known. Hope loved you like a sister because you always had the strength to do what was right, no matter what. Don’t stop now. You owe her.”
I nodded. She was right. I had to take control. I couldn’t expect anyone else to take this responsibility. I owned this, and I knew what I had to do. I stepped into the room and stood over the hole. “All right. Come on,” I told it.
Slowly, it rose out of the hole like a viper and wrapped lovingly around me, happy and content.
“It’s back, Summer. Oh my God, the opening is back,” she called. I knew it would be. The Thing had never really been trapped down here in the first place. It controlled this place. It used it to lure enough people down so that it could find its host. Something happened along the way and the people stopped coming. So, it waited. Then it found me.
Now I’m a different kind of vampire. I just have to deal with it.
DARK COMFORT:
A Modified Excerpt from "Mining The
Dark"
THE MOUNTAIN STATE VAMPIRE SERIES
By
J.B. Stilwell
“Can you give a little more help? I thought vampires were supposed to have uber-strength or something.”
As soon as I say it, Rick quickly lifts the entire recliner, almost pulling it out of my hands.
“Thanks,” I grumble.
“My pleasure,” he responds.
Not exactly my idea of a great way to spend a Saturday night – moving my remaining stuff out of my mom’s large storage shed. Before working on the Federal Office of Human and Vampire Administration project, I didn’t intend on moving to Rowan, West Virginia. Many of my possessions have been sitting in Huntington, gathering dust. It will be nice to be surrounded by my own things again. My new apartment will actually feel like home. Thankfully, my project partner and now co-worker, Dr. Rick Allstedt, graciously offered to help with the move. It’s even nicer that he’s a vampire and can carry heavier loads. Just sucks that we have to do all of this work after the sun goes down. I guess it could be worse. The sun could be blazing in the winter sky and my clothes could be wet with cold sweat. Oh, and Rick would be a pile of gelatinous muck. So, yeah, this is better.
We lift the recliner into the back of the moving van and return to the shed for the boxes of smaller items. My mom steps outside from the back of her house. Ambling toward us, she says, “Do y’all want some lemonade?”
I look at Rick and smile.
“Thanks, Mrs. Burcham. Lemonade would be nice,” Rick says.
My mouth drops open as my mom walks back to the house. “I thought you didn’t need to drink human stuff?” I ask.
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