In The Depths: A Novel (DeSai Trilogy) Vampire legends

by RWK Clark

  DeSai

  In The Depths

  by

  R.W.K. Clark

  Copyright © 2015, 2016 R.W.K. Clark

  All rights reserved, www.rwkc.us

  This is work of fiction, all names, characters, locales, and incidents are product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual people places or events is coincidental or fictionalized.

  Published in the United States by Clarkinc.

  Printed and distributed by

  Amazon Digital Services LLC

  Edition 1.2 Last Updated 12-19-2016

  United States Copyright Office

  #1-3449260753

  International Standard Book Numbers

  ISBN-10: 0692721932

  ISBN-13: 978-0692721933

  ASIN: B01GD7CPBA

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I dedicate this novel to my wonderful readers and for all the amazing people I’ve met and those I haven’t. To my family and loved ones, all your support will not be forgotten.

  Thank you

  Prologue

  Since the beginning of time there have been vampires, and there have been witches. They heard of each other, but they never crossed the path of the other. They never sought to meet, and they never tried to discover what could happen if they joined together the unique powers that they had; they respected the boundaries of the natural order, the order set down since the foundation of the world.

  Over time, curiosity got the best of the witches. With each passing generation the evil and greed for power that filled their hearts made them begin to wonder, did vampires exist? If they did, could they be captured and possessed? Could they be contained by the female species of the order and used to their advantage?

  The hearts of women have always been evil; it is for this reason that Satan himself approached Eve first in the Garden of Eden. She could control the man, and it was the man Satan needed to deceive. Without her there was no hope.

  Chapter 1

  1796 Honduras

  Manuel Jasso sat rigidly, the fire before him, and those fires burning all around him, burning large and bright. It was his watch on this sweltering night, and though the night was still and peaceful, he maintained rapt attention, his head jerking toward even the slightest of sounds. The men around him slept peacefully; how he wished he were one of them or that they did not need to be here at all. Alas, this was not so.

  He kept his eyes straining in the darkness as he uncapped his canteen. He brought it to his lips and took a small sip, enjoying just enough of the water inside to wet his tongue and appease his thirst for a moment. He recapped it and let it fall back to its place against his chest, hanging from the worn leather strap around his neck.

  It was unusually hot tonight, hotter than he could ever remember in all of his 36 years. It was a heat that sat on the surface of the skin and soaked through the skin. He wondered fleetingly if it were an omen, if it meant the one they hunted was nearby. It was always hotter when the beast was in one’s midst.

  The monster must be captured, must be stopped. Last year alone forty women and seventeen men had gone missing from Olanchito, and only last week they had received word that the recently established village of La Ceiba had begun to have the same nightmare. The council knew what was happening and who was doing the bidding: the man and his victims themselves. There was but one way to stop it, and that was to capture and destroy the man who had started it all.

  They only knew him as Comte DeSai. He had settled in a massive abandoned homestead five years ago outside Olanchito, and initially his presence was construed by the townspeople as a blessing. He was active in doing good for the town, and he became a regular face at council meetings and town gatherings. He began a vineyard, and ventured to make fine wines, and the wine was very good by all accounts. He had brought some of the very best of his wares with him when he came, and shared it willingly. Perhaps Olanchito would prosper, after all.

  But then the head councilman’s wife had gone missing. DeSai himself headed the search party, which was still active to this day, even though the woman they searched for no longer existed; she was now a shell of her former self, a beast like DeSai. Now they sought many more people who walked out their doors, never to be seen again. By the time the town realized what was happening and that DeSai himself was to blame for the disappearances, it was too late. He took to hiding, and they still had no idea where his sanctuary was. People continued to disappear, families were torn apart, and Manuel’s men continued to hunt, not only for DeSai, but for each of his victims who had become like him: bloodsucking monsters.

  With one hand Jasso began to roll tobacco into a wrap for smoking, taking the aromatic shredded leaves from a pouch at his side. A twig snapped loudly behind him and, startled, he dropped the wrap filled with tobacco to the ground. Instinctively he reached out to his right and grabbed the crude torch burning in a wooden holder. He held it out in front of him with his right hand and positioned his rifle firmly with his left. He swung the torch to get a look at what could have made the noise. Nothing was there.

  He decided to walk the perimeter of the camp, and began making a round. His mind went to his wife, Danna, as he walked. How beautiful she had been, how gentle and kind. She had gone missing shortly after the first man; she had been one of the first to go. While he was sure she was still living, he knew she was no longer what she had once been, and this truth infuriated him to a murderous level.

  They all discovered the truth about DeSai when one of the villagers observed him by the small pond outside of town. He was not alone; he was seen making love to the head councilman’s wife, and she had been missing for months. This was immediately reported, and the ensuing investigation revealed that he had holed up all of the missing people in his home, and not only that, but they stayed of their own free will. Soon, one of the men that had disappeared was seen luring a teen-aged girl to the outskirts of the village, and when the blacksmith attempted to intervene the girl was grabbed by him, and the man… took flight… with her in his arms.

  Then they understood, and the specific hunt for Comte DeSai began. In the process they began to find some of their missing loved ones, one at a time, and it became very clear that they were not the same. They were angry, evil, and violent. They would fight to remain under DeSai’s roof, and under his control. Soon it was obvious: the monster intended to enslave the entire village, one person at a time. Jasso and his team of hunters would kill anyone who was one of DeSai’s minions, regardless of who they had been in their previous life.

  But it would never stop until they captured and killed DeSai himself.

  All was clear around the camp, and Jasso returned to his post, replacing the torch in its holder. He exhaled and took his spot, eyes and ears alert with refreshed anger and grief from the thinking he had been doing. While he watched he managed to roll a smoke and get it lit up. He took a long pull off the satisfying tobacco, and felt his shoulders relax.

  Wood snapped again behind him, but this time it was a much larger piece, and it emitted a loud ‘crack!’ rather than a snap. He jumped violently and swung around to face the direction which the noise came from. Someone, or something, was certainly out there, and he could feel its eyes boring into him.

  “Who’s there? Identify yourself immediately! I am armed!” Jasso strained to see in the darkness.

  In front of him, from not more than ten feet, a calm, whispering, evil voice cut through the darkness.

  “Manuel Jasso…”

  Now he was more alert than ever. “Men, wake! DeSai is here!”

  He heard the stirring of his men, their voices fill
ed with anxiety as they pulled themselves from their slumber. “Where? Have you seen him?” Their sounds were overlapping and jumbled, and Manuel was not interested in responding. He took a step toward the voice.

  “Show yourself!”

  Suddenly something struck him in the side of the head with great force, knocking him to the side. He stumbled, but he did not fall. Jasso was a strong, lumbering man. He shook it off and began to look around him wildly.

  There was nothing.

  His men had taken up their arms and were beginning to mill about now. “Did you see that? Something hit Manuel! It is DeSai! He is here!” Torches were taken and the men began searching in and around the campsite with great fervor. Jasso remained calm in his fury. He looked around carefully.

  They would take the beast down this night, he would see to it.

  The area around the campsite began to light up from the torches the men carried, but nothing could be seen except the clearing and the trees surrounding it. Suddenly one of the men screamed, and all heads jerked in his direction.

  There stood DeSai. He held one of the men by the throat, and he had the large man up off the ground by a good eight inches. The Comte’s long black hair, which was usually slicked back and gathered into a striking tail which hung down his back, was now unkempt. Running from these men had taken a toll on the man, but the look in his eyes contradicted this observation. They were rimmed with redness, and his mouth was a violent gash across his face which formed a dark smile. He was enjoying this; to him it was not a hunt, it was a game.

  Jasso started toward the once respected animal, but stopped dead when he became aware that the man DeSai was holding was struggling for his life. The Comte had begun squeezing tighter, and the hunter could not breathe. Even in the dark Jasso could see the color of his flesh taking on a deep shade of purple.

  “Release him, DeSai! We want you; do not make this more difficult that it has to be. We will be victorious.” Jasso kept his voice calm and steady; he would not appear afraid to this demon. It would only fuel him.

  Comte Cyril DeSai chuckled and continued to squeeze. “This has been very entertaining for me, Manuel, but so has your beautiful wife. My, my, my, what a catch she has turned out to be!” He threw his head back and began to laugh with all his might, his hair blowing around his head in the wind.

  Jasso did not even have to waste a second on thought. In the blink of an eye he dropped his rifle and reached over his shoulder for an arrow to put on the bow he carried on his left side. In one deft movement he loaded the arrow, raised it, and shot, all while DeSai indulged himself in his self-satisfied laughter.

  The arrow struck him in the right side of his chest, its metal head piercing clean through him and coming out his back before stopping while still in his body. The Comte immediately dropped the gasping, sputtering hunter he had held by the neck, and he looked down at the arrow, surprise spreading over his face. He then looked up at Jasso.

  “Ah, it seems I was not ready for you, Manuel…”

  He bolted into the darkness in the direction opposite the forest and the trees. Manuel and his men did not hesitate; they began to run after him immediately. Jasso was reloading his bow as he ran, his rifle and the injured man forgotten behind him. As he ran his thoughts went to the direction in which they were running; there was a cliff ahead, maybe seventy-five or one-hundred yards in front of them. He wanted to catch him and kill the monster with his bare hands first. He knew the Comte could fly, and he wanted to give him no chance to do this.

  Suddenly the cliff came into view, and the sound of roaring ocean waters below grew very loud indeed. Jasso and his men realized that Comte DeSai had not only stopped, he had bent over, his hands on his knees, and he was gasping for breath with great effort. The Comte was hurt; he was actually hurt somehow.

  Manuel spoke. “So, you will do the noble thing and give yourself up, yes? You will see err in what you have done and are doing? Or have I simply hindered your ability to fly away, evil bird?”

  DeSai looked up at him, and still gasping, smiled. “There is no err in my ways; my ways are altogether perfect. What you construe as madness is truly the formation of my perfect kingdom…” His voice trailed off and he took a step back, nearing the cliff’s edge.

  Manuel stepped toward him with the thought of getting to him quickly. The Comte’s reply had done nothing but confirm his inability to fly off, even though he admitted nothing. He would have flown by now if he could.

  Suddenly DeSai stood erect and raised both of his arms straight out, as though he might take flight. Manuel rushed toward the man, reaching out to grab him when he was near enough. He nearly took hold of the Comte’s lapel, but his fingers simply brushed the fabric. DeSai did not take flight. He fell backward off the cliff, eyes closed, ecstasy across his face. Jasso had to struggle with his balance to keep himself from going over. The other hunters were at his side in seconds, and together they watched as Comte Cyril DeSai plummeted into the murky, tumultuous depths below.

  Chapter 2

  Present Day

  “Abby, you have to check out the ocean! I don’t think I have ever seen anything so blue in my life.” Patrick Gilliam turned slightly toward the slight blonde woman sitting next to him, his girlfriend, Abigail. He knew his suggestion for her to lean over him and look out the airplane window would go ignored, and that with great disgust. Abby was terrified of heights, and he liked to goad her into frustration. She was very cute when she was angry.

  “Go screw yourself, Pat,” she replied, crinkling her nose at him, but with playful eyes. She reached over and tousled his shaggy red hair before leaning her head back against the headrest on her seat and closing her eyes. Even imagining the ground below was enough to incite nausea in her stomach and vertigo before her eyes.

  Across the aisle sat their two companions, another pair of young lovers who loved to travel and Scuba dive when they weren’t working. Abby shook off the fleeting sickness like a hot blanket and looked to the girl on her left.

  “Candy, do you have any of those peanuts left? I think my stomach needs something solid to settle it.” She gave Pat a slight elbow with the word ‘settle’, just to drive the point home. He smiled and continued to gaze out the window at the clouds.

  Candace and her boyfriend Tim both began to rustle around in their seats and on their laps, both knowing how Abby could get in the air. They were also very familiar with Patrick’s incessant teasing of his chosen one, and Candy had taken to stashing something extra just for this purpose.

  “Did you get your hands on those peanuts, Tim?” Tim Howell, who was still fumbling around for sustenance to give Abby dropped his hands into his lap and looked at Candace Fredericks sheepishly, replying, “I did…”

  Candy shook her head and leaned to the right to get a clear view of the aisle. “The flight attendant is coming this way, but it will be about twenty minutes from the looks of it. Do you want me to go get some from her, Abby?”

  Abigail Cayce shook her head and offered up a weak smile. “Don’t worry about it. I think I can hold out for that long.” She leaned back and closed her eyes again, and Candy followed suit.

  Tim turned to Candace. “Why don’t you and Pat switch seats, Candace? I’m all wound, and if all you’re going to do is snooze that’s fine, but why make me sit here and twiddle my thumbs?”

  “You know as well as I do that Pat will never give up a window seat to sit on the elbow-bumping aisle, Tim.” She shook her head, keeping her fond gaze on his chiseled features. She loved to Scuba dive, but she knew exactly why she was looking forward to landing, and it had nothing to do with the water, at least not initially.

  “I’ll give him mine and I’ll sit on the aisle then,” he replied. He leaned over Candy. “Pat, come sit over here so these two sleepyheads can rest. You can have my seat if you insist on the window, dude, but I can’t handle having no one to talk to.”

  Pat’s eyes lit up; he was as bored with their travel partners as Tim. “Sure, man!
Come on Candy, switch up.” Pat was on his feet before he had even completed his sentence, and Abby was turning her knees out to allow him easy passage without even opening her eyes.

  The two gathered their respective possessions and swapped seats. By the time they were settled in Candy was pretty riled up and wide awake once again. The flight attendant had made progress to the tune of four sets of seats; she would stay awake to restock on peanuts and get herself a cold can of beer.

  “Abby, when the attendant comes do you want a drink also? Might as well fuel up on something; we have another three hours or so to go.” Candy kept her eyes on her friend, who looked a bit pale. How could she do this to herself time and time again? Well, she understood, really. There was nothing in the world like a Scuba diving venture.

  Abigail opened one eye and turned her head slightly toward Candy. “Just peanuts and a bottle of water, thanks. If I have a drink I’ll puke for sure. Can I use your sleeping mask? Between the light and my slight headache I just want to sleep. I don’t want to deal with anything.”

  Candy fetched the item from her lap and put it on Abby herself. Then she got out her tablet and began to fiddle around with it to occupy her time. It never took long to get to their Scuba trips, but it was best to occupy one’s time fully. She could hardly wait to get there. They would be diving in an area which was new to all of them, right off the coast of La Ceiba, Honduras. She had planned the trip herself, and had done extensive research into the area’s diving. It promised to be an experience none of them would soon forget.

  Across the aisle the guys had swapped out their seats quickly and efficiently, and Pat was already glued to the window, staring at the skyline. “Don’t tell me I still don’t have anyone to talk to, bud,” Tim said to the back of his head. “If that was the case I could have kept Candy over here; she smells a lot better than you do.”