The Vampire Touch 2: Into the Uknown

by Sarah J. Stone

  I check the time, and I have one minute to spare. I pull my phone from my pocket. I have given all the wolves clear instructions that they must have their phones ready for when I call. I conference them, and each one answers immediately.

  “Good,” I acknowledge their listening to my orders.

  “Now, on my command, we will detonate.”

  They all reply with their various forms of ‘yes.’ I pull out a second phone. A message comes through.

  The vampires have attacked from the home. We moved in and pulled back. We left the note where you said we must. A human collected it a moment ago. He’s heading back to the castle now. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to get back and the letter to Daffyd’s hand. Time to strike is now.

  Good, I reply.

  “Detonate now,” I say over the phone. We are too far out to hear the explosions from the various support tunnels. I find it a tad upsetting. Not hearing the explosions of a plan coming together. I say nothing and instead pull my own trigger, watching the earth in the distance sink in, with trees and rocks and rubble all exploding into the air in a beautiful wave of disaster.

  “Your part of the plan is done,” I speak to all the parties. “Either join your brothers in the battle where they will now start their fight, or make your way home. We will all convene together shortly.”

  I end the call and begin my journey back to Romulus. By the time I arrive, he will already be in battle. If I get there soon enough, I will be able to join. Something tells me that they will not be in battle for too long. None of them. The vampires are weak now. They have no daylight travel between their major stronghold and their citadel.

  The day consumes the night in glorious battle.

  Chapter Thirty: Daffyd

  Explosions ring out through the morning air. There’s a sense of confusion among the vampire ranks, and I can’t give them the one simple answer as to what is happening. Torrine Castle is the connecting point between many of our smaller holds. A network of tunnels that branch out from the Veil all the way to the outskirts of what is considered my land. Four cave systems that have for years been my method of travel. How the wolves found out that this was the castle for that, I don’t know. If they even knew that that was what I was using it for, but at the rate that the tunnels rumbled and echoed, I can’t believe that this isn’t the way they went about their business. Tricking us into believing they were striking here when in turn they began their strike somewhere else.

  “Sir, what’s going on?” Hamish shouts in the rumblings.

  “I don’t know,” the only reply I can spit out. Not something to do. Not among our kind and especially not in such a troubling time. Then it comes to me. A letter, presented by one of the humans that want so badly to become a sireling. They are proving their worth, and their worth is to do the errands we cannot during the day.

  My focus is now on the letter.

  “Where did you get this?” A model looking man. One that, if I can recall, only wants to join the ranks of the vampires to impress a girl. A girl that he heard was only interested in our kind since we surfaced. Handsome, he could have had any woman he wanted, if only he lost some weight and a few other notable issues.

  “It was outside. Left by the wolves after a few ranged attacks.

  “Why didn’t you bring it faster?” I roar. I know why. He couldn’t run as fast as we can. They must have left it close enough to reach without danger, but far enough so that it would take him some time to get there.

  “I couldn’t get here any quicker.” I believe him. The grunting and gasping for air. He must have put all the effort he could in to bringing this letter back. He will be rewarded greatly for putting his life in danger for a simple letter. For all we know, it could have been a dud to lead out future prospects.

  “Right.” I nod. Handing the letter to Hamish, I find myself a seat anywhere I can. An old, wooden one will do. Where we stand, there is not much space for any newcomers. The room itself is already densely packed with vampires as is. The entire castle is.

  What a curse not walking in daylight truly is.

  Hamish goes over the letter once alone. He reads each and every word. I can see that as he goes on, his expression turns to dismay and disbelief.

  “So, tell me, how did they find a way to tarnish our plans this time, Hamish?” I ask when I’m sure he’s finished reading.

  He doesn’t speak directly about the letter, reading it instead to answer my question:

  To a washed-up fool:

  If you think it’s a wolf that will put what I’m about to say so eloquently, then you are mistaken.

  Hello, Daffyd.

  I find these opening lines intriguing.

  You may not know me. But I know you. You’re a thief.

  You found a piece of land that was seemingly empty and built your empire on it. This land, the pathetically named Veil, was not yours and is not yours to continue holding claim over.

  Now, I understand it’s rather difficult to up and move ship, and thus I am not going to ask that of you.

  Rather than being so close minded, I’m going to leave you here. Under a few conditions, of course. Each one will be met in order, or you will have a far greater hell breathing down on you than a few wolves.

  You must be wondering who has you by the balls.

  You can call me the Devil.

  I gesture that Hamish brings me the letter. He shows me where he read up to and then steps back. I turn to the prospect. “You should leave now, human. You may not last the day if you stay around me. Take the day off. Visit your family. Stalk your girl. I don’t really care. Just go.”

  The letter itself is beautiful, as if the writer had taken calligraphy at some point in his life. The artwork with each precise stroke is outstanding. Rereading the words that Hamish already spoke only has a greater fire begin burning in me:

  A simple name for a simple man. Wouldn’t you agree that simplicity is key to an easy existence?

  Not that the vampires know anything about simplicity. You are all about the spectacular show. If not for yourself, the people. If not for the people, your enemies. If not for the enemies, the gods. If not for the gods? Well, then you’ve run out.

  That’s what this war is really about, isn’t it? A spectacular show.

  A show of what? Power. Glory.

  It doesn’t really matter.

  That’s where I come in. I’m here to show you that your shows of power mean nothing. You will bow before me, Daffyd, or you will regret every decision you have made in your underwhelming existence.

  I will be in touch shortly regarding the demands I mentioned.

  For now, I bet you’re wondering what those explosions were.

  I would suggest sending scouts down the river to find out what you already know.

  Demand one: Torrine Castle will be evacuated post haste. The longer you take, the more suffering you will endure.

  Your network will shatter. You will return to traveling by night, as will your kind. Until then, more tunnels will be destroyed. I will have a signed treaty of Torrine in the hands of the alpha wolf, Romulus, within a week, or I will plot my next strike.

  If you think I’m joking, feel free to test me.

  Signed,

  The Devil.

  “What are you waiting for?” I shout at Hamish. “You read the letter. Why have you not sent scouts down the tunnels?”

  Finishing my sentence, Hamish is already halfway out the door giving the order. If it’s true, if the tunnels have been cut off, and my traveling route to Torrine is gone. Perhaps foolish to link one single castle to the Veil. I should have branched out, but even so, to figure out that this was the connection between the Veil and the outside world would have taken years of scheming or a miracle. Everyone who worked on this project was killed by the end of it.

  I wait patiently. Half an hour goes by, and Hamish comes back into the room.

  “Sir, it’s true. The link between the Veil, the south, north, and we
st are all gone.”

  “What’s in the east?”

  “The resting grounds for the Torrine.”

  “Leave then, Hamish. It’s early morning, and there’s nothing we can do. Today, many deaths are on my hands.” I begin rubbing my temples.

  What a disaster...

  Chapter Thirty-One: Romulus

  It’s a peculiar sound, an explosion out in the distance. The movies overhype it with a raucous, thunderous applause from on high. In reality, it’s different. It’s subtle. It sounds like dropping a heavy hammer on a stone floor. If you’re close enough, you can feel the vibration beneath your feet. The leaves ruffling from the shockwave the explosion brings. You can hear the Earth crying. It’s gritty. It’s dirty.

  Life can be summed up next to an explosion. On one end of the spectrum, the movie side that is, you are dazzled in disbelief. In reality, you suffer for your outcome. You are not gifted in any way, shape, or form. You are not special. You are simply just another cog in the machine. It sustains you, not the other way around. For we are replaceable. The machine forever turns.

  The thoughts that run through my mind aren’t necessarily all that important. They are just the ramblings of a man on the verge of death. Preparing. Waiting. Hoping. For there is nothing to compare this life to but pain underneath the weight of a lost family.

  A dead family.

  One that once walked the earth. And I know that seething in anger over their loss will only bring more heartache, but how do you push past the pain you suffer when the wounds eternally stare you in the face? When those who killed them still live?

  There’s another movie there somewhere. One that’s been written a thousand times before. An action-drama picture that is created to inspire the primal aggression my kind faces.

  How did I get so philosophical from an explosion?

  That’s right.

  An explosion is what created us. Should we not find the beauty between the lines? The inner sanctum, where the explosive elements reach their critical point before setting off in beautiful chaos.

  I find it prolific. A pivotal point in civilization, and one that is lost to us. Not all of us, only most. Where I find the beauty, others will not. They will only see the corruption the explosion brings. The cancer in its bite.

  These men, my men, they don’t see it the same way as I do. The rumbling Earth only fuels their rage. It calls into their primal nature. Something that they should have no issue tapping into themselves. They should have been this prepared before.

  Calculated in their rage.

  This is me. A calculated mass of incredible controversy.

  They move in what seems like slow motion. Their bodies go, their voices roar out as they turn to the change, and I watch as wolves dance gloriously in the morning sunlight toward a camp of new vampires. They are lambs to the slaughter, the vampires. Unsuspecting, without a clue that we are going to reign down upon them in an attack of grand proportion.

  “Sir!” A hand grabs me by the shoulder and shatters the world of philosophy I’ve lost myself in. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes,” I reply, “get going. I am behind my men. Today, you prove your worth.” This is more or less true. My heart is not in this battle. The last time there was outside intervention in my pack, I found myself at a great victory and a triumphant loss. What’s different this time? A tactician who claims the wolves’ best interests at heart?

  No. It’s a man who has his own gain at heart, who waits for us to do his dirty work.

  What does he have to gain from a man who has nothing?

  Still, I run out. My steps are strong and fierce as I spring into the air. My change comes quickly and with its bumps, however. One single hiccup in my shift makes me lose my footing, and I stumble. Maybe that’s why I wanted them on the foreground. They would not see their alpha stumble.

  This doesn’t bode well for the day. By the time I arrive at the door, it’s already broken down, as well as the windows around it. The wolves were eager to please.

  Entering the building, I see the havoc they have brought. Many of the vampires they struck are wounded, missing limbs, but still, they writhe in agony. I can see it in their eyes. They are waiting, begging for death. This is the only fate they deserve. I hear the roars and screams echoing through the building as I continue the work my vampires have begun. Each one I find that squirms, I present the true death they desire.

  They are sirelings, or so I hear. Many of them will not have faced a near-death experience. They wouldn’t know that on this night, they would rest. Heal.

  And with blood and the well-needed break, they would be just fine.

  This will not do…The only thoughts that cross my mind as I place a massive paw atop one of their heads and press down. It crumbles beneath the weight. One last scream, terrified of what is to come, and they are dead.

  I continue along my path, making my way in between the rooms where they are squirming. Ending them one by one. Something smells off. I can smell the stench of death, but the particular odor a living vampire holds is far different than the one a truly dead one wears.

  I growl, for I cannot speak. The raiding party missed one vampire in this particular room. He or she will not go unpunished. I begin my search. My search ends as a child steps out of a cupboard. She can’t be much older than my Abbey.

  I don’t think. I just act.

  Her throat tears like paper between my teeth. A casualty of a war that was not her doing. Why she had to suffer for her predecessor’s crimes, I cannot justify. For all I know, she could have been older than I.

  This is the risk you run, dealing with this particular brand of the supernatural community.

  It’s not long after this that I find myself in a room with the rest of my pack. A wide, open cavern beneath the ground where the vampires have all huddled together. A group of what can’t be more than twenty. My wolves have circled them. The low grumbles and loud growls from the one who wants to prove himself the greatest to their alpha all ring out.

  The vampires hiss. They know that they have no chance. If they run down the tunnel, the only success they will face is prolonging their lives, those few minutes more.

  They’ve already tried it, too.

  You can tell. After all, they are back now, trying to find a different means of escape. One that they will not. They stand no chance against my kind. Not like this.

  Then the first strike begins. A vampire hisses loudly before dashing forward. The wolf he chose to center runs out into him. A slash of the claw catches the wolf by the scruff of the neck, but his jaws have already locked around the vampire’s midsection. Now, it’s whoever stops fighting, loses first. The vampire’s claws are deadly. Had his neck been up, my wolf would be dead.

  The wolf keeps a clenched jaw around a vampire that continues to pelt him with strikes from with his claws, his neck jerking back and forth, trying to avert the strikes and replace them with a few of his own. This is followed up with one dangerous, yet powerful lift before hurdling the vampire’s head toward the ground.

  Much like the first one I killed, it explodes underneath the tremendous force.

  I watch as he dies. Then my focus returns to the rest of the battle. A wolf has died. The vampires celebrate their small victory as the rest of my pack circle them and begin tearing them to pieces. They stood no chance, but in the small victories, they still found some form of solace. They found peace in knowing they claimed one of ours.

  The war may not have been won, but the battle allowed them a place in the heaven.

  Why can’t it be so simple? We win this small victory and in the small victory, we claim a greater piece of the victory? No. We fight all or nothing in everything we do. It is the curse of my people. Our burden to bear.

  We are nothing more than puppets dangling on the strings to our nature.

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Victor

  Celebrating with wolves. Who would have ever thought this is how I’d be spending my time. Yet, I find gre
at enjoyment among their company. They are a warm, embracing people. Especially in times of celebration. Sadly, I had no chance to join the battle. The sirelings, as I predicted, stood no chance against the mighty wolfpack. They slaughtered each and every one. By the time I came to the pack’s aid, they were already clearing the bodies out into the open. Letting what remained of the vampires burn in glorious fire to send the message to the king.

  Not that I think mine wouldn’t be enough to inspire dread.

  “Romulus,” I shout from across the room. The crowd is loud. They all shout and scream and cheer and banter in good times. I find it fantastic.

  Romulus says nothing but waves me over. I take the offer and push through the crowd.

  “A man celebrating such a remarkable victory should not look so sour.” I grab a pitcher of whatever spiced wine they’re drinking and fill his cup. He takes a sip. He’s not into the night. Not the way the rest of us are. Even those the pack will scorn tomorrow, the ten too afraid to die, they are among these men.

  “Do you truly think not joining in the celebration will benefit you in any way? You may have taken the word from an outsider, but that word brought you to a victory. That victory will resonate with the king of the vampires. He will see things from our side now. You just have to be patient. Let him bring you Torrine. It’s written in the stars.”

  “You speak boldly. Too bold for my blood. Why would he simply hand out, what you say, is a large part of his domain?” I understand his concerns but will not linger in this terrible mood.

  “We are celebrating. Join us if you will. Sit here and seethe if you choose to.” I turn back into the crowd.

  It’s not long after the first glass of bourbon that I see one. A ghost? Maybe. This spectral apparition seems to be guiding me outside. I let it. Its shadow nature only taking a true form the moment we are alone. A boy in his late teens stands in front of me.

  “Yes?” I ask it.

  “They are coming to take you away,” he replies.

  “Who?”

  He remains silent.

  “What?”