The Vampire Touch 2: Into the Uknown

by Sarah J. Stone

  Chapter Forty: Daffyd

  Hello.

  I see you still haven’t done as I’ve requested, Daffyd. I’m not a man that enjoys being tried and tested, and I do believe you should begin the handover process of Torrine Castle to the werewolf leader, Romulus, very soon, or there may be some trouble.

  I will not be around for a while. Not sure how long.

  A day.

  A week.

  It doesn’t matter. Time is irrelevant in my case.

  Yours, too.

  So, one castle will have to go. I’ve already dictated the terms of the day trading being abolished. I will keep you where you belong, in the night. This way, I can keep that watchful eye over you.

  So, you’re going to do this by the time I return, or you will meet our force again. Our force? You might ask. Well, the wolves and me.

  I know you’ve gone to visit the council.

  You will give in to your wife and do as she discussed with you. Not because I tell you to, but because I know you. I know you through my army of the dead. Doesn’t that just inspire fear?

  Until we speak again...

  Who does he think he is? Coming in and ordering me around. Whoever he is, he’s got a chip on his shoulder too big for him to be walking around with, but at the same time, he communicates with the dead. That could be an issue, for the dead have ears and fingers in the pockets of every house and home.

  I guess there’s no other option but to do it.

  “Hamish,” I call for my man. He’s with me in seconds. “Draft up a treaty handing Torrine Castle over to the wolves. Have it in all formality as it possibly can be stated. They want a foothold? They should have fought for it. Whoever’s helping them is giving them a shell of a building without the trading routes leading out of it.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hamish agrees, and dashes off to do as he was told. No questions asked. He must understand that this is a good plan. I don’t even see why it’s a good plan, but Hamish is notoriously terrified of things he doesn’t quite understand. This man, he is definitely an enigma. So, to some extent, I don’t blame him. To another? He’s been my right hand for many a year now. He should have learned that under me, he will suffer no troubling times.

  Oh well, such is life. The weak survive, after all. It’s those who take bold strides in new directions that find themselves succumbing to the cold embrace of death.

  I wait alone. I have my answer for Brooke, but if I rush into it, I know there will be no end to it. There are a lot of things to consider on a matter as great as this.

  The council is powerful. Mason can kill them. These are known facts, but what I can’t work my head around is why Brooke is so eager to help me after all the years that she has been so against me…

  There is definitely ulterior motives that I don’t want to begin to consider.

  Then there is the handing over of Torrine Castle. Like I said, there is no benefit, but if we simply drop it, then a lot of vampires have now lost housing and everything they fought and died for. The north, south, east, and west just ruined.

  Then it dawns on me. They have not only cut us off from the rest of those under my direct command, but they have also neutralized any backup that may have been close enough to come. By land or by tunnel, that is.

  Smart.

  Very smart.

  These are matters I will need to discuss with Hamish shortly. We need to plan our way around this.

  When I finish contemplating these great issues, I make my way to Brooke who’s found herself in the library behind a book as she often is. I take a seat beside her, a glass of blood for each.

  “I have come to a decision on what I want to do with Mason and the council. If he is willing to do it and I will have no part of the payment, then there is nothing that will stop me from having the council removed so that we can bring in our own people. I don’t see why we shouldn’t, either. We are running this war; why can’t we completely dominate it without the intervention of a group of stuffy old men and women trying to run a dictatorship? Especially when that dictatorship should be the king’s place.”

  Her face lights up with glee at my final decision on the matter.

  “Then I will have the arrangements set up. Tomorrow, my love, your rule will be solidified as the one and only.”

  Chapter Forty-One: Brooke

  It must be a cruel joke. The fact that my plan has come together so beautifully that its right under his nose, and still he can’t smell the rat. Or maybe he does and he’s got his own safeguards in place, but for some reason, I am doubtful of this.

  A man driven by hubris, Daffyd would look no further than the offer of wealth and power provided to him. So, when I get to Ankh’s home, waiting for Mason so I can deliver the message, I feel the first of many small victories before the glory.

  I know they are in there. I can just tell. But I don’t go to the door. Nor do I rush them in any way. They are not doing this on purpose. They have their own things going on. Something to do with another girl going missing. Everyone’s got their noses in that puzzle.

  A short while goes by. The moon has risen high and the air has gotten crisp. That is when Mason steps from Ankh’s house. Delighted, more than anything else. I can’t imagine why.

  “Queen Brooke Llanneli,” he says calmly.

  “Mason,” I curtsey.

  “What brings you out this far from your castle in the hills?”

  “I have a job for you.”

  His smile is all I need to know that he knows what to do. I get back in the car. He tips his hat. The driver begins driving off.

  The start to a great plan.

  Chapter Forty-Three: Victor

  It’s a very big to do, a tribunal among the Forsaken. They all don their ceremonial clothing, the heads of each faction sitting on their separate thrones, seemingly taken out of the era they lived in. Crowds of their Forsaken brethren sitting in large stands. They all scream and shout for days that are gone. Their time is up, they just don’t know it yet.

  I stand dead center, bound by my magical chains holding me to my place. I can move my arms and legs, but they do not go anywhere. Not that I try to. They are accusing me of a crime I did commit. I won’t suffer through the terms of my sentence, of course, but that doesn’t mean I’m not interested in hearing exactly what they have to say and what they are going to try and punish me with.

  “You are a peculiar case,” Ra speaks. He is the one who brought me here and the one who is going to act as judge. The jury is there but I don’t believe there is such a thing as a fair trial if you get brought here. Once you’re here, you are simply listening and stating a case for a guilty conviction.

  “And why’s that?” I ask.

  “Because we know nothing about you. You are an enigma. A ghost. We have periods where you are in existence and others where you are not.”

  “And what crime is it to be a ghost? How can you give me a sentence for existing but not? Is that not precisely what you are? An existence without truly existing?” My reply might be a little over-complicated, but this is the nature of man.

  “This may be true, but you are not like us. We do not know you, what you can do, and there are no signs of you stopping what you do in any regard. You are too dangerous to walk the mortal realm. Only recently coming to understand what hides beneath the veil, they cannot be exposed to something that we have only come to understand exists. That and a true crime against our kind.”

  “And what crime is that?” I let him drone on. I don’t need to because I know where this is leading. It’s fun to watch a man walk around in circles. Circles, getting to a point I am certain he cannot prove.

  “The abduction and murder of a demigod.” The crowd gasps as if they didn’t know this already.

  “And where’s your proof, Ra?” I look up at him. He remains silent for a moment. One thing I have always been terribly good at is keeping my tracks covered. “I mean, I came here to stand trial, and now I’ve been bashed in front of the Forsake
n for crimes, and there is no proof or evidence being presented. One which says there was a strong power that no one understands, and you think you can point the finger at me? I don’t see where you get off thinking you have any power in my matters.”

  “The proof is simple. I can feel her pulsing out of you.” That is most definitely true. I did absorb her soul, after all. So, her radiating power may be coming out of me, but that means nothing.

  “You can feel her power radiating out of me? Well, isn’t that just marvelous? I can feel something radiating out of you, but it’s not power, Ra old boy. I do believe that is fear I sense. You all have limited power over everything. You have the power people give to you. You have no control over me because I will give you no power. To me, you are nothing but washed up fools that throw your weight around. You forget, without humanity needing a crutch, you would have never come into existence. A crutch for the weakest race there is. So, what does that really make you?”

  Ra says nothing in waiting for my response.

  “Weak. So yes, I killed your little semi goddess, and I sucked up her soul. You cannot prove it, but I am not afraid of what you have to offer. It is nowhere near as troubling as what I have seen or what I will see in the future.”

  This is the answer they wanted and didn’t want at the same time. They wanted the closure of the demigod, but since I am such an unknown variable to them, they are too afraid to come after me. Commanding power is simple: give the illusion that you are an almighty being.

  They claim to be.

  They never will be.

  I am not.

  But I can be…

  “Then by the elders of the Forsaken, you are sentenced, for your crimes against humanity and the gods, to spend the rest of your existence in the darkness. Your sentence is passed. Take him out of my sight.”

  The final words from a man who knows nothing.

  Chapter Forty-Three: Mason

  The last time I stood outside the council’s entrance, it was to show them my distaste into turning vampires into a ruled party. We are not creatures that are meant to be ruled by any means. No matter who they want to impress. No matter what they wanted to accomplish. They failed because vampires have no place being given restrictions.

  Doing this to a vampire does only one thing: fuels his thirst for power more than anything else. Daffyd wants to take the council. The leaders of the time zones want to take the kingship. Their lieutenants fight among themselves, and so on. A policing state that only brings dismay. Nothing more than criminal injustice and true hatred.

  It is why I do not conform to their ways. Never have I, nor will I.

  That is why I am going to enjoy this pointless slaughter of a system and foundation I truly can’t stand.

  Arriving at the entrance to the council buildings, the gatekeeper waits. I assume he’s not moved since Daffyd was last here. I can sense his power. I know he is strong. He has always been strong. They have to be, these vampires guarding the council. They need to make sure their petty empire doesn’t crumble beneath them.

  He welcomes me with a smile, “Ancient vampire Mason. What brings you to the council buildings?” I hold off on killing him for now. The path to the council is not hard to find, but I would prefer getting there without wasting any more time.

  “I am here to discuss my relinquishment of power and to join them as the new king,” I lie. A spark twinkles in the gatekeeper’s eye as he quickly begins leading me through the cavern.

  “That is not a decision you will regret, and with all of Daffyd’s most recent faults, they are in the process of finding a new king. Who better than the already known king of vampires?” I walk with him. He moves quickly. As if it were true, I go with him. He’s moving to make sure I don’t change my mind. I’m moving because I’ve got an itchy trigger finger.

  And as always, the moment I step out of the cavern, the eternal night that beautifully cascades over the garden comes into place.

  “I do have a question for you, gatekeeper.”

  “Yes, Ancient?”

  “Does the council choose when it rains? Or is it truly an eternal night that is washed over the gardens?” The gatekeeper turns around, facing me to answer my question, but he is met by the barrel of my newest arsenal addition. The black gun Ankh created for me. A piece of metal that serves a far greater purpose than that.

  “It never rains in paradise,” his answer, even though he knows this, is truly his last breath. He smiles, while my finger squeezes down on the trigger. The top half of his face is ripped from his head and still, he drops dead with the smile on his face.

  “Then I am glad you are never going to leave paradise,” I add, walking onward to the council building. The doorman waits, as the gatekeeper, in the same place he always is.

  “Ancient Vampire Mason. I see you’ve killed the gatekeeper,” he starts off with.

  “Yes. Are you not going to stop me?”

  “I do not believe there is a point. I can strike, you will kill me. If there is any give, would you not make me suffer before my death?” he asks. Wise men live here, it seems.

  “I would have, yes. I am glad you understand your fate. Will you open the door for me?” He nods, doing as I ask. I place the gun against his forehead and pull the trigger.

  Now, where I thought there would be an exciting battle, there is nothing more than the going about of day-to-day chores. The guards do not move. The servants continue in their duties. I feel lost, yet not.

  “Are you all afraid?” I ask.

  “Yes,” they reply in what seems like the same unison their council would have replied.

  “Then do not fret. I will end it quickly.” To quicken the process, I draw the silver gun that Ankh created, too. I begin firing. They may not have the same effect, but if they kill all the same, who am I to complain? One by one, I enter and exit different rooms. One by one, a few more guards or servants are killed. I can’t even claim that I feel bad for them. I don’t. My bullet shatters their skulls or rips cavities into their chests, and there is nothing they can do. Nothing they will do.

  And when I am happy with my sweet, reloading one last time, I step into the council chambers where the seven sit, unflinching. Unmoving.

  “We know why you are here, Ancient one.”

  “And how did you know I was coming, members of the council?” They’re still unwavering. Even with death at their door, they will not show fear.

  “We are wiser than you may believe. We trust that you will find a suitable replacement when you have Daffyd removed from his seat?”

  “Already taken care of.” I nod. This was truly no fun. Shooting fish in a barrel is more exciting than slaughtering those who will not fight back.

  “Today you have committed a crime against our council that would have been punishable by death had you been one of us. How does it feel to be a being that can transcend the rules of law and nature? It must be great.”

  I don’t quite understand where that comment came from.

  “If I kill one of you, do the rest die, too?”

  “No. It merely breaks our bond. Perhaps once it’s broken, we will fear you.”

  “Then let’s find out,” I raise my guns and start on the outside of the seven seats, from the left and right, shooting two at a time until there is only one of the seven remaining.

  “Tell me then, are you afraid?” I ask him.

  “No,” he replies, “I am ready for peace. I am ready for the eternal res…” Before he could finish his sentence and drone on about what I can only imagine would be boring, I put a bullet between his eyes.

  That’s my job done. Now I only hope Brooke can do what she seeks out.

  Chapter Forty-Four: Victor

  Locked away in a prison cell. It’s not the first time this has been my fate. The Tower of London housed me for many years when I was only just beginning to learn the extent of my abilities. Since then, much has changed. This could be said for my confines, just as well as my abilities.


  They are both connected, of course. Incrementally becoming more difficult to control and escape. Or rather, I should say, they were. In my last travels, I found many new methods to conduct my magic. The African shamans, the Native American witch doctors...

  They have all taught me far more than I could ever thank them to.

  Another thing I find with the more arrogant beings that roam this world is not that they do not keep you trapped…well, no, it’s more that they do not believe you are anything to fear, so they leave you trapped with all you have. No true bonds, only the Forsaken magic that keeps you trapped within your cell.

  Left with all my equipment, they stand no chance.

  “Shweshwe, khan moroba,” I begin, my hands finding their way into their pockets with great difficulty due to the force restricting them. Gunpowder, colored powders, coal and feathers are all I need.

  So, I take each one from my pocket. Pouring lines on the ground. Gunpowder as the base, complimented by blue, green, and yellow powders in the shape of a triangle. In the center of the mass goes the small block of coal. A feather rested on top.

  “Shweshwe, san, nolobo san.” I wave my hands over the powders, and they start to glow red before igniting the gunpowder. The powder lights the coal, which does not affect the feather. Not at all. Until I let it. I part my hands as wide as I can, putting it down against the hot ember. As soon as the feather feels the presence of the supernatural, it bursts into light, releasing me from my bonds. Like a flame in a jar. It sucks up the oxygen, killing itself. The feather is no more.

  I pocket the rest of my items as well as the ember and begin my journey outward.

  The lock on the gate is simple to crack. The tapped in energy of the demigoddess is enough to shatter it with only adding some force. Good. Now my escape can truly begin.

  The Bifrost.

  A long bridge out in Asgard that leads to any realm I choose to go. Home, of course, is where I will end up, but I do hope I find some more intriguing powers on the way.

  The Forsaken realm is truly magnificent, I must admit. Each color a rare sight on Earth. The purples and pinks and blues and reds that dance in the sky as I make my way through an empty realm are interesting.