Avenging Autumn: Seasons Change Book 1 of 4

by Derek A. Schneider

  “I’m not on some mission to destroy an entire race of beings. This isn’t about being a hunter, it’s about avenging Autumn. I don’t give a fuck if these goddamned things over-run the earth, as long as the six who are responsible for her murder no longer exist.”

  “And when they come after us, will you be able to kill them then?”

  “I’ll be forced to defend myself, as I’ve done already at Jack’s house. Self defense is different than cold blooded murder.”

  “Aren’t these guys technically already dead?” Jack interrupted.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Benny continued, “they’ve done nothing against us, so we’ll do nothing to them.”

  Frank knew there was no point in arguing the matter any further; his youngest son had always been the bleeding heart type. “Fine, go on and do what you need to do then.”

  Benny and Autumn opened the door and stepped through into a large room that was decorated in maroon velvet and black roses.

  “Wow,” Autumn said, looking around, “we should have done our bedroom like this.”

  Along the left wall sat two black coffins with gold trim, in front of an enormous wall hanging that depicted dark figures in the middle of some gruesome act. The right wall was almost a mirror image, only the figures in the wall hanging were wearing white instead of black. In the middle of the room was a white coffin trimmed in silver and elevated slightly higher than the rest.

  “We don’t have all day, Benny,” Frank said from the doorway.

  Benny suddenly felt self conscious, knowing that his father would be able to kill these beings without hesitation. As he opened the first coffin (on the left side of the room) he felt a sudden weakness in his knee’s that he usually associated with a good round of sex. This, however was not sex, it was murder, plain and simple.

  Even in the darkened room, Benny could see the pale face staring up at him with wide pleading eyes. He pulled a stake from his belt and let the point rest on the vampire’s chest, directly over his heart. The man’s face twitched and grew taught at the touch of the wooden object. He looked as if he wanted to beg for his life, but was physically unable to.

  Benny swallowed nervously, and then placed the palm of his right hand on the flat end of the stake. Using all of his weight, he pushed the weapon through the creature’s breast plate and into the heart beneath.

  A deafening scream erupted from the vampire’s mouth, forcing the humans in the room to quickly cover their ears with the palms of their hands. The thing arched it’s back, it’s hands twisting into ugly talons as dark red liquid flowed from the wound in it’s chest. Suddenly, he dropped limp and lifeless back into the coffin.

  Benny felt a surge of adrenaline rush trough his body. Maybe this was more like sex then he thought. Suddenly a sickening guilt began to tickle at the back of his mind. Then the guilt was pushed away by a foreign voice telling him there is no room for guilt here, this is revenge, there can be no mercy shown to these creatures. They murdered the only woman you ever loved.

  Taking a deep breath, Benny moved to the next cof-fin with grave determination painted on his face. He threw the lid open and looked down on an extremely attractive woman. This took him by surprise, she was the first female vampire he had seen, and she was quite possibly the most beautiful vision he had ever laid eyes on. How could he ever bring himself to do harm to this lovely creature? How could he drive a wooden stake into her flawless, creamy white breast? He suddenly felt a strong urge to reach out and caress the two full mounds that were hidden beneath the black silk of her blouse.

  He shook his head violently and forced his eyes away from the beast. This was part of their power, he understood that now. It was the same spell that Autumn fell under with Odin Sway, just before he killed her. They’re all attractive, he even felt vaguely attracted to the male vampires. It was faint, but he now realized it was there just the same.

  He pulled a stake from his belt and brought it down swiftly, so as not to be caught under the spell again. The woman howled like a banshee, as the same death rattle that the first vampire exhibited now ravaged her body. Then with an alarming suddenness, she went still.

  Benny quickly moved to the other side of the room, wanting nothing more than to be through with the task at hand and to be out of the strange house. He moved to the first casket, flung the lid up, and rammed a stake into the vampire’s heart. Not waiting for the thing to stop screaming he immediately moved to the next one. Again the kill was quick, and Benny walked to the last coffin while the screaming from the previous two continued. He tore the lid off the last box, but stopped in his tracks.

  “What’s wrong?” Frank asked, once the screams had stopped.

  Benny’s voice came from far away, as if his mind was somewhere else completely. “This guy is an art critic; he attended a few of my showings. He was always a big suppor-ter of my art.”

  “You never saw him in daylight though, did you?” The Old Man returned.

  “No,” Benny replied, as he brought the point of another stake to rest on the man’s chest, “Now that you men-tion it, I didn’t.”

  Much to Benny’s surprise, the vampire smiled at him and tears spilled from his eyes, as if he had been waiting cen-turies for this moment to come. The stake plunged into it’s blackened target, and though the creature tensed slightly, there wasn’t so much as a whimper to be heard from his smiling mouth.

  So it came that five of the six vampires were dead.

  Benny turned and looked at the others. “All that re-mains now is; finding Odin Sway.”

  8. The Graveyard and the Cornfield

  The ride home from the concert was full of the usual gripes and curses from Frank, after making the long trip to Indianapolis to pick up the four concert goers.

  “I don’t know why you have to give all of these as-sholes your money anyway,” the Old Man barked. “You al-ready have the CD full of all of their music, what’s the differ-ence if you see them live.”

  No one ever answered these questions, it was better to stay quiet and let him rant, and rant he did, all the way back to Triloville.

  Once Marvin, Jack and Autumn were dropped off at their respective homes, Benny found himself alone in the car with his father as they returned to Frank’s house, where Benny was staying until he returned to school.

  Benny stared at the Old Man’s face for a long mo-ment, highlighted only by the ghostly glow of the dashboard lights, and tried hard to decide if he could confide in him without being perceived as being crazy.

  “Something on your mind?” Frank said.

  Benny swallowed hard and then spoke, “I saw some-thing tonight. Something strange that I’m not sure was entirely real.”

  “What did you see?”

  Benny recounted his trip to the dark bathroom. When he had finished, Frank looked at him sternly and said; “Did you drop acid tonight?”

  “Benny shook his head, “Of course not, I’ve never done that shit.”

  “In that case you probably did see this creature.”

  This was the last thing Benny expected to hear from his father.

  Frank saw the confused look on his son’s face and decided to elaborate. “During my time in the military and even in this business, I have seen some strange shit, things that I wouldn’t feel comfortable telling anyone for fear of my sanity being questioned, so believe me, I know where your coming from.”

  “What do you think it was I saw?”

  “I don’t know, Benny, but some things are better forgotten. If you dwell on this and start talking about it to other people, it could get back to someone or something that doesn’t want this secret out. Then you might find yourself a lifeless lump on a bathroom floor.”

  Benny nodded and took his father’s advice to heart, pushing the entire event to the back of his mind. He would not think of it again for almost five years.

  The old black hearse had just crossed the border from Indiana into Illinois.

  “We should be able to make it befor
e sunset,” Frank shouted over the roaring engine, “Omaha is about eight hours away and it’s just past 11 now.”

  Autumn had just finished informing the others that she could feel Odin’s presence somewhere around Omaha, Nebraska, presumably holed up someplace dark until the sun went down.

  “We only have about seven hours before the sun sets,” Jack reminded the others, “it is October after all.”

  “I realize that, Jack, but I also realize, come sun down, we’ll be the target of a whole lot of vampires. So, we’ll leave it up to Benny,” Frank looked to the back of the hearse at his other son. “You boys have been on a road trip with your old man before; you know I can get you there in less than seven hours.”

  Benny looked at his father, knowing he was right, and traffic should be thin on a Sunday morning. “Alright, let’s go for it.”

  Frank applied pressure to the gas pedal and the old death cab shot westward where they would ride Interstate 80 in an almost straight line to Omaha.

  Turning his attention to the back of the hearse, Benny began to replenish his belt with wooden stakes. Autumn had moved some of the arsenal away from the window, and was now stretched out on her side, using that old army nap sack as a pillow, staring distantly at the scenery as it flew by. Benny sat his gear aside and lay down behind her, slipping his arm around her waist. She closed her eyes, savoring his touch, knowing if she was able to shed a tear they would be streaming down her face right now.

  “Are you alright?” he whispered in her ear.

  “Yes,” she answered, “I just feel so sorry for the things I’m making you do. The person you’re becoming is so different from the person you once were.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “You would never have killed anyone before; you were always such a live and let live type of guy. Back when we were at IUPUI everyone used to call you a hippie.”

  “Hippie?” Benny sounded shocked, “Who called me a hippie?”

  “Kenny Evens, for one.”

  “Would this be the same belligerent, gun freak, Ken-ny Evens who would beat the crap out of people when they made fun of his teeth, and committed himself to the Army when he was sixteen only to be tossed out because he was even two nutty for them?”

  “Yes,” Autumn replied sheepishly.

  “That guy made Ted Nugent look like a hippie.”

  Autumn began to giggle, in spite of her worries.

  “Besides, there is something I’ve always had that makes me secure enough in my masculinity to not act like a dominate male, chest beating freak like Kenny Evens.”

  Autumn turned over and looked into his eyes, fully prepared to hear something extremely romantic. “What’s that?”

  “A massive cock.”

  With that, Autumn began laughing harshly; letting out pig like snorts no matter how hard she tried to contain them. When the laughing had finally subsided, Benny began to stroke her long hair. “Nothing has changed about me, Autumn. I would do absolutely anything to be with you for the rest of eternity, and that’s the way I’ve felt since the moment I first met you.”

  She smiled at him and he leaned down and kissed her lips, and though she probably imagined it, she could have sworn that kiss made her cold body feel much warmer.

  Jack sat in the passenger’s seat with his head resting against the window, not really paying any attention to the brilliantly colored trees that were racing by outside. Instead, his thoughts were somewhere else. A long forgotten memory buried deep in his mind, rising to the surface with the startling suddenness of a bloated body in Lake Michigan.

  He was seven years old, maybe eight, and he had just watched a TV movie with his father, Salem’s Lot if he remembered correctly. He was lying in bed trying to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes the bald vampire’s horrible face would appear floating before his mind’s eye. It didn’t take long for him to start screaming for his mommy. And in she came, as she always did, to comfort him. He remembers her sitting there on the edge of his small bed, rubbing his back, and assuring him that there were no such things as vampires. It was only a movie, they were only actors (and not very good ones at that) wearing heavy makeup and fake teeth.

  He remembered feeling so much better with her there. So much safer. How he wished she was with him on this mad trip, to rub his back and tell him everything was going to be alright.

  That movie, as well as the multitude of horror movies he had seen since then, were weighing heavily on his mind. Mostly because the vast majority of them have something in common. The supporting cast gets killed off one by one throughout the course of the movie until the main character and maybe a love interest are all that‘s left. The situation that he and his family (what’s left of them anyway) had found themselves in now is feeling more and more like one of those movies. What are the odds that all of them would make it through this, considering what they’re up against.

  This is Benny’s story, and he knew it. Ol’ Jack Writeman is nothing but a supporting character, just like the Old Man, and even Autumn. He had a sinking feeling he was not going to make it to the end of this story alive. While these thoughts ran through his mind he fell into an uneasy sleep.

  Frank Writeman was used to going long periods of time without sleep, but now that the adrenaline from breaking into the vampire house had drained from his body, he felt an exhaustion he hadn’t felt since his younger days. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to collapse on a bed and sleep for a good twelve hours.

  That was not an option however, and he was sure that if they didn’t kill Odin Sway before sundown, there was a very good possibility they would be dead before dawn. This was Benny’s best chance of completing his task and after that he would let things play out as they may.

  Now, as they made their way west to Omaha, he couldn’t help but feel bad for Jack. He regrets ever letting his oldest boy get involved in this mess. Frank had lived a long life and didn’t fear death, and though Benny was young, it was well understood that without Autumn he was practically dead already. Jack, however, still had things going for him back home. Sure he hadn’t had much luck with women lately, and Frank knew how much he hated the job he had inexplicably gotten into, but he had yet to know the magnificence of real love, and now he most likely never would.

  Hind sight is always twenty/twenty. Right?

  “Right,” he said aloud.

  Jack’s head popped up from its resting place on the passenger door window. “You say something?”

  “No,” Frank replied, after a slight hesitation, “go back to sleep, son.”

  Jack dropped his head back to the window. A few seconds later, Frank put his hand in Jacks and held it. Jack squeezed his father’s hand, and sleep came a little easier.

  There was still about a half an hour of daylight left when the Writeman hearse pulled into the Auburn Fields cem-etery, just outside of Omaha city limits.

  “See, I told you we’d make it.” Frank stated, proudly.

  “Yeah,” Jack glumly returned, “that’s great, Dad.”

  Looking back through the window at Autumn, Frank asked; “Where exactly do we need to go, pumpkin.”

  Autumn felt momentarily stunned by her father-in-laws use of a nickname he gave her long ago. Though he had called her pumpkin countless times in the past, this was the first time he had done so since she had returned from the dead. It made her feel accepted and at the same time it made her realize how much she really loved the old man as if he were her own father.

  “Autumn?” Jack said.

  “Sorry,” she pointed a finger out the windshield, “up there on that hill, inside the mausoleum.”

  “Inside a mausoleum,” Jack half shouted, “Why am I not surprised.”

  “Settle down, Jack,” Benny said from the back of the hearse, “let’s get up there, we don’t have much time.”

  Frank drove the car up a narrow, paved road and parked next to the decrepit looking structure. The three men exited the car and began equipping their gear. Aut
umn got out of the car and walked slowly away from the mausoleum. She came to a stop near an eroded headstone and stood staring blankly toward an adjacent corn field.

  Benny and Jack went to the front of the mausoleum and began the arduous task of removing the large stone slab that covered the entrance. After a few moments of struggle, Benny turned to his father, red faced and out of breath, “Can you…give us…a hand with this.”

  “Oh, yeah!” the Old Man exclaimed, “Alright, on the count of three. One, two, three, heave.”

  The three of them pulled on the slab together, but still had no luck moving it.

  After catching his breath Frank said; “Something isn’t right here, it shouldn’t be this hard to move.”

  “Maybe we should just go,” Jack put in nervously, “we don’t have much time left.”

  Benny thought about it a moment, then looked at his brother “Jack, do you have a tire iron in that hearse?”

  “Yeah, I think so. Give me a second to dig it out.”

  As Jack went back to the car, Benny noticed his wife hadn’t moved or said a word since they had exited the hearse. She only stood there by a grave, staring at a withering corn-field down the hill a ways.

  “Autumn?” Benny said from behind her, “Are you alright?”

  She turned and stared at him with frightened confu-sion. “He’s there, in the cornfield.”

  Jack had just returned with the tire iron and all three of them were now giving her an identical dumfounded look.

  “But, didn’t just you say he was in the mausoleum?” Benny asked.

  “He is, but I also feel his presence in the cornfield.”

  “Are you sure it isn’t other vampires you feel?”

  “He is the only one I can sense, and he’s in the mau-soleum, yet at the same time I can feel him in many different places throughout the field.”

  “Alright,” Frank said, as he took the tire iron from Jack and shoved it into Benny’s hands, “Jack and I will check out the cornfield, you keep working on getting that door open.”