Benny let the issue drop for the moment, but he felt he had to share everything with Autumn. It was only later that night, while they were in the hotel room that he finally shared the full story with her, including the advice his father had giv-en him.
“Wow, that is some very cryptic advice,” Autumn said once her husband had finished.
“Do you think I’m crazy?” he asked.
“Maybe a little.”
“I know it’s weird, but I’m sure what I saw was real. I have not suffered from hallucinations before that night and I haven’t had any since. I haven’t done any drugs stronger than weed, and that doesn’t cause you to see things.”
“You smoked some weed that night, maybe it was laced with something else.”
“You, Jack and Marvin smoked the same stuff. Did you see anything strange that night?”
“No,” Autumn said with a note of defeat.
“What if that old man on the street out there is right? What if there are vampires out there?”
“I guess we should just do what your father said, or else we will end up being the crazy fucks shouting about hor-ror movie creatures taking over the world. That’s what it comes down to, ultimately. No one would believe us any more than they believe the guy with the sign.”
Benny conceded this point, and though he couldn’t do anything about this little issue, he felt a lot better knowing Autumn believed him and was on his side. The fact that she said “we” instead of “you” was enough to show just how much she really loved him, despite what others would see as the ramblings of a lunatic.
The Writemans didn’t see another vampire the rest of their trip but Autumn’s psychic gift was as strong as ever. They had to abandon the car and after two days they found themselves deep in the wilderness of the Rockies. The trees were bright and beautiful with the brilliant colors of Fall, and Autumn frequently commented about the ones she liked the best.
None of them were even sure they were in Colorado anymore, hell they could have been in Canada for all Benny knew. They had followed no map to get that far, there hadn’t been any signs on the back roads they had followed; there was only Autumn’s guidance.
By the time they started to ascend the steep incline of a mountain side, Autumn had started to look very bad. Her skin had gone past pasty white and had taken on an almost blue tint. Time was growing shorter.
“How much further, Autumn?” Frank asked after they had climbed 2/3 the way up the mountain.
“I don’t know,” Autumn said, “maybe 600 yards or so. A little ways through there,” she pointed to a large area of the forest that had grown heavy with underbrush and looked very much as if someone wanted to keep people from entering the land beyond.
Frank and Benny pulled out there swords and began hacking away at the thick branches. With each section they cut down it seemed like more would pop up.
“I don’t think where getting anywhere,” Benny stated after ten minutes of work.
Frank looked back and forth down the line of brush, “Yeah, I think your right. Maybe there’s a way around it.”
As Frank spoke, Benny bent low to examine the branches closer. He was amazed to see that everything he had just cut down was growing back right before his eyes.
“Dad!”
The Old Man turned at Benny’s call and followed his gaze to the old plant life. He saw what his son had found al-most immediately. The branches and vines he had cut down were slowly reappearing. Yes, it was slow, but far faster than any plant should grow.
“Guys,” Autumn said from behind them, “I don’t think it’s growing, I think it’s moving.”
“What?” the two men asked in unison.
Then, without warning, the vines whipped out at them with lightning speed, wrapping around Benny and Frank and pulling them to the ground. For a moment, they both just laid there, completely bound by the vines. Autumn ran to Benny and tried frantically to get the vine off of him.
Then, like racing dogs just let out of the gate, the two men took off, speeding alongside the wall of vines.
Benny thought he had never moved so fast before in his life, the surrounding trees screamed by in a colorful blur. The thing dragged him across a tree stump and he hit his head hard on a rock as he came over the other side. He was sure he had blacked out, but couldn’t tell how long. When he looked around again everything was distorted and blurry.
Suddenly, the two of them were yanked upward into the branches of the biggest weeping willow tree Benny had ever seen. He caught sight of his father as he dangled there, upside down, and could see the Old Man struggling to escape the vine’s grasp. Benny wanted to get out of the trap, he needed to get out, but he still felt dazed and weak from the bump he took on the head.
Without warning, a heavy cracking sound traveled up the trunk of the tree and seemed to reverberate throughout every branch. The revolting sound made Benny’s head throb like the string of a bass guitar.
The loud crack came again and Benny craned his neck up (which, in this case would have been down) and tried to find the source of the noise. His vision was still blurry, but he could make out a ghostly figure walking away from the base of the tree.
The newcomer backed away from the trunk and ran forward again, slamming into the tree with their shoulder as if trying to break down a door. The tree shuddered violently with the force of the impact.
Benny closed his eyes and tried hard to focus and stop his head from spinning. All the blood rushing to his head wasn’t helping his pounding skull. He looked back toward the stranger on the ground and he was finally able to focus and the identity of the ghost became clear.
“AUTUMN?” he shouted, a fresh spike of pain shot through his head at the strain in his vocal chords. He watched again as Autumn ran to the tree and slammed into the trunk. The tree gave another shudder and the cracking sound grew louder and longer, as if the tree would split in half any minute.
The tree didn’t split in half with Autumn’s final blow, but it did fall over, pulling all of its roots out of the ground with it. As it came down, Benny saw his dead wife cling desperately to the trunk, trying hard to avoid the huge mound of earth that was pulled out with the roots.
When the weeping willow hit the ground, Frank and Benny were pulled violently through the branches before the vines finally loosened their grip and sent them tumbling to the dead leaves below.
Frank slowly got to his feet, every muscle in his body was aching and he had suffered a few cuts and bruises, other-wise he seemed to be in one piece. He looked around and found Benny lying a few yards away, his body seemed broken and motionless. The old man felt his heart sink.
After dragging his feet to the spot where his youngest son was, Frank dropped to his knees and carefully turned Benny over onto his back. A thousand images raced through his mind, all the fond memories he had of bringing up his baby boy.
“Benny,” he pleaded, “please be okay.”
Benny’s eyes popped opened and he looked at his father, “My head is killing me.”
Frank sighed with relief and wrapped his arms around Benny’s head and shoulders.
“Head, Dad,” Benny moaned, “watch the head.”
With some effort and a lot of help from each other the two men got to their feet and began looking for Autumn. They found her sitting against a large boulder a short distance away from the upturned tree roots. With her chin resting on her chest and hair hanging over her face, she looked completely exhausted.
“Autumn, are you alright?” Benny asked.
The dead girl slowly raised her head, “I guess I still had a little of that superhuman strength left after all.”
“Yeah, but it looks like you overdone it,” Frank add-ed, “do you think you can walk at all.”
Autumn stood up with help from her husband and father-in-law, when they let her go she stumbled and nearly fell on her face. The two men caught her and each put one of her arms around their shoulders.
“I think if I could just ge
t some rest I’d get a little energy back,” Autumn said in a weak, trembling voice.
Frank took a look at the surrounding woods, “Alright, we can set up camp for the night, but first I want to get as far away from this fucked up tree as possible.”
With the tree out of the way, a path had cleared that would take them closer to their destination. Beat up and tired, the Writemans nevertheless remained completely on guard for any other traps that may be waiting for them.
The area beyond the weeping willow was vastly dif-ferent then the woods they had been traveling before. While the trees before were painted with bright fall colors, everything on this side was dead and ugly.
Before long they came to a wide clearing and Frank had the others hang back while he made sure the area was safe.
He finally came back and said, “Alright, we’ll make camp here for the night, and in the morning, with the sun shin-ing bright, we’ll make our way through those trees and Benny will stake that fucker in the heart.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Benny said, sounding ex-hausted. He plopped down on the ground and started to re-move his gear. He and his father were packing enough heat to fight a small army. “I think the tree was just a booby trap to keep wonderers out, we could keep a look out tonight, but I don’t think they’re going to fuck with us.”
“Yeah, I know, and that doesn’t really sit well with me. We may be walking into a trap. We’ll keep a look out anyway.”
“I’ll keep a lookout,” Autumn offered, “I don’t need to sleep.”
Benny was preparing to get some much needed rest when he heard a rattling sound come from his right. He looked up to see his father holding a small bottle of aspirin.
“When you get to be my age your always prepared,” he said with a smile, “need some?”
“Hell yeah!” Benny exclaimed. He took some with the bottled water from his bag and soon felt the pain in his head fade.
The young man lay down and looking up at the dar-kening sky, he noticed the dancing lights of the aurora borealis for the first time since they had begun climbing the mountain. He had wanted to see the northern lights in person since he’d seen them in a John Wayne movie when he was a boy.
Benny fell asleep wondering if this would be the last time he saw them.
The cold early morning air chilled Benny and Frank as they broke through the remainder of the small wooded area. Autumn, on the other hand, looked completely comfortable and far better than she did the night before. The low temperature so high up the mountain seemed to be preserving her body, at least a little. For the first time Benny noticed a small green spot forming at the corner of her mouth as well as a few larger spots on her arms. Her dead body was starting to rot and Benny knew their journey would have to end here.
The trees and rocky ground this high were covered with fresh, virgin snow (the dead trees they had seen before had become less frequent, replaced instead by full, robust evergreens) and breathtaking didn’t begin to describe the view of the surrounding mountains. Benny had to wonder to himself how an area so beautiful could house creatures as vile as vampires.
They climbed a slight hill and came to the edge of a wide stone bridge. Across the bridge stood a great castle that seemed to be built into the side of the mountain.
“Now that’s impressive,” Frank said. He looked up at the jutting roof and added; “This place is completely camouf-laged, even from the sky. If we didn’t have Autumn guiding us we would have never found it.”
“Alright,” Benny said, “let’s not shit ourselves.”
The trio began to walk across the bridge when Benny noticed a large circular courtyard in front of the castle that was covered by a canopy, formed by several tall evergreen trees that seemed to bend forward to meet each other. Frank and Benny had taken a few more steps before they realized that Autumn had stopped walking.
“What is it?” Benny asked, seeing an expression of mixed horror and disgust on her face.
“Look,” she said, pointing a shaking finger, “around the edge of the courtyard.
The two men looked to where Autumn was pointing and immediately saw what had shaken her so badly. Benny felt his stomach roll over and was sure that if he had eaten anything in the past twenty four hours, it would have been splattered on the rocky ground right then. There, forming a large circle around the courtyard, were approximately fifty long spears protruding from the ground, each one holding an impaled human body. A couple of the bodies were long dead skeletons and some others still looked fairly fresh, but many were still moving, trying desperately to escape their torturous deaths.
“Autumn, are you sure Odin Sway is in this castle?” Benny asked.
“Positive.”
“Fine, let’s get in, stake him, and leave as soon as possible.”
“Agreed,” Frank added.
The Writemans now approached the front doors at a much quicker pace. They crossed the courtyard (noticing the stench of the impaled bodies as they went) and as they reached the bottom of the broad, stone steps that led to the entrance, the large oak doors slowly creaked open. The three Writemans’ stopped in their tracks. A tall man with a fair complexion, bushy brown hair and thick moustache walked out and at once Frank recognized him.
“Vlad the Impaler,” the Old Man said in a breathless voice.
Vlad smiled and said; “Welcome to my house.”
Frank’s hand went to the butt of his Uzi while Benny gripped the hilt of his sterling silver samurai sword.
“Please,” Vlad said, and as he raised his hands the weapons were pulled away from their owners by some unseen force, each landing at opposite ends of the courtyard. “There is no need for those here, no one will attack you.”
The three mortals stood motionless, staring at an ancient, historical figure that appeared to be no more than forty years old.
Vlad seemed uncomfortable with the silence, and began to fumble for something to say. “You recognize me,” he finally blurted. “It’s the moustache, right? I’ve had it for ages, but I just can’t bring myself to shave it.”
This was followed by a few more moments of si-lence.
“Oh, come now,” Vlad said cheerfully, “why do you all look so surprised?”
“We-well,” Benny stammered as he looked nervously to his father and then to Autumn before returning his attention to Vlad, “we didn’t really expect anyone to be up.”
“Ah, of course, sunlight. Well, I have evolved beyond the weaknesses of younger vampires. I am what is known as a Vampire Lord, I have abilities that the young ones cannot even begin to comprehend. As such, I am unable to be killed by the usual means. That would make me one of the most powerful beings on Earth.
“Enough about me, though, I believe you are here in regards to one of my servants; Odin Sway.”
“I’ve come to kill him,” Benny said plainly.
“You cut right to the chase, don’t you? Please, come in, and we will speak on this matter as friends.”
Frank began to object, but Benny put a hand on his arm and said; “I’ll be alright, Dad.”
The old man let out an impatient sigh, “Alright, we’ll be right here. You have thirty minutes before we come in with guns blazing.”
“That should be ample time,” Vlad said politely.
The vampire ushered Benny through the door, leav-ing it open as a show of good faith. The entrance gave way to a huge lobby, the floor and walls made of the darkest black marble he had ever seen. An exquisite looking staircase rose from the middle of the room and up to a landing that was shrouded in shadows.
Benny was led to a large library off to the left of the lobby. Inside blazed an immense fire place that threw light onto a seemingly endless collection of books that lined the walls, and in the middle of the room sat two high backed chairs turned toward each other.
“Please,” Vlad started, “let us sit by the fire, you can chase the chilly air from your bones.”
Benny sat silently and waited for Vlad to speak again.
<
br /> “First, I want you to know that your wife was killed without my approval, and although Odin held the blade that killed her, he had absolutely no choice in the matter.”
“No choice!” Benny shouted in disbelief, “If he didn’t want to kill her he could have told the others no. He could have-”
“MISTER WRITEMAN!” Though Vlad is one man, three voices shrieked from his mouth. “Please wait until I finish.”
Benny sank back in his seat, not daring to say another word.
“You see, Mr. Writeman,” Vlad continued in the same polite manner as before, “Odin Sway is what we call a ’lesser vampire’. This means he is compelled to do what he is told by those superior to him. We are all separated into clans. I am the head of my clan and I am a vampire lord, as I men-tioned before. The level below lord is master, which was the rank of those you killed in Indiana. By the way, I am not an-gered by their deaths, for I myself would have killed them given the chance. The business relationship we had with your father was very important to us.”
“Why would they act without your permission?”
“It happens quite often, I’m afraid. Some vampires get into a position of power and before you know it, they are behaving like gangsters instead of business men. Although Odin is gifted, he is still a few years away from being a master. Lesser vampires cannot control their actions when they are issued an order by those above them. Odin greatly regrets what his masters made him do. Vampires, by nature, are peaceful, emotional creatures. At least they are now days.”
“How do you explain the impaled people in your courtyard?” Benny asked with a note of disgust.
“My art is rarely understood by mortals.”
“Art? Are you talking about the people dying painful-ly on those spears out there?”
“Dying? On the contrary, Mr. Writeman, they are being reborn into my clan. There are hundreds of thousands of people in this world who want to be a vampire. You and your lovely wife used to be two of them, if I’m not mistaken. ‘Goth kids’, right? Well, before they become vampires, they have to be servants. I have twenty five mortal servants in this castle right now. When they reach the age of forty, I set them loose in the woods on the other side of the valley and I hunt them down, for I do still enjoy a good hunt. They start the change before they’re impaled, and after a month they are let down. The sun doesn’t affect them in that time.”
Avenging Autumn: Seasons Change Book 1 of 4 Page 12
