by K. M. Ashman
‘Lucas,’ she said, in astonishment. ‘Wow, this is fantastic, is it yours?’
‘Only for a few days,’ said Lucas. ‘It’s my guilty pleasure when I am over here.’
‘It’s gorgeous,’ said Amy.
‘Well, don’t just stand there,’ laughed Lucas, ‘get in.’
Amy threw her overnight bag over the back of the seat and climbed in besides him. They drove off with a wheel spin, making the passers-by tut with disapproval, and soon they were on the way out of London, laughing together as they left the smoky city behind them.
‘Where are we going?’ asked Amy.
‘I thought we would have a drive along the coast,’ said Lucas, ‘stop off at a seaside resort, have some fun on a funfair, and try some of those English fish and chips you are so famous for and then head into the country. I’ve rented a little cottage in the middle of nowhere. Is that okay?’
‘Sounds fabulous,’ said Amy, ‘go faster.’
The next few hours went by in a blur, for Amy. The ride was exhilarating, and even when they were booked for speeding, as soon as the policeman left, they doubled up laughing as if it was the funniest thing in the world. They spent hours in the funfair in Southend and then sat on a bench overlooking the sea as they ate their chips from the paper.
‘Enjoying yourself?’ asked Lucas.
‘I am having a wonderful time,’ said Amy, ‘but it’s getting a bit cold, how far away is this cottage?’
Lucas gazed at her and smiled.
‘About half an hour,’ he said and threw the last of his paper into the bin. ‘Are you ready to go?’
‘I am,’ said Amy and stood up before holding out her hand for him to take.
They walked hand in hand back to the car and shared a lingering kiss before driving to the cottage.
----
An hour later they had unpacked their small bags and Lucas had built a fire in the hearth of the small cottage. Two glasses of wine were sitting on the table between them and Lucas was transfixed as Amy retold the story she had heard earlier.
‘Wow, that’s some story,’ said Lucas, ‘but at the end of the day, it could be just one big set of coincidences.’
‘I know it sounds wild’, said Amy, ‘but even you said the legends of vampires were based on fact.’
‘Yes, but the facts I was on about were stories of people who thought there were vampires, not actual beings.’
‘But what if there were such things, Lucas?’ said Amy, with an excited look in her eye. ‘What if all of it is true and they did exist? Surely this is an opportunity too good to miss?’
‘Opportunity for what?’ asked Lucas.
‘To prove to everyone in the world that vampires were real. Becky isn’t some sort of mad scientist, Lucas. She is a serious Egyptologist who works in a Museum. Do you really think I would be talking like this unless I had seen the evidence with my own eyes?’
‘You have?’
‘I was sent up to the lab for the results,’ she said, ‘and I was given a package for Becky.’
‘What was in there?’
‘A small vial of black blood;’ said Amy, ‘and a hand written note.’
‘What did it say?’ asked Lucas, ‘do you recall?’
‘I can do better than that,’ said Amy, ‘I have it with me.’ She pulled a note from her bag and handed it over.
Becky,
The sample you requested is enclosed. I have destroyed the other item as requested but cultured this sample from the cells therein. I don’t know what you are involved in, and don’t want to know, but whatever it is, it scares me. This sample is unique as it is alive, and continues to be alive even now, twenty four hours later. That’s not natural, Becky. It goes against everything we know about nature.
Please be careful.
Craig.
When Lucas finished reading he looked at the back and then up at Amy.
‘Is that all there is?’ he asked.
‘Why?’
‘It could be about anything,’ he said.
‘I suppose so,’ she said, ‘but that’s why I brought this.’ She put a small plastic vial on the table.
‘What is it?’
‘The blood sample.’
‘Why did you bring it with you?’ gasped Lucas.
‘Well, I knew that you were as interested as I am,’ she said, ‘and it isn’t often we get to see real vampire blood.’
‘Wow,’ said Lucas, picking it up and holding it up to the light, ‘It’s almost black.’
‘I know,’ said Amy. ‘Isn’t it fantastic?’
‘Well, there’s still no proof it is the real thing,’ said Lucas.
‘I know, but I thought we could pinch a bit, and I could put this back before Becky knows any different. After that, all we have to do is get it sampled for ourselves and if it is genuine, let the world know that people like us were right all along.’
‘You would do that?’
‘Why not? The authorities always cover up things like this. Aliens, Atlantis, ESP, that sort of thing. Who are they to hide things like this from the people? We have a right to know I think it should be you and I who reveal it to the world. What do you think?’
Lucas looked at the vial once more before leaning over and kissing her deeply.
‘I think we should go upstairs,’ he said, and leaving the vial on the table, led Amy up to the bedroom.
----
Chapter Eighteen
Mulberry Lodge
Samari watched the CCTV monitor closely. The time display in the top right corner showed the recording was at 2pm that afternoon. The amber light flashing in the room meant someone must have been there and was about to change the settings. Sure enough, the dark blue room was suddenly lit up and he knew that whoever had been down there must have switched to daylight mode.
Nephthys had hidden behind her screen and within a few seconds, the doors opened and Samari could see two technicians struggling to drag something inside. Samari’s worst fears were realised when he saw they were carrying the body of a woman between them. He used the controls to zoom in and sure enough, he recognised the dead face of Mrs Leighbourne.
‘This is sick,’ he said to himself, but despite his revulsion, he continued watching. The two technicians left the room, and Samari was about to fast forward the tape but paused as two different men entered the room. He recognised one immediately as Leatherman, but gasped in astonishment as the second man looked up toward the camera.
‘Montague,’ gasped Samari, recognising the manager of the British Antiquities Museum.
The two men crouched over the dead body, and Montague produced a syringe that he placed into Mrs Leighbourne’s arm.
Samari was confused but suddenly it dawned on him.
‘Oh my god,’ he said to himself, ‘she’s not dead.’
The two men on the screen withdrew from the room, leaving the unconscious woman behind them in the cell. The lights remained on daylight as the drugs in the woman’s bloodstream worked, and gradually she regained consciousness. Within a few minutes, she sat up and looked around in confusion. Samari turned up the volume until he could hear her speaking.
‘Hello,’ she said, ‘is anyone there? Where am I? What is this place? Hello, can anybody hear me?’
Suddenly the lights turned off and the cell returned to moonlight. The old woman now looked afraid and called out again.
‘Hello, I don’t know what all this is about but can somebody help me? Please, I need my wheelchair.’
Samari saw Nephthys peer from around the screen. She stared at the old woman for a moment before taking a few steps forward and standing before her.
‘Who are you, old woman?’ she asked in her native Egyptian.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand,’ replied Mrs Leighbourne in English. ‘Can you help me please? I don’t know where I am.’
Nephthys looked toward the mirrored glass.
‘What is this trickery?’ she asked.
Samari
was surprised to hear a voice answer her in Egyptian over the tannoy system and though the speaker was obviously not fluent, Samari could understand the words, as indeed, could Nephthys.
‘Nephthys, I am called Montague,’ said the voice, ‘and I am the leader of the people who hold you captive.’
‘Then I will one day eat your heart,’ snarled Nephthys.
‘I understand your anger,’ said Montague, ‘and your captivity is indeed unfortunate but we believe that if we can work together, there may be an opportunity to change this state of affairs.’
‘You speak the same words as Doctor,’ said Nephthys. ‘Where is he?’
‘He is not here,’ said Montague, ‘and will soon be gone. His work is poor and we grow impatient. From now on you will talk with me.’
‘Then show yourself,’ said Nephthys. ‘Let me stare into your soul to see the truth of your words as I did with Doctor.’
‘I can’t do that,’ said Montague, ‘however, to show you my eagerness to please, I offer you this gift.’
‘The woman?’
‘Yes, she is yours to do with as you will.’
‘You bring me a sacrifice?’
‘We do.’
‘She is old.’
‘Yet her heart still beats,’ said Montague. ‘If you work with us, there will be more such offerings and in time, we will arrange younger blood. In the meantime, this is a gesture of our commitment to you.’
Samari gasped as he realised what was unfolding before him. If he understood correctly, Montague had just committed to feeding live human beings to this creature. That could only mean that where he had guests with no family ties, then they would be used as sacrifice to her inhuman needs. In addition, he had just said there would be younger blood. How would he do that, Abduction? On the screen, Nephthys approached Mrs Leighbourne who was struggling to stand on her weak legs.
‘What do you want of me?’ asked Nephthys, as she circled the old woman.
‘It is very simple,’ said Montague, ‘every week or so we will bring you sacrifice.’
‘Week?’ she asked.
‘Sorry, I forgot our language is strange to you. Every few days you will have a sacrifice such as this. The following day you will allow us to remove some of your blood. It won’t hurt and we don’t need much. All we need is for you to allow us to secure you with binds while we extract what we need.’
‘Excuse me,’ said Mrs Leighbourne to the girl, ‘please could you tell me what is happening here. I can’t understand a word you’re saying and I can’t find my spectacles.’
Nephthys ignored the woman’s strange words and spoke again toward the glass.
‘You would have me make deals with demons who are afraid to show themselves,’ she said, ‘why would I allow this?’
‘Because you have no other choice,’ said Montague. ‘Either you will agree or we will do it anyway.’
‘You forget my strength, Montague,’ Nephthys sneered. ‘What soldiers would you pit against me? My fury would smite them before they got near.’
‘It is you who forgets, Nephthys,’ said Montague. ‘We have the sunlight weapon that burns you. If you do not agree, we will remove your screen. You will be fed on rats and when we want your blood we will burn you until you are weak before taking what we want. These are your choices, Nephthys. I wish they could be different but they are not. The world has changed and is no longer as you remember it. We are the rulers now, and it is we who decide who lives or dies.’
‘Hello,’ interrupted, Mrs Leighbourne, speaking up toward the CCTV camera. ‘I don’t know who you are, but please can you help me. There seems to have been a mistake. Can you call someone please? I don’t know where I am.’
‘So what is it to be, Nephthys?’ asked Montague. ‘Choose your future.’
‘Why do you want my blood?’ she asked.
‘We wish to study it,’ said Montague, ‘to see what it is that makes the nightwalkers immortal.’
‘Many men before you have sought the secret, Montague. All have failed.’
‘Like I said, times have changed,’ said Montague, ‘we have methods that would amaze you.’
‘I will take your arrangement,’ she said, ‘but will not be bound.’
‘We have to bind you,’ said Montague. ‘We know your strength and will not put our people in danger.’
‘I will not be bound,’ she said again, ‘but will give you the blood you require.’
‘How?’ asked Montague.
‘I will open my own vein and fill the clear cup that contains the water. I will do this only after you have offered sacrifice. These are my terms.’
There was a silence before Montague came back on the tannoy.
‘Agreed,’ he said. ‘The next time we bring you fresh blood, we will require yours in return. Now we will go.’
The tannoy fell silent as did the cell. Mrs Leighbourne had found her glasses and bent over to pick them up before putting them on.
‘That’s better,’ she said and shuffled around to face in to the cell.
Nephthys stood immediately in front of her and made the old lady jump in fright.
‘Oh my goodness,’ she said, ‘you made me jump…Oh my god; your eyes are black…are you okay?’
Nephthys grinned and when Mrs Leighbourne saw her misshapen teeth, she caught her breath in fright.
‘Who are you?’ she gasped. ‘What are you? Oh my god, somebody help, please, anybody…’
Before she could say any more, Nephthys grabbed her by the hair and yanked the old woman’s head backwards to expose her throat.
‘Rejoice,’ snarled Nephthys, ‘for your blood sustains a goddess.’
In front of the screen, Samari gagged as Nephthys sank her teeth into the old woman’s throat and tore away the flesh over her jugular vein. The old woman’s eyes widened in horror and a feeble cry of pain was drowned out by gurgling, as blood poured down her wind pipe. Immediately, Nephthys covered the severed artery with her mouth and hungrily sucked on a human’s pumping blood, the first time she had done so for over three thousand years.
----
Samari stared at the screen in morbid fascination as Nephthys drained the old woman of blood. But if he thought that was bad enough, he was sadly mistaken. As soon as she had drained the body, she seemed to explode in a fit of rage and tore the old woman’s body apart. At first, she used her teeth to tear through the soft belly and then used her sharp claws to rip open the flesh to expose the inner organs. Samari was horrified as she pulled out the liver and kidneys and took bites out of each in turn before placing them to one side and delving into the corpse once more. Horror after horror followed and within moments, the entire contents of the lower body were strewn across the floor and she tore frantically at the body before ramming her hand up into the chest cavity to reach the ultimate prize. With a flourish she pulled out the heart and stood up cradling it in both hands. Finally she faced the screen once more, drenched in blood, and though Samari knew all this had happened many hours earlier, it seemed she was addressing him directly.
‘Behold my power, body-less demons,’ she said, ‘for such is the fate of all men.’ She lifted up the old woman’s heart to her mouth and ripped apart the blood-rich meat.
----
Samari turned off the recording and stared at the girl in the cell. There was no trace of the carnage of earlier that day, but there was no mistaking that she looked different, somehow healthier. For the next half hour, he sat there experiencing all sorts of emotions ranging from revulsion and hatred to pity and forgiveness. What he had just witnessed, more or less proved that she was indeed some sort of creature far removed from the human race, and indeed, meant that all the suppositions about immortality were probably true. If that was the case, what she had said earlier in the day was also probably true. She did know what lay beyond the grave and was also probably telling the truth about the last resting place of Khufu.
When he had come down to the cells, he had done so with every i
ntention of trying to release the girl and whilst he knew the location of the tomb was probably a stretch of the imagination; he knew the tales she could tell about everyday Egyptian life would probably enthral him for the rest of his life. However, having seen the carnage that she had wreaked on Mrs Leighbourne, he knew that idea was no longer an option.
Despite the horror he had just witnessed, however, he also felt a pang of sympathy for the girl. She hadn’t asked for this. It wasn’t her fault she was as she was. She had been torn from somewhere that was intended to be her last resting place, dragged into a time she knew nothing about, thousands of miles from where she was born. Despite the knowledge she may hold, Samari knew that there was no way she would ever survive in the world as it was today. All around him Samari could see nothing but outcomes involving pain, despair and horror. The lives of thousands revolved around the ultimate destiny of this strange young woman and no matter which way he looked at it, there seemed no happy ending to the predicament. As much as he would have loved to spend the rest of his life talking to this living history book, he knew he couldn’t take the risk. The world couldn’t take the risk. With a heavy heart, he left the auditorium, knowing exactly what he had to do.
----
An hour later he entered the laboratory for the last time, this time carrying a holdall.
‘Hello, Doctor Samari,’ said the technician, ‘back again?’
‘Yes, not for long though.’
‘No problem,’ said Larry, ‘go on through.’
‘Larry, there’s something wrong with the lift,’ said Samari, ‘I couldn’t get it to work, so I came down the stairwell.’
‘That bloody lift is a pain,’ said Larry. ‘I’ll take a look.’
He left his chair and walked through the door into the corridor beyond. Samari slammed the door behind him and threw the bolt to lock him out. He reached into the holdall and retrieving the full petrol can that he had stolen from one of the garages, walked into the auditorium and down to the doors to the cell.
----
Nephthys heard a clunk and looked toward the door. Usually, the little yellow sun flashed before the mortals came in this strange place, but this time, someone was coming unannounced. She heard the second clunk and the inner door opened.
