by K. M. Ashman
‘Where are you going?’ asked Becky.
‘I have to go in there,’ he said, ‘see if I can help anyone.’
‘But the murderer may be in there,’ whispered Becky.
‘It’s a risk that I have to take;’ said John, ‘if there is a fire, there may be people trapped.’
‘But John…’
‘Becky, the people here are old and they will need all the help they can get. You call the emergency services and set off the fire alarm. We need to alert anyone else in this building that there is a fire. Anyone that comes running, tell them to get out onto the lawn. Help them as much as you can, but do not come back in here, do you understand?’
‘But John…’
‘Becky,’ shouted John, ‘we are wasting time. I’ll be fine. If I think it’s getting out of hand, I’ll get out, now move!’
She watched him turn and trot down the corridor. Wisps of smoke were creeping along the ceiling and the screams of people calling for help were getting louder. She turned and scanned the walls of the foyer, looking for a fire alarm break glass. A red box next to the fire exit caught her eye and she ran over before hitting it with the palm of her hand. She looked up in expectation, but the foyer stayed silent. Again, she pressed the button behind the broken glass, but the alarm didn’t sound.
‘Damn,’ she thought, ‘Of all the times to be a fault.’ She knew there had to be a control panel close and ran into the office behind the reception desk. The fire panel was instantly visible on the back wall and she reached up to turn the switch from automatic to manual, but was horrified to find it locked in the ‘silence alarms’ position. Becky was getting frantic with frustration and knew she had to do something, but first, she needed to call the emergency services. She put her hand in her pocket for her mobile and stopped dead in her tracks when she realised it was missing. She checked all her pockets over and over again, but when she finally realised she must have lost it when she fell in the flower borders, she ran to the reception desk to use the landline. She picked up the phone and her anger finally erupted when she realised the line was dead.
‘For God’s sake,’ she screamed, ‘doesn’t anything work around here?’
Becky looked around in panic. She knew that if she couldn’t raise the alarm, then many more people could be at risk. There was no way of contacting the emergency services at the moment, so her focus had to be on the people still in the building. John was right, it was pointless going into the smoke filled corridor after him, and she had to concentrate on the others. She ran to the door opposite the one where John had disappeared and walked inside. ‘At least the lights work,’ she mumbled to herself and walked along the corridor.
‘Hello,’ she called, ‘anyone here?’
When again, there was no answer, she tried some of the side rooms. All were more or less the same, and set out in the manner of an upmarket hotel suite. All were immaculately clean and every bed looked fresh, as if it had just been made.
She tried a few more rooms before focussing on the door at the end of the corridor. ‘Day Room,’ said the sign, and Becky sped up, hoping that there would be someone in there to help. By the time she got to the door, she was almost running, and throwing the door open, she virtually fell into the room.
Immediately, she straightened up and stared at the scene before her. Her head turned slowly, taking in every morbid, soul destroying detail and when she finally remembered to breathe, it was for one reason only; to scream!
----
John coughed as he ran along the corridor. The smoke was getting worse and seemed to be coming from a side stairwell leading down from the main corridor, but the screams were coming from the rooms to his front. He tried the door, but found it locked.
‘Hello,’ he shouted, ‘who’s in there?’
‘Oh, thank god,’ said a man’s voice, ‘There’s someone here. Can you open the door? There are twelve of us in here and some are very sick.’
‘Why are you locked in?’ asked John.
‘Matron brought us,’ said the man. ‘She seemed very scared and said it was for our own safety.’
‘Scared of what?’ asked John.
‘She didn’t say,’ said the man. ‘Please, you have to get us out. The room is filling with smoke.’
‘I can’t,’ shouted John, and glanced back over his shoulder. The smoke was now billowing into the corridor and he could see the reflection of flames on the ceiling. ‘Where’s the key?’
‘Matron has it, ask her.’
‘I don’t know where she is,’ said John. ‘Is there a spare anywhere?’
‘I don’t think so…oh, hang on. I have just been told there’s one in her office. It’s back up the corridor, third door on the right.’
John looked up at the old door in front of him. It was solid oak and he knew there was no way he could barge it down.
‘Okay,’ he shouted, ‘I’m going to get the key. I’ll be as quick as I can, try to stay calm.’
‘Please hurry,’ said the man.
John turned and, crouching low, ran back along the corridor, coughing violently as he did. He passed the burning stairwell, found the office marked ‘Matron’ and breathing a sigh of relief to find it open, hurriedly stepped inside, before stopping dead in his tracks, confused at the scene before him.
The office was smoke free and lying on the floor in the centre, was the body of a portly woman in a dark blue nurse’s uniform. Kneeling beside her, with her back toward him, was the figure of a young woman dressed in what seemed to be a dirty white nightdress.
‘What’s going on?’ stuttered John. ‘Who are you?’
The woman’s head lifted sharply and she got slowly to her feet without turning.
‘What human dares to approach Nephthys unannounced?’ she snarled in Egyptian.
‘What?’ gasped John, momentarily thrown by the change of language. He thought quickly before speaking again, this time in Egyptian. ‘Who are you?’ he asked, ‘and what is happening here?’
Nephthys turned around to face him and as she did, his face fell as he took in the full horror before him.
The girl’s hair was mostly burnt away and the flesh was hanging from her scull in charred sheets. Her face was burnt and one eye socket completely empty, though the other was filled with a red-black depth he had never seen before. The lips had been burned away, revealing two rows of jagged teeth, still dripping with the blood of the nurse, now dead at her feet.
‘You speak the language of the kings;’ hissed Nephthys, ‘yet you are dressed as the demons that make flames from air.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said John. ‘Who are you?’
‘I am Nephthys, daughter of Sekhmet, nightwalker of Kemet and I have returned to take my rightful place amongst you mortals: to farm you, to enslave you and to feed on your blood.’
‘Oh, my god,’ said John, ‘that can’t be true. It is impossible’.
‘I tell the truth, mortal,’ said Nephthys. ‘Let not these wounds fool you, for I will soon recover, and when I do, I will wreak my revenge across your lands like a desert storm. No one will be safe. I will create sisters in my form and men will lose their souls to provide servitude to my name.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ said John. ‘I am a man of knowledge and I know that this can’t be. You are not of Egypt. You are a sick woman who needs help. I can provide that help, but first we must save the old people from the fire.’
‘Your words are as empty as those of Ramesses and I will fall for them, no longer. I will let my blood run through your veins, and you will become the undead, with no thoughts and no memories. Such is the fate of man. I am Nephthys, daughter of Sekhmet and defiler of Amenemhat’s corpse. Behold me, human, for I am eternal.’
‘Amenemhat,’ stuttered John, thinking furiously. ‘I was in his tomb, but a few weeks ago. What would you know about his defiled corpse?’
‘It was I who ripped him from his perceived security.’ said Nephthys, ‘and I, who tore his body apa
rt in retribution for his false tongue.’
John was astonished. Apart from Samari’s people, no one except him and Becky knew anything about the damaged remains of Amenemhat back in the hidden tomb in Itjawi.
‘But you can’t be,’ said John. ‘There was only the one body there, the corpse in the sarcophagus, unless of course…’ He stopped talking and stared at her.
‘You can’t be,’ he said, ‘it’s impossible.’
‘His mortuary became my resting place for more years than I have numbers, mortal. For time untold, I waited, unnourished in the dark. At first, we fed on the one human Ramesses left us, but when he was gone, we fed on each other until we could go on no further. Finally, Sekhmet gave me the ultimate sacrifice and for an age, I fed on her while she withered away, and even as I chewed on her bones, I knew she was conscious and with me always. Since that time, I have waited for this day and while I do not know your magic, mortal, I will prevail. All who stand before me will fall to my hunger or serve as undead.’
‘I don’t believe it,’ said John.
‘That is your species’ problem, human, you never believe. I am Nephthys and I am immortal. Soon your blood will feed my veins, and then you will know the truth.’
‘Wait,’ said John, delving into his pocket, ‘If what you say is indeed true, answer me one question, so I will indeed know the truth of your words.’
Nephthys paused.
‘Play your game, Mortal, but it will not save you.’
‘If you are who you say you are, then tell me what this is.’ He pulled out the chain and bejewelled Ankh he had stolen from the tomb of Amenemhat.
Nephthys was visually shaken and her gaze swept back and forth, from the Ankh to John’s face several times, before she spoke again.
‘It is the symbol of Amenemhat,’ she said, ‘and it was buried with him within the labyrinths of Itjawi. Give it to me, human. I will wear it in my new realm, so his spirit will always know our kind prevailed and his memory is only kept alive by the whim of the nightwalkers. It will be a fitting curse on his memory.’
John still wasn’t convinced, but as she lifted her hand to take the necklace, he saw the final proof. The index finger on her left hand was missing, and he knew it was the one that had been removed by Becky’s father. Somehow, despite all his training and everything he had ever believed in, he finally accepted that this creature was the corpse from Amenemhat’s tomb.
‘Oh my god,’ he said, ‘then it’s true, you are a vampire.’
‘I do not know this word. I am a nightwalker and I will feed on the blood of mankind as will the many sisters that I will create. Give me the necklace, human, and I will make your death quick.’
‘You want it,’ he said, ‘you get it.’ He threw the necklace across the room.
Though she was momentarily distracted, Nephthys didn’t move from where she was standing, but John took the opportunity to run out into the smoke filled corridor. The fire was raging throughout the corridor now and totally blocked off the route to the room with the trapped people.
‘Shit,’ he shouted, and stumbled through the smoke toward the foyer, hardly able to breathe for the swirling black smoke.
----
The dayroom in front of Becky was a scene of carnage. Everywhere she looked, bodies had been torn apart, and lying in the grotesque poses that violent death often brought. Blood dripped from the ceiling and countless rivulets had congealed on the walls where they had run freely only half an hour earlier. Two severed heads stared up at her from the floor, their terrifying eyes accusing her, as if to say, ‘Where were you?’
The carnage was unbelievable and the fact that every victim had been very old, and thus unable to defend themselves, made the whole scenario even more horrific. But the more she stared at the bodies, the more she realised that most, if not all, had had their throats ripped out. Fighting the need to be sick, she clamped her hand over her mouth and with tears running down her face, ran back to the foyer, and straight into the arms of Adrian Montague.
----
‘Becky,’ he gasped, ‘what are you doing here? Are you okay?’
‘Mr Montague,’ she sobbed, ‘something awful is happening, the building is on fire and there are dozens of people dead.’
‘Dead,’ he gasped, ‘where?’
‘Up that corridor,’ she sobbed, and Montague turned to the man at his side.
‘Go and check,’ he said.
The second man ran up the corridor and checked the room. Within seconds she had returned.
‘She’s right,’ he said. ‘It looks like a lion has been let loose in there. What happened?’
‘I don’t know,’ sobbed Becky, ‘but you need to call the police.’
Montague nodded to the man, who pulled out his mobile to make the call.
‘John,’ shouted Becky suddenly, ‘where’s John?’
As if on cue, John came stumbling out of the smoke filled corridor opposite, coughing and spluttering as he gasped for breath.
‘John,’ shouted Becky, and ran across to grab him.
For a minute, he gasped for air before standing upright, the oxygen at last reaching his scorched lungs.
‘John, there’s a room full of murdered people along the corridor. I don’t know what’s going on.’
‘I do,’ gasped John, ‘Nephthys is here; the mummy from Itjawi. It’s all true, Becky. The blood tests, your father’s concerns, it all fits. They have managed to bring back the dead. She is in there as we speak and she feeds on blood. Amy was right, Becky, she is a vampire.’
Becky’s face fell.
‘John, you don’t know what you’re saying,’ she said. ‘There are no such things as vampires. I know something awful has happened, but you have to pull yourself together.’
‘Becky, I saw her with my own eyes, I spoke to her for heaven’s sake. She told me herself, she has spent the last three thousand years in that tomb and now she wants vengeance.’
‘Look,’ interrupted Montague, ‘I don’t know what all this is about, but you are obviously mistaken. The first thing we have to do is fight this fire; we may be able to stop it in its tracks.’
‘Why aren’t you listening to me?’ screamed John. ‘The place is an inferno back there. We have to go around the outside and break the windows.’
‘Why?’ asked Becky.
‘There are people still trapped,’ he said. ‘This whole house is going up, but we may be able to break the windows and get them out.’
They started toward the door, but before he reached it, it was slammed shut by the second man who turned around with a gun.
‘Nobody’s going anywhere,’ he said.
‘What are you doing?’ asked John. ‘Get out of my way.’
‘Mr Leatherman is right,’ said Montague. ‘There are things at risk here that are far more important than the lives of a couple of people who will be dead in a few years anyway.’
‘You can’t just leave them to burn,’ screamed Becky.
‘It’s too late,’ said Leatherman. ‘People have seen too much. It’s better this way. Let the building burn.
Becky stared at Leatherman as realisation sunk in.
‘Oh my god,’ she said, ‘it was you.’
‘I have no idea what you are talking about,’ said Leatherman.
‘The fire alarms. You disabled them and disconnected the phones. It was deliberate so nobody could call the emergency services.’
‘It’s better this way,’ said Leatherman, ‘at least the fire will hide her handiwork.’
‘Her handiwork?’ asked Becky. ‘Who are you on about?’
‘Nephthys,’ said Leatherman.
‘You mean it’s true?’ gasped Becky.
‘I saw it with my own eyes,’ said John. ‘Now we need to get those people out and then deal with her before she escapes.’
‘I don’t care if she escapes,’ said Leatherman, ‘I’ll have her back by morning.’
‘And how do you intend to do that?’ asked J
ohn.
‘Easy,’ he said, ‘we have her chipped. Just like a dog; but this chip can be picked up by satellite. We had it done on the way over from Egypt. She is a valuable commodity, and we wouldn’t want to lose her, would we?’
‘You are sick,’ said John, ‘look; we still have time to help those people. Please, let me go out and help them,’
‘Too late,’ said Leatherman, and his gaze went from John’s face to focus on something on the other side of the foyer.
John turned around and was horrified to see Nephthys emerge from the smoke to stand just behind Becky. Her ragged nightdress was smouldering and her whole body was covered in blood. Everything seemed to move in slow motion for John, and as the vampire’s clawed hands reached out to grab Becky, he launched himself forward, using his momentum to drive the creature back through the door into the burning corridor.
Becky turned around and screamed as she saw him disappear into the flames, and though she struggled to release herself, Montague held her tight.
‘It’s too late,’ he shouted. ‘He’s gone. Now, we have to get out of here.’
‘Nooo,’ screamed Becky, and as Leatherman opened the door, she fainted into Montague’s arms.
----
Two minutes later, the two men were out on the lawn, watching the flames spread from floor to floor.
‘What now?’ asked Leatherman.
‘Have you called the emergency services?’ asked Montague.
‘Not yet.’
‘Give it another ten minutes,’ he said, ‘and put the call in. By the time the fire brigade gets here, it will be an inferno.’
‘What about Nephthys?’ asked Montague.
‘Best we can hope for is that she escaped. If not, hopefully we can salvage some fragment of her flesh and see what the scientists can do.’
‘What about her?’ asked Leatherman, nodding toward the unconscious form of Becky on the ground.
‘Don’t worry about her; I’ll take her with me. We have some special medication that will help her forget. In a couple of months, all this will be yesterday’s news, and when that happens, we start again. Now, you wait here for the police. I’ve made a few calls and the guy coming is one of us, so there won’t be too many awkward questions. But if anyone does ask, I wasn’t here.’
