Of Light and Darkness: The Vampire's Daughter

Regime palace to be drawn and quartered, washed clean of the blood they had so unrighteously absconded from the unknowing human race.

The repented blood dyed the stony floors red, filled the small, dingy rooms with the stench of rust. It was the Wizards’ way of making sure every drop the Vampires had taken was paid back before their dismantled pieces were burned to ashes by the bright morning light.

Now the Regime leaders watched with placid faces while the large chunks of lavender flesh turned orange and then brown as thick, gunmetal smoke billowed up to a slated, marble sky. Horrible heart-wrenching screams could be heard from the pieces that still contained whole heads, which provided the distant satisfaction to one — Vladislov — who sat more stoic than the rest atop the amphitheatre against the strange misting, silver rain.

The smell that wafted through the audience of creatures was foul, like the burning flesh of a thousand bodies, fused with brimstone. It caused the audience to distort their otherwise satisfied visages.

Once the chunks of monsters had been reduced to ash and soot and everyone had left back to their various Occults, faces stained with air-born residuum, Vladislov ordered the courtyard to be swept and shined before the next group was captured that night.

As the High Wizards skulked back to their quarters, Kazimir came up to congratulate his elder brother.

“Vladislov, that truly was a vision today!” His voice rang out through the winding, obelisk halls. “I’m so happy to see justice finally being served, and we can forever rid ourselves from the lowest of all lowly creatures that ever did escape the gates of Hell.”

The two brothers chortled as their heavy voices bounced off the cold walls, though Vladislov’s laughter was just a bit more hollow.

“Did you know in the Americas, the legend of the Vampire is actually revered among the humans? It is… entertaining to them!” He scoffed.

“They are a jaded type of people, brother. But don’t worry. Soon that will all end.” Kazimir put his hand on his brother’s jagged shoulder as the two disappeared down the corridor.

Tomorrow, it would be another group of these sub-creatures too unfit to walk the mortal Earth. It would be another pillar of smoke. Another thousand screams. And the next day, the same thing was to follow. And the next. And the next.

* * *

Something hard snapped in Charlotte’s jaw as she finally began to drift from the hazy blackness that had taken her consciousness captive. She was not sure where she was, how long she had been there, or even how she got there. But when her eyes fluttered open, she was struck with confusion about the unfamiliar, dismal room with stony walls and crooked pipes hanging raggedly from the ceiling.

The tops of the walls dripped with a deathly sort of fuming condensation. Thick smoke filtered in through barred windows — merely carved holes in the East walls. But it didn’t matter. What mattered was Valek.

Gingerly, she turned over so her belly was on the crypt floor; she realized the agonizing pain that jolted from her ribs to her head. She whimpered, sucking in the thick, polluted air, just to cough it back up again. She heaved against the cold dirty ground, when something warm and slick oozed down one side of her face. The gash on her head throbbed when she touched it.

Low hissing wafted through the haze from the back of the dungeon. The sound was soft, but it soon grew layers of various tendrils that altered in pitch, reaching out like claws that tore at her attention.

Charlotte blinked feverishly to stop the place from spinning. Several shadowy figures, glaring eyes that reflected off the light like a cat’s, began to creep from their hiding places against the dank bricks. Their hands distorted into claws as they started to slink toward her, their silhouettes human-shaped.

Hiss.

The noise spiraled again through the blinding smog and made it impossible for her to breathe. She struggled to see the figures approaching her through the clouds. She heard the sound coming from over her then, and could see even more of the dark things crouching on the steel piping above her; their faces slightly illuminated by the waning daylight.

“Good evening,” one hissed at her, as the setting sun twinkled off something within its devilish mouth. A fang.

“Vampires,” Charlotte mused, almost too silent to hear.

“There is nothing left to feed on.” A female sighed from the back of the room.

Charlotte’s heart slammed against her chest. The wound on her head pounded as the room started to gain focus.

There were seven. No. At least ten — all advancing toward her. She searched the faces, but to her gut- wrenching dismay, none of them belonged to him.

“Valek.” The word slipped from behind her lips. She meant to call it. She meant to scream out for him, but the sound came out a whimper.

One mocked her and the rest started to laugh as she scuffled backward against one of the walls. She was a caged mouse with a family of snakes.

The hissing grew louder as the shadows pursued.

“Don’t you know what’s going on, stupid girl?” the first one snapped from a pipe above her. “Don’t you know why you’re here?”

Charlotte gaped at him. Her nerves were like live electric wires, jolting her body into numbness.

“Us?” he hissed again. “We are here for our sins. And you? You’re our last supper.” He grinned and let out a maniacal laugh as he and two others leapt like felines from the rafters to join the group on the floor.

“I don’t understand,” Charlotte cried. “Where am I?”

But they only laughed at the putrid smell of her fear. The moon had crept into the sky, glinted off each and every silvery fang as they grinned at her.

She shielded herself with her arms. One lifted his claw to the silver night before striking her with it, staining one white cheek with pulsing red that dripped to the floor. She cried out in agony as her hair fell in her face, clinging to the wound. It ran like hot water down frosted glass, and the hissing grew louder.

Another one tore off her shirt, exposing her bruised skin to the icy undercurrent. One of their talons made one long slit along the other side of her neck, tears mixed with blood seeped to the center of her chest.

One of the creatures leaned in, too close to her face and whispered so low she struggled to hear.

“Please know, Charlotte, we were never this gruesome. But if we are to be punished…then we might as well deserve it.” He turned only his head to look at the rest of them. “Drain it. All of it.”

Charlotte’s scream fused with their animal cries as they lunged at her, tearing her skin open, spilling her life. Their cold lips fixed all over her body. She opened her mouth in wretched suffering, unable to tell if she was even relinquishing a sound.

* * *

Valek sat, alone with his wild thoughts, in a separate cell all the way down the cold, stony corridor. The only thing he could see in his mind was Charlotte’s face as the guards carried her away, her big eyes fixated on him as they dragged her through the dirt. It was the same way she had first looked up at him the night they met in Prague. Alone. Afraid. He touched the side of his face, scarred, like cracked marble.

Sounds from what seemed like kilometers away bounced off the quartz protruding from the moss-encrusted brick and echoed through his ears. A bloodletting. He heard the hissing, smelled the fear and the blood. It was all too familiar. He sighed with his face in his hands. Poor, sad individual, whoever it was.

That was when he heard something that was also too familiar. Sickeningly familiar. His organs crawled up his esophagus when he heard it.

Her scream echoed down the stone hall and shattered him. Her thoughts bounced off the stalagmites into his mind, and he saw his own face reflected back to him. Her blood was the smell wafting through the thick air. Blood that was hers and only hers. Life that was hers and only hers.

Valek sprung to the edge of his cell and wrapped his hands around the frosted bars. He ripped at them, pleading with all his might for them to bend. He pulled and stretched, to no avail.

Then, he heard his name called out down the lonely passage. She wailed for him. He mirrored the action.