Blood of the Gods (The Vampire from Hell Part 5) (13 page)

The Walking Dead (Rayea)

***

“
I don't think anyone wants to cuddle a zombie.
”
~
Norman Reedus

***

When Lynn and Grace returned to the living room, I was overjoyed to see Lynn.  I gave her a huge hug and she started crying.

“I never thought I’d see you again!” she exclaimed.

Grace and I shared a smile and I took Lynn’s hand.  “I’m sorry about Steve.  He was dead when we got here.”

“Oh fuck that idiot.  I’m the moron.  I should never have gone back to him.  He deserves what he got.  I’ve got to call Ashton as soon as I can and tell him about this!”

A knock at the door got our attention.  Lynn jumped, and then spun around to face us.  “That’s Steve’s friend.  He’s gonna see him dead.  What do we do?” she asked.

“Don’t answer the door,” Grace suggested.  “Maybe he’ll go away.”

When the phone rang, Grace and I jerked our heads up.  I motioned for Lynn and Grace both to be quiet.  The answering machine clicked on.

“Hey Steve, this is T.  I’m leaving your case of wine on the top step here.  Bring it in when you get home.  I don’t have your key.  Later.”

The answering machine went silent.

Grace’s eyes widened and she stood paralyzed by Lynn.

“Grace, what’s wrong,” I asked.  She looked like she had seen a ghost.

“T, I know that guy T.  He’s one of the ones.  He’s one of Nathan’s friends who used to cut me up.”

Lynn reached out and hugged her.  “He’s a new friend of Steve’s.  Something about wine some guy has been giving away.”

“What wine?” Grace asked.  She went to the door and retrieved the large box that was outside.

“Steve’s been guzzling it down.  I can’t stand the stuff.  It tastes like ass.”  Lynn snagged a pair of scissors from the kitchen counter as Grace sat the box on the tile counter, next to her.

“Here, I’ll show you the bottle.  It’s a weird looking label.  A laughing skeleton with a top hat.  Something about the devil.  I have no idea where he got this shit.”  Lynn produced a bottle for Grace and handed one to me as well.

I nearly dropped it.  The shock of what I was looking at slammed me in the face.

“Devilish Beasts?  Who names a wine Devilish Beasts?” Grace asked.

When she saw the stunned expression on my face, she knew the answer.

“My father,” I replied.  As I stepped over a few remaining dead snakes on the living room floor, I pointed to the door.  “Let’s get out of here, ladies.  I need to call Blick.”

Suddenly I heard a moan behind me.  The sound sent a chill down my spine.  I glanced over at Lynn and Grace who were equally frozen in their footsteps, inches near the door.  “What’s behind me?” I asked as I paused by the couch and leaned against it.

“Steve,” Lynn whispered.

“That’s not Steve,” Grace uttered.  “That’s Zombie Steve, back from the dead.”

“Get out of here now!” I yelled, falling on the ground because someone or some
thing
had tackled me.

Neither one of them listened to me.  They rushed from the door.  Grace ran into the kitchen and Lynn vanished down the hallway.  I flipped over on my back and faced the creature pinning me to the ground.  Steve with blood pooling in his savage, vacant eyes screeched at me.  He pounded his fists against my chest and groaned loudly as he tried to grab me.  I had seen zombies on television and in the movies before but never anything like this.  His face bubbled and steamed.  The flesh split apart and then sealed itself together again.  Green mucus dripped from his mouth and his eyes spun upwards into his head, one time they blurred white, lifeless, the next time completely black like an alien from the X-Files, and then finally blood red again with the iris showing.  His body seemed to be fighting a transformation of some kind as if it couldn’t decide what ending result it wanted to become.  I thought of the movie, The Thing and fear crept into my heart.  I pushed the fear down.  I was not going to let this creature hurt any of us.  We had to destroy it.

Grace and Lynn slammed Zombie Steve over the head with several objects.  I got hit a time or two with a flying flowerpot and then a book.  Finally, I yelled at them to stop.  “Grace, grab him by the elbows, pull him off of me.  Lynn, get back.  Now!”

They did as I ordered.  Thankfully.  I sighed and evaluated the situation.  Grace held Steve as he thrashed and attempted to lunge towards me.  His face had stopped convulsing.  He seemed obsessed with getting over to me.  He didn’t focus on anyone else but me. 
Great,
I thought.

“You got him?” I asked Grace.

“Yes,” she replied.  “I think he’s weakening.”

“Good,” I said as I walked over to the case of wine.  I retrieved a bottle and waved it at Zombie Steve.  “You want this?”

He roared again, thrashing violently again against Grace.

Quickly I began to figure out what was going on and what my father had unleashed on the world.  He had to be the one behind the production of this wine.

“Lynn, take each one of the wine bottles and throw them over the balcony.  Make sure you smash each one, okay?”

“Got it,” she replied and zoomed over to the counter.

“Grace.”

“Yeah?”

“Rip his arms off.  I’m gonna find some rope to tie around his neck.  We’ll need to burn him in the back alley.”

“Can do!” she exclaimed.

Zombie Steve roared in anguish as Grace applied her foot to his back, pulling his left arm off, and then his right.

I yanked down the curtain rod, unlaced the cord from the drapes, and made a leash for Zombie Steve.

Lynn ran back and forth from the kitchen to the sliding glass door of the balcony.  “This is right out of The Walking Dead,” she sang out.

“The what?” I asked.

Grace laughed as she held Zombie Steve still for me.  “You need to catch up on your television shows, Rayea.  You have missed a lot in the past year.  Hey Lynn, what do you think of Daryl?  Isn’t he hot for a redneck?”

“Oh my god, isn’t he?  That man is my kind of zombie killer!” she laughed.  Lynn’s laughter filled the apartment.  Her voice sounded like a chipmunk when she was elated and totally high on life.  I had always loved to hear Lynn laugh.  With the curtain cord leash, I pulled on Zombie Steve and led him toward the door.  Grace followed, keeping her hands on his neck so he could not bite either of us.

“Hey Rayea, stop a second.  This isn’t going to work.”

“What? I asked Grace as she grabbed the bottom of Zombie Steve’s jaw and pulled it open.  “Punch him right here on the side of his mouth please.”

“Good idea,” I replied when I understood what she wanted me to do.  I slammed my fist into Zombie Steve’s jaw and his mouth busted apart.

“He can’t bite us without a jaw.”

“A trick you learned from watching your zombie show?” I asked as we walked through the door, Zombie Steve in tow.

“Yup,” she replied.  “This won’t look weird at all.”

“What?” I asked as we walked slowly descended the stairs.

“Leading a zombie around on a leash.”

“Great Halloween costume.  Very trendy,” Lynn called down to us.  “Let me pack a few things and I’ll meet you in the alley.”

The Devil’s Reply (Satan)

***

“
If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?
” ~ William Shakespeare

***

I adore it when a plan comes together. A drop of blood from yours truly, add some black magic by Mehen, sprinkle in a few drops of water from the River Styx and you have a sexy little recipe for savage rage.  All bottled up and in your wine cellar as we speak.  Oh yes, things are starting to turn around beautifully now.  I do believe you can say, my bright ideas are not failing me now.  Oh no, I would not say that at all.  Would you?  Some may deny me the satisfaction I seek.  Some fools may do such a stupid thing.  Some may argue my revenge is uncalled for.  Really?  After everything she has said about me in her book!  She said I was an idiot.  She said a plan of mine would never work.  Oh really?  Tsk.  Tsk.  Ye of little faith.  Shame on you, daughter of mine.  She betrayed me like no other.  She vanished to the other side and dared to write about it.  Oh yes, I will tell you what I think about that.  But not now.  That can wait.

I am saddened at this time.  I am grief stricken.  I am defeated.  Fear not, it is only temporary.  I shall rally as I always do.  Who can keep a good demon down these days?  No one.  Certainly not a Vampire from Hell.  How dare she claim that as her title?  How dare she?!

Mehen believed in me.  My dear, sweet Mehen.  Yet Mehen and my child, Stephanie are missing.  Both are not with us as of late.  Why is that?  Who can we blame?  Who can we turn to for answers?  Who is the constant in this equation of my grief?  Who remains still?  Why one person I know quite well.  Dear Rayea.  Soon to be dearly-dead-without-any-chance-of-redemption-or-rebirth-again-dead Rayea.

I will be delighted to see my daughter again, when I do. I know she will be surprised to see me. My mutt/son-in-law-to-be will be surprised as well. I will have to make a grand entrance.  Oh yes, good times ahead. This will be absolutely quaint and divine, utterly adorable.  I can visualize it already.

Others may question my motives, even doubt my intentions too.  My drive may be lacking.  My determination may be suspect.  Perhaps even my intellect is iffy at best.  Doubt me.  That is fine.  I know where you live.  I know who you are.  It’s your folly if you do. Trust me.  Never underestimate that which you do not understand. I know you do not understand me.  How could you?

I underestimated someone once and it nearly destroyed my family. I say nearly. It’s not over yet, not by a long shot.  Will I underestimate my daughter, Rayea again?  Will you help me have my revenge?  I certainly hope you do.  Deny me and it will be your undoing.

Devilish Beasts be with you.  Drink up and be merry.  The dead shall rise.  You deserve an everlasting life of happiness and bliss, one such life that only I can give you.

###

Thank You!

Thank you for reading the latest installment of the Vampire from Hell series.  Please leave a review and share your impressions about Rayea's story.  Visit
www.allythomas.com
for more information or email me at ally at allythomas dot com.  You can also shop at my site and buy a signed paperback of this book or others.  Signed paperbacks are only available through my website.

What is Up Next?

Zombies Unleashed (The Vampire from Hell - Part 6)

The last thing Rayea, the Vampire from Hell needs to worry about is a zombie apocalypse.  In the sixth installment of this series, Rayea realizes contending with creatures forged by her father, Satan may be a reality for her and her friends on Earth.  Go to
www.allythomas.com
to learn more about when this book in the series will be released.

What Book Do You Think Should Be Next?

Go to my website at
http://thevampirefromhell.weebly.com/coming-soon.html
and look at my list of writing projects.  Then email me and tell me which book you’d like to read next!  Title your email: Up Next and you’ll be put in the Up Next Giveaway to win one of my ebooks (one of your choosing).  Email me at ally at allythomas dot com or use the Contact form on my site.

About Fanged Love - The Prequel

In one night, Grace realizes her lover is destined ultimately to be her greatest enemy.  Following Nathan into a world of bloodletting and vampirism was a bad idea and she wants out.  Grace plans to escape the clutches of her controlling boyfriend as she learns he is selling her to the top buyer, a woman he met on the internet called the new Medusa.  Grace’s plan quickly changes when the Angel of Death shows up, telling her she has sent for him.  Will Grace seek salvation in the arms of this stunningly, handsome man known as Demetri?  A few characters you have met in the Vampire from Hell series appear in this new series.

The Prequel

Chapter 1 – Grace’s Decision

If I hadn’t been staring out the windows that lined one side of the Golden Skull bar, I don’t think I would have noticed it was a full moon that night.  The bar was situated at the corner of Clayton and Haight in San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury district.  The moon seemed to be hanging just above the street sign at the intersection.  It was a huge moon, a big glowing ball shoving its way in.

I envisioned an angel flying out of it and whisking me off, far away from Nathan and T who sat across from me at the table, whispering constantly to one another or texting on their phones, essentially ignoring me completely.  My staring out the window was the safest option.  Really it was the only non-threatening thing I could think of doing while we waited.  Nathan had a meeting with a woman he had met on the internet.

I kept my back to the other customers in the bar.  Nathan had instructed me that if I so much as looked at anyone, including Max, my former boss, I’d be in big trouble.  He was convinced I’d try to run for help, but I had a plan instead.  Running was no longer possible.  It was over for me.

“If you so much as look at anyone Grace, I’ll kill em all, especially that loud-mouth old hippy friend of yours.” 
Nathan’s words ricocheted through my brain again.  Luckily it was Max’s bowling night, so maybe he wasn’t around.  On the other hand, Jeremy, his son was another story.  He had probably been left in charge for a few hours.  Hopefully Jeremy wouldn’t stop by to chat with Nathan or flirt with me.  He thought Nathan was so cool, and he told him often how cute his girlfriend with the flowing red hair was.  I did not feel like I was Nathan’s girlfriend anymore.  I felt like I was his slave.

Lately Nathan’s words had been harsh, even hurtful.  Maybe I still felt an ounce of affection towards him despite our chaotic past.  I guess it’s hard to let go of someone, even a person who enjoys victimizing you.  I was becoming numb to his abuse though, slowly but surely numb.

How long ago had it been when we were good friends, then lovers, when we hung out together, just the two of us at the bookstore or library before work, and before he adopted his friends who turned him against me?  It seemed like a lifetime ago.

One night, we had met in a bar, this bar actually.  While attending the San Francisco Art Institute, we both needed a job and thought hanging out in the neighborhood bar would show the owner we were determined to get hired.  Actually the plan had worked.  We had laughed when we discovered we had had the same idea.  I had admired his confidence.  He was so sure of himself, almost to the point of being cocky.  Later it proved to be a trait I found very annoying, especially when his new friends - like T - began stroking his ego.  Nathan wasn’t the same after that.

Max Edwards, the bar owner was a good-hearted soul who went on about the old days in the 60s when Haight-Ashbury, the neighborhood where he had lived and resided, was happening, as he put it.  While I worked the Golden Skull, he’d enjoyed reminiscing about how grand the neighborhood used to be before the punks and freaks moved in.  His words, not mine.  Max did not like many people, but for some reason he had taken me under his wing.

“You’ve got potential, Grace,” Max had told me.  “Your boyfriend, on the other hand, is a loser.  Pure and simple.  Don’t let him drag you down.”

I should have taken Max’s advice because soon after that Nathan dropped out of school and Max fired him.  Getting high and playing video games with his skinhead friends became Nathan’s new past times.  Working at the bar, getting a degree, and avoiding Nathan at all cost became my focus until he sucked me into his plan for a revolution.

It boggled my mind now how I had been so taken with Nathan then.  He had been a tall, lanky, shy guy who dressed mostly in black or dark green hoodies and dark jeans, and rarely talked above a whisper.  He thought it was cool to mumble and act uninterested in most things.  That drove Max crazy, not to mention the customers in the bar who thought he was mentally challenged when he did not pay enough attention to get their orders correct.

Once Nathan was free from his responsibilities, he started cruising around the city with his new friends, experimenting with heavier drugs.  That’s probably when the bloodletting started.  I don’t really know.  I tried to stay busy with work and school, and not ask too many questions.  I should have left him then because Nathan’s appearance and his attitude towards me changed greatly.  He became a bloated, twitchy shell of a man with shifty eyes, a sweaty bald head and matching black tribal earrings.  The kind that sag your ear lobes.  He talked down to me, told me I was too stupid to get a degree, and made fun of me in front of his friends any chance he got.

When I found out he was stealing money from me to buy weed, I knew it was time to walk away.  In fact, I was going to dump him that night when he and his friends jumped me.  His friends had convinced him that he had a better solution for a new world beyond any current political movement.  T and the others puffed Nathan up like a god, gushing on about his wacky theories on vampirism.  They told him he would be their leader and they would recruit people into their army, starting with me.

I still can’t figure out how Nathan became a vampire because to be honest he’s not like any vampire I’ve seen in the movies.  Obviously I haven’t met an actual vampire, so I have little to go on.  According to some popular urban legend floating about on the internet, vampires did exist on Earth at one point, along with werewolves and witches.  But they were all killed off, burned at the stake around the late 1600’s.  It went down in history as the Salem Witch Trials with werewolves and vampires never once being mentioned in the history books.

You may have a few friends who think they are vampires, and that’s fine by me.  As far as I know, vampires don’t exist.  Nor do werewolves, witches, or warlocks.  Heck, now that I think of it, angels don’t exist either.  Wow, that’s a depressing thought.  Anyway as I was saying…

Once he read on the internet that vampires originated in Ancient Greece and anyone with blue eyes was persecuted for being one of the undead, he started reading up on Greek mythology and trying to connect the origin of vampires back to the ancient gods like Zeus, Athena, or Apollo.  There was no stopping him after that.  He became obsessed with it.  Perhaps he figured something out with his bloodletting rituals and the herbal remedies a woman on the internet started sending to him.  He called her a disciple of the ‘True Giver of Life.’  I never hesitated to remind him that the woman’s name was Stephanie.  And she sounded like a nut job.  One time I had insulted him when I asked, “How do you get vampire or true giver of anything out of a girl who calls herself Stephanie?  Wouldn’t she pick a cooler name than Stephanie?  Like imperial wizard or grand dragon maybe?  Get real, Nathan!”

He split my lip over that question and comment, so I visited the care facility, got myself stitched up, and stayed away from him for several weeks.  I decided the idea was so ludicrous, and that Nathan was so sold on it, that it was best to just drop it until I could figure out a way to get away from him for good.  He had flipped for this woman.  Nathan had come up with a notion that the Stephanie chic was some sort of enchanted goddess with special powers, and had a very intense look only few were blessed to witness.  “She’s the real deal.  Listen to me.  She can turn people into vampires, I’m telling you.  She’ll bring this world to its knees someday.  I can’t wait!” he had said, giddy as a school boy.  “She told me she looks just like Medusa from the Greek mythology books.  She calls herself the new Medusa, but she keeps herself hidden under a dark cloak, so she doesn’t draw too much attention to herself when she walks among us.”

Once I heard Medusa, Zeus being a vampire, and this freak ‘walking among us,’ I was finished with Nathan’s nonsense.  I did not want to hear anymore!  I could not persuade him to stop chatting with this woman on the internet.  He was more than fascinated with her.  He was enthralled with her, and I knew I did not want to have anything to do with someone who claimed to look like Medusa.  That was too insane for me!

I’d had enough to last me a lifetime, thanks to what happened to me when Nathan and T jumped me.

Whatever they did to me that night, and I’m not admitting that I want to relive it here now, but according to Nathan, the version he told his friends, my transformation had gone wrong, or it hadn’t been what he had expected.  I was different.  I wasn’t a pure vampire.  I did not have fangs.  I did not drink blood.  Imagine that!  Duh!  I’m not a vampire!

But to hear Nathan tell it, I did not believe this Stephanie person was a disciple of whatever, so I was beneath all of them.  He explained to them that he was being a good Samaritan by selling me off to Stephanie, instead of destroying me.  “Grace will get hers when the world comes to an end.  It’s not up to me,” he had told them.

I really did not think Nathan was a vampire either.  He was a poser, a pretender, wearing blue contact lens and fake fangs, and scaring the general public when he got ‘vamped up’ with the rest of the guys.  He and the others dressed up all the time like they were going to a gothic Halloween party.

If he’d paid attention in his history classes, Nathan would have known that you never underestimate your adversary, especially if she’s a woman.  Maybe he did not consider me his enemy.  I was too weak to be a threat.  Unbeknownst to Nathan, I did acquire a few tricks after that night.  It wasn’t anything I wanted to show to him, or show anyone for that matter.  I wanted to forget it happened.  But I was different, as he said.  I was very different and it scared me, almost as much as Nathan scared me.  I wanted to forget it all together.

The stuff Nathan and his friends shot me up with that night reacted with my blood, my DNA, and brought something out in me that only comes forth during lunar phases of the full moon.  I won’t use the word, ‘werewolf’ because I don’t think that’s it.  But it’s something related to the moon, maybe even to the Moon Goddess.  I don’t fully understand it.  I guess it doesn’t matter anyway.  I have a way to fix everything now.  I have a better solution, one I know is the smarter way out of this excuse I have for a life.

Chapter 2 – Flaming Skull

Author’s Note: This chapter is told from Grace, the heroine’s point of view.

I shifted in my chair, hoping a move would alleviate some of the pain.  I glanced quickly at Nathan and T, and then resumed watching the moon.

Knowing that the Moon Goddess was gazing upon me brought a great deal of comfort as I sat there with those bozos.  I felt connected to her somehow, and I felt she would understand why I was letting go.  I wouldn’t be asking for anyone’s help, or hoping some knight in shining armor would show up in the bar and rescue me.  I knew the only angel who may come for me, if that sort of thing happened, would be the Angel of Death.  Realizing how absurd that sounded, I glanced over at Nathan and T.

“What time did she say she’d meet us again, Nathan?” T asked.  T’s voice startled me as I heard him ask Nathan a question.  His voice seemed hazy and far away from me.

“I don’t know why she’s not here yet.  Something is wrong.  I can sense it,” Nathan replied.

Lowering my head, I leaned forward slightly in my chair and rested one elbow on the table while gripping my stomach with the other hand.  Something was amidst in the Nathan plan, I mused.  “What?  The internet chic wasn’t showing up to buy me like a pair of shoes?”  I thought to myself and let a smile flash across my face as I buried my face in the crook of my arm.

“She’ll be here,” Nathan assured T.

“You don’t think she’ll send the church lady instead, do you?”

When I realized both guys had paused in their conversation, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that they remained staring at each other for several minutes. 
Jesus, who was the church lady?

“She’ll send one of her guys.  I’m sure.  It’ll work out.  Have a little faith.  Besides the church lady is too busy.” Nathan announced in his polite, yet commanding tone I recognized only too well.

“That reminds me.  You need to tell me about the ceremony again.  I don’t think I understand what I’m supposed to do,” T added.

“What’s to understand?” Nathan snapped.  “Stephanie has requested I select someone I know and trust to be our volunteer.  You’re it.”

“You mean I’m to be a sacrifice, right?”

I grew still when I heard the word ‘sacrifice.’  That did not sound good for T.

Impatiently, Nathan slammed his beer mug on the table.

The thud scared me and I jumped, then looked around apprehensively.  Nathan ignored my movement.  Quickly I busied myself with reading a few names carved into the top of the wooden table.  Then I returned to staring at the moon.

“Yes, yes, if you want to put it that way,” Nathan replied.  “So?  Don’t you realize you’ll be a martyr for the revolution?  We need a volunteer, T.  I can’t randomly pick someone off the street.

“Why not?!” T shrieked.  “I won’t do it!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nathan yank T by the arm, pulling him closer.  His lips twisted and he snarled at T.  “Sure.  Fine.  You want me to tell her that?  You want to disappoint the church lady?  Hmm?”

I held my breath and shifted my gaze to an empty spot on the table where I would have been served a beer, if I’d been brave enough to ask for one.

T mumbled a few words I could not understand.  A few moments later, he let out a short laugh and replied, “No, it’s okay, man.  I did not mean anything by it.  Dying for the revolution is fine by me!”