C.O.T.V.H. (Book 1): Creation (23 page)

When he was sure that no one was around, he made his way to the basement’s entrance. Popping the rest of his sandwich into his mouth, he pressed his right ear up against the door to make sure no one else was down there. Carefully he made his way down the stairs. A terrible burning smell filled his nostrils. It reminded him of burnt bacon with a strange sulfur smell mixed in. Jake covered his nose and mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. His eyes watered.

At the bottom of the stairs Jake was more than a little surprised to see the room flooded with the midday’s sunlight. It poured in through small six-inch slits in the wall at the top of the ceiling. A tiny moan was coming from the Maker’s prison. Jake crept to the hole and peered in. The Maker was curled up in a fetal position in the corner of the room, his skin an ashy black. “My God.” Jake whispered his hand going to his mouth in shock.

“
Vampire?” he called out softly. The Maker didn’t respond. His body writhed in pain as chunks of flesh fell from his charred back, revealing large spots of black blood, which also turned to ash.

“
Vampire?” Jake called again slightly louder. Again, the Maker was unable to respond. Jake stepped away from the hole, his stomach threatening to give up his peanut butter sandwich.
How could anyone torture another creature to this extent on a daily basis?
Even a vampire deserves better than this.

Feeling sick to his stomach, Jake ran back upstairs. He was shaken beyond words. The dismembered body of Marty White burning to ashes in front of him was bad enough, but to see a living creature writhing in so much pain as it was literally cooked from the outside in was more than Jake’s nerves could handle. Coming to the first open container he could find, a large antique vase, Jake emptied the contents of his stomach into it. The smell of that poor creature’s burning flesh wouldn’t leave his nostrils. He vomited again and again until only the taste of bile erupted into his mouth.

Ten minutes later, he sat in the library his stomach empty and in knots. Mr. Orwell returned from his own lunch with a yellowed paperback in his hand. “Well then, let us continue . . . My Lord in heaven child what has happened to you!” He exclaimed. “You are white as a sheet!”

“
I don’t feel so good.” Jake said, meaning every word of it.

“
I should say so!” he said, coming forward and placing his hand gently on Jake’s forehead. “You are clammy young man. Are you ill?”

“
Yeah.” Jake said, laying his head on the table.

“
Well that’s enough for today then. Return to your room, I will inform Paul.”

“
No!” Jake exclaimed sitting up. “Please don’t.”

“
I must young man. You are clearly ill.”

“
I’m okay really.” Jake said, gathering himself. Paul’s full attention was the last thing he needed. “Please Mr. Orwell! Don’t tell him!”

His eyes went soft as he laid a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Very well lad. Get yourself upstairs and get some rest. I will tell Paul that your lessons ended early today.”

“
Thank you Mr. Orwell.” Jake stammered. Kindness was something he wasn’t used to expecting in his grandfather’s house. Slowly Jake traversed the stairs one by one.

The rest of that afternoon, he sat alone in his room, the image of the burning body of the vampire running through his brain. At dinner, he barely even touched his food. For the first time since arriving, he didn’t notice the old man’s stare fixed squarely on him.

Hours later, shortly after midnight, Jake once again made his journey downstairs. He crept back into the basement expecting to find a pile of blackened bones and ash just as Marty White had been when the sunlight ripped through his remains. Instead the Maker was whistling. Only a slight whiff of his charred flesh remained in the air.

"Good evening my young friend."  The vampire called out to him.

Jake made it to the bottom of the stairs and glanced through the hole. The Maker sat cross-legged on the floor, his flesh completely restored. He smiled as Jake looked in at him. "You’re okay!” Jake exclaimed.

“
Well of course I am.” The vampire chuckled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“
I saw you!” Jake blurted out. “I felt bad for not coming last night so I came this afternoon and . . . and I saw you burning!”

The vampire’s eyes pulsed an angry red. Jake stepped away from the hole backing up to the opposite wall. “You should not have witnessed that.” He said, his voice dripping with anger.

“
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to!” Jake blurted out his body filling with fear.

The Maker took several deep breaths. “Fear not young man, as I told you before I could not hurt you even if I was inclined to do so. You must give me your word to never do that again. I do not wish to be seen in such a state. All I have left is my pride.”

Not wanting to anger him further, Jake gladly agreed. “I promise. I’m really sorry.”

“
Think nothing of it.”

“
Does it hurt?” Jake asked stepping away from the wall.

“
Like you cannot imagine,” he said, softly. “I feel every second of it. My body is incapable of sleep. Therefore, I cannot pass out. Which really is quite inconvenient. But let us put the ordeal behind us.”

“
Okay.” Jake said, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"I must admit, I am quite glad you came back.  I have so little to look forward to."

"Well, to be honest I've been looking forward to this as well.” Jake said, uncertain if he should tell him this, but his nervousness wouldn’t let him stop.  “The only other person I get to talk to is a tutor named Mr. Orwell. He’s nice enough compared to Paul and my grandfather. But he rambles on and on about the Roman Empire! You'd think he'd actually lived there!"

“
Indeed?” The Vampire chuckled.  "The Roman Empire?"

"Yeah.  I hate it here!  I wish my Grandpa and Dad would come get me.  Grandpa said it would just be a few days, it's been over a month now."

"Well I am sure if they could be here they would be.  You would be surprised what a grandfather would do for his grandson."  The vampire said, sadly.  "Tell me about your family.  I have not seen my own in so very long."

Therefore, Jake told him about his dad, his grandpa and some of their strange habits.  About his mom and how much he missed the smell of her perfume. He didn’t know why he told him.  Part of him just wanted a friend, someone to confide in. It had been a long time since he had had someone to talk too. Not since he had been torn away from his life in Midland nearly a year before. He knew he couldn’t trust the vampire, not really, so he kept his family history and their employment a secret. He felt he could speak in confidence to this vampire. No names were ever given and the vampire never asked. The vampire listened to it all, asking questions now and then but overall being a very patient confidant.  Before Jake knew it, it was nearly four am and he had to go back upstairs. 

The next night he was back again, and again his new vampire friend was glad to have him.  That night Jake decided to ask the questions. "Do you want to eat me?"

The vampire laughed heartily.  "No. Though your blood does smell quite good to me, I would not if given the opportunity feed on you."

"Why not?" 

He laughed again, "Is it not enough that I do not want to?"

"Well yeah, I mean.  I was just wondering." Jake stammered, not even sure himself why he cared to know. It should be enough that he didn’t want to.

"Oh it is alright.  I have lived long enough to learn to control my thirst far better than those younger than I. I must feed daily to stay strong, but I have learned to tame my thirst. I have learned to cherish the hunt. I have even on occasion, when at full strength of course, gone a full nine days without feeding."

"How often do young vampires need to feed?"

"At least once a day.  The thirst really is a terrible curse. It takes centuries to learn how to control it."

"Centuries?  How old are you!"

"At least two thousand years, possibly more.  You tend to lose track after a while."

"Two thousand . . . did you just say two thousand years?!"

"Oh yes.  Two thousand
long
years."

Jake couldn't believe his ears. "You don't look any older than sixty or seventy!"

Again he laughed. "Why thank you!  Yes alas, I was almost eighty when I was turned.  Therefore, that is the age I will forever be.  However, I am much healthier and stronger than even a twenty-year-old human is.  Just not strong, enough to escape this blasted prison. The old corpse has made sure of that.”

"How do you eat?  Does Paul bring you humans?”

"Oh if only!"  He laughed.  "As I told you before, the slave, or rather the servant, brings me my food once daily. Blood contained in very odd bags.  I heard the guards speak of him owning a blood bank once.  Whatever that is.  I cannot imagine one banking in blood.  Unless they were an Immortal perhaps.” He grew quiet as if thinking of such a possibility. “Anyway, that's what the hole in the wall is for.  If not for the blood, I have little doubt that I would be completely sealed in behind it. For a time during the sixteen hundreds I was actually buried alive."

"Why does he keep you here?"

"Why does he keep you here?" he answered Jake’s question with a question.

"Bait."  Jake answered truthfully.

"Bait?"

"Yeah.  He thinks the vampires want me since they wanted my mother.  Therefore, he keeps me here hoping they will come for me and he will convince one of them to turn him into one of you. Or something like that, I’m not exactly sure."

"Using his own grandson, as you put it, bait.  This creature is viler than I had imagined."

"So, I answered your question.  Will you answer mine?"

"He longs to be immortal and believes I can turn him.  He has begged me, threatened me.  He has starved me, tortured me.  Everything imaginable, horrible things that I will not say in front of such young ears, but no matter what he has done to me or threatened to do to me, I have refused.  I will not unleash such a foul creature upon the world as an Immortal again. As a human, he is evil, as an immortal . . . it would be as if releasing the devil himself upon the world. I will burn in the pits of hell before I do such a thing again. Therefore, he keeps me walled up in this prison of iron and brick. At full strength, I could dismantle it with my bare hands. That will never happen. The corpse will not allow it."

"Again? So you’ve made vampires before?" Jake asked.

"Yes. It was long ago.  Another life."

"Tell me about it.  I mean . . . if you want.  I would love to hear it."

"Very well.  If you insist, but you might want to take a seat, it will be a long tale."

"That's okay.  I brought a blanket from my room to keep me off the cold floor."

"Good thinking dear boy, for this is a long tale."

Chapter 12

Jake

The Riker Mansion

May 7, 1995 1:46am

Jake sat cross-legged on his blanket as the vampire began his tale.

"I will not bore you with the tale of my early human years.  To be honest I have trouble recollecting most of them. I have been an immortal far longer than I was ever human. In comparison, those years are little more than a blink of eye. I will tell you that I was once a ruler of a great and powerful nation.  It is my opinion, that history judges me much harsher than I deserve. True at times I was cold, even heartless. Nevertheless, I was fair. I did not learn to the find humor in life until long after my human death.

“
As I grew old in human years I decided I had had enough of the corruption of those around me, always clamoring and positioning to take my seat. A seat I never wanted to begin with. I belonged on the battlefield leading my legions into glory! Not in the dealings with corrupt politicians trying to increase their own wealth! My place was with my men. So shortly after the death of my son, I turned my kingdom over to those I trusted most. Among them was my adopted grandson.  He was a kind young man that seemed to care for the masses a great deal.  Therefore, I left him in my stead and took my leave.

“
Wandering into the wilderness I prepared for death.  It was there that my Maker found me.”  

“
After two weeks alone with nothing but the snow, trees, and the beasts as my companions, I was on the edge of death.  I had not eaten in nearly fifteen days and had gone without water for at least four or five.  I lay there looking up into the bright stars above, praying to the Gods that my legacy be a good one. I had not always been a good man, but I had tried my best to be righteous.  

“
I was at my weakest, mere breaths from death when he found me.  His shrouded form stood over me blocking out the stars.  I remember thinking that he was Pluto, the God of the underworld come to take me for my judgment." The vampire grew quiet for several seconds.

"He was far worse than the God of the underworld.” Again, he paused. “By the Gods he was terrifying!”

Jake leaned forward resting his arms around his knees. “Who was he? I mean did you ever learn his name?”