Outside Hell (8 page)

Then as he’d stood there
and watched the evil coursing its way out of the vampire leader
flowing into rivers of blackness, that were going down deep into
the dirt beneath him as if they were going home, he’d known
instantly that there was a superior being that Rex answered to. And
as time went by he’d found that he was right to. A vampire called
Lucious had told him that there was someone much more powerful.
Their creator, a being of pure evil that stood eight feet tall, had
hideously distended veins pulsing across his face, a pitchfork in
hand, a lashing tail and horribly hooved feet. When he’d asked did
this vile creature have a name, Lucious had told him that he was
called, ‘
SATAN
.’

Only as Dracus with no other choice to save
Eldor had then waited around to meet the son of a bitch, a period
that had unfortunately lasted a hundred years, still he hadn’t seen
him. It was like he was a myth and didn’t really exist, as if
they’d only created his story just to scare the other vampires into
order. Then whilst Dracus was working for Rex and still without
meeting this Satan character, he was given a leather bowman’s tunic
and his first bow. Then after practicing with it and realizing that
‘like hand to glove’ he was a natural with it, Rex had presented
him with a leather quiver full of cursed arrows, and a glove to
touch them with too. Only after learning their evil and keeping
himself as far away and distant from them as he could, fearing that
they might consume him, or even worse, turn him into something of
similar stature to that of Vrakug, he’d finally begun to see how
they might benefit him.

He could fire them into Vrakug when the two
evil creatures were fighting and paralyze his ass, letting the
other evil cretin have a better chance of winning.

Dracus’ magic had also improved so much that
he was able to stay in contact with his love Janus too. He could
create a dimension and also appear in the spirit form within it.
Then as he’d appeared he was able to pull Janus’ spirit into it,
enabling them to look into each other’s eyes and be together again.
Only it hadn’t and didn’t by any means placate his lust to be with
her. Every time that she’d gone back to her body in Eldor and the
gateway was closed, he’d had a tear in his eye because of it. He’d
really in truth wanted much more, he’d wanted to lay naked with her
under the blankets and stroke her hair, smell her odor once more
and just relax with her. Only he’d daren’t use the portal to take
him there, not with all the heinously evil energy that was flowing
around him from the vampires in the coven, and the sick tortures of
humans that he’d been forced to witness. He wasn’t sure of their
dark energy and whether if he did use the portal if they’d know
where his world was because of it. Then in turn he’d always known
that he’d said that he’d never risk going back there until Vrakug
was dead. His people had placed great hope in him as their savior
too, and he wasn’t about to let them down either.

Janus had also told him that the castle of
his parents had burnt to the ground and because of it, the place
had then laid in ruins for many years too. She’d also said that
Vrakug had gone missing, his whereabouts were unknown and that
she’d wanted with all her heart to believe that he’d been eaten by
the Skylark beasts, but was unsure that he had been. She’d told him
that after he’d left and the fires of the castle had raged
fiercely, then strangely some hours later the flames had vanished
as if by a spell. Then at the same time suddenly day had turned
into night, and the Skylark beasts had appeared again and swarmed
the place. She’d said that she’d watched up through the grey
atmosphere of Sarhl, and through the dark clouds as they’d parted
occasionally, she’d seen it. The castle had succumbed to the winged
beasts, bursting into flame again.

So the fact that Vrakug’s whereabouts were
unknown after the castle had burnt down, and also not knowing if
Rex’s evil would be able to follow him, and not wishing to let his
people of Eldor down too, Dracus felt strongly that it would have
been very unwise to use the portal to visit her.

Only as the years pushed on and he was no
nearer to meeting Satan, and he’d no other choices but to continue
the agonizing wait, Janus had told him some horrifying news. She
and her family had looked up through the atmosphere and seen the
castle of his parents was back to new again, which in his mind had
meant only one thing, somehow Vrakug the slimy toad was back
again.

(Over two hundred years since Dracus joined
Rex’s coven)

Christmas Time, Romania - 1979

The valley was a carpet of white, scattered
here and there with little dots as the wire fencing that separated
the empty fields, was barely visible under the depth of the last
nights heavy snow fall. All around the sun was shining dimly as it
slipped down behind the vast mountain range, that surrounded three
hundred acres of fields, sprawled out beneath it.

Lengthy shadows rapidly appearing, popping up
everywhere until the fire in the sky returned the following day,
banishing them back to hell as it promised it would.

Looking up into the sky you could imagine
that after hurtling into galaxies unknown you were like James T
Kirk coming out of warp speed or something, and looking out the
window of your super space ship.

It was utterly breath taking and so surreal
that you could have just laid on your back for hours, and gazed
into the heavens.

The stars as they twinkled daintily back down
at you looked as if they were diamonds scattered gently across a
velvet sheet. Stepping on your heels, and by how close they looked,
you could have sworn that you could have reached up and touched
them.

In the center of the fields stood four white
farmers cottages that were only a few feet apart, and looked as if
they might have moved closer just to keep warm. Their roofs of
slate were lost some months previously under meters of snow, whilst
tapered icicles like snow spears hung limply from their guttering,
daring to fall.

Smoke tainted with the rich smell of seasoned
timber climbed lazily skywards from their brick chimneys, whilst
the amber lights from their windows made the gardens appear as if
they were washed with a magical glow.

All the while a small group of pine trees
swayed gently to their north, keeping company as the arctic wind
with its wintery song, hurriedly whipped up flurries of snow.

******

The children’s bed times are near and its
Christmas Eve. If they are late to sleep then they know from their
father that the bearded stranger and his friendly reindeers might
not show.

The farm dogs hear a noise from the mountains
and begin to growl. A moment passes with their necks craned skyward
and their noses to the air. Then as a shooting star darts across
the skyline, deep panic sets in and they pull at their chains
trying to flee.

Inside one of the cottages and unaware of the
danger; a young boy of five called Andrei gallops surreptitiously
an imaginative horse on his grandfathers knee. His younger sister
Fiorentina plays with her teddy, whilst Georgieta their mother
busies herself placing presents under the Christmas tree.

“Its time for bed now Andrei.” The boy’s
father say’s as he hears something and looks out the window into
the darkness.

The dogs begin to howl and the wind picks up,
rattling the loose panes of glass in the window next to him.

“No No No, I want more papa, please, please,
please.” The boy cries as his grandfather obeys his son’s wishes
and the horsey knee that he was riding on slows to a trot. Andrei
is woken from his imagination and realizes with a little frown
across his face, that it wasn’t a horse galloping at all, and that
it was just a trick, it was the old man’s knee.

“Children please do as your father asks”
their mother says with a pine muffled voice from under the
tree.

Andrei looks very unimpressed, and as he
feels a tantrum coming on he remembers the pain from his father’s
belt the last time that his actions became free.

Feeling defeated with his arms slack by his
sides, sullen faced and impish, Andrei sighs because the horse that
he was riding had been seventeen hands tall, it was a marvelous
beast; it was white and with it’s long flowing mane, it was so
magical and free.

“Sorry Andrei, your father is right, go and
get ready for bed. When you are though, come and tell me and I will
read to you and your sister. Would you like that?” his Grandpa says
in his friendly, jovial voice.

“I want, I want.” Andrei screams excitedly,
as he leaps off the knee.

Grandpa has a tired face of many wrinkles,
and a black beard that comes down just beneath his chin. His eyes
are dark and set back quite far, and his ears are long and big.

‘Have you forgotten children to say good
night’ their Grandmother say’s as cold air comes down the chimney,
roaring the fire and making the shadows of the room dance
vehemently.

Andrei and Fiorentina turn around and run
across the room to give grandma a big hug. Only as Fiorentina leaps
up into grannies only slightly tidily from sherry embrace, Teddy
who is being held precariously somehow finds his foot swinging a
hairs breadth from the open flames.

Grandpa drops his pipe and reaches forwards
as fast as his old body can.

“Careful Fiorentina,” he says, as he looks
and sees that the poor bear had slightly burnt his hand.

Fiorentina looks down crossly at the bear in
her little grip, and shakes her head in disgust as if it was his
own fault entirely. Then she smiles up at Grandpa before running
back to her mother who is clambering out from under the tree.

In anticipation of his grandpa’s stories,
Andrei takes his sisters hand. Together and cautiously they climb
the aged and worn, timber slatted stairs.

Grandpa slowly fills his pipe whilst mum, a
burly woman with a strong head of black hair, climbs the stairs to
tuck them in and say her own good night.

Yohan reaches forwards and places a few more
logs on the fire. Sparks of dazzling orange and yellows from the
slightly damp timber, sizzle and pop as they make their way up the
chimney.

Fifteen minutes pass and their mother walks
back down the stairs, she smiling at grandpa and gesturing for
their stories to be told.

Grandpa remembering his promise nods; then
sighs as he begins to think about what story he can tell them.

‘They like the one about Jigor the bear, I do
believe.’ He say’s, as he smiles at Grandma and then rubs his hands
together in front of the ardent flames.

Reaching over the arm of his chair, he places
his pipe down on a small coffee table and begins to stand. As he
does he’s startled, because he’s sure that from the end of the
garden, he’s just seen the figure of a man.

Blinking twice he holds his head up and looks
again, only this time there’s no one, just frozen solid empty
fields, waiting for the snow to go so that the animals can come
back into the rich meadowlands to play.

Yohan looks up at his father’s expression
with some concern.

“Papa are you ok.” He asks.

‘Thought I saw someone but I blinked and
there was no one there. Wouldn’t worry son, I guess it must be my
age.’ he replied with a smile as he turned with his walking stick,
and then slowly and steadily made his way to the bottom of the
stairs.

Yohan sighed because he knows that he can’t
take chances with his animals. His wife who is sick and normally in
bed a lot due to her back, has made a special effort to stand just
for Xmas. He’s the breadwinner and without him he’s sure that they
wouldn’t have a choice but to sell the farm to avoid a tragic and
bitter end.

Due to economic decline, the area has seen
many thefts of recent. Yohan who has no spare money to buy more
animals, and cant take chances that he may, or may not be able to
feed his family, stretches as he prepares to go and check.

Grandad pauses a moment to gather his
strength, and then with his frail hand of eighty holding the
banister, he heads up the stairs to tell his grandchildren a
story.

Yohan stands from his chair and then leans
forwards with his body outstretched, placing his hands against the
narrow window ledge. Carefully he scans the darkness as far as he
can see for anything to verify his fathers concerns.

The night is spectacular and as the stars and
moon cast their cotton candy glow across the waist deep snow, the
blue reflection makes him smile.

Looking down he can’t even see a foot print
so chuckles and steps back, drawing the thick curtains to a
close.

Not entirely sure, he sighs, and then reaches
for his cap and scarf. Quickly he puts them on and then slips his
beige leather jacket on too, before striding with large steps
across to the back door.

‘Where are you going?’ Silvia said with words
slightly slurred, as she’d then leant forwards and poured herself
another Brandy.

“Just going to check the chicken’s, not sure
if I locked them in properly.” He’d said as he’d then reached up
above the back door to get his shotgun down.