His heart pounding with excitement, seventeen year old
Richard Gordon watched the baleful glow of the moon as it
filtered through his bedroom window. How he had planned for
this night! Turning to face his full length antique mirror,
he studied his reflection. Black leather riding boots, black
velvet breeches, white silk shirt, black sash at his waist
which held the long, sharp rapier at his side, it's gleaming
sheath made of engraved, polished silver. Perfect, he thought,
as he tied his shoulder length sandy blond hair back in a
plain black ribbon. He looked as if he had just stepped
out of a bygone century.
11:37 p.m., time to go. It was only a short walk to the
cemetary but he wanted to be there by midnight. He stuffed
one last object, a half full bottle of vintage red wine,
into his carry bag and headed down the stairs. The phone's
ringing stopped him half way down, cursing, he ran back up,
grabbing the receiver.
"Yeah," Richard panted.
"Hi, it's me. We're just about ready and, well, I
thought I'd give you one more chance to join us."
"Look, Vicky, we've been over this already. I'm not
going to the Halloween party with you and the gang. And I
don't know how you can go, not after we planned to go to
the graveyard. You know how much it means to me!" Richard
said sharply.
There was a long pause on the line.
"No, Richard, *she* means a lot to you! That's why
you're really going out there, it's because of her, isn't
it?" Vicky asked, her voice rising.
"Oh come on, you know we always go to the graveyard
on Samhain, just you and me. We can go to parties anytime."
Richard argued.
"Please don't go Richard, I'm worried about you. You've
become obsessed with death, you hardly even want to see me
anymore, all you want to do is be along, or be with her.
You shouldn't go out there without us, you--"Vicky begged.
"Just watch me," Richard snarled, hanging up.
Walking throughthe refreshing cool of the night air,
he felt a pang of guilt at how he had treated Vicky. He'd
met her three years ago, when his family had first moved to
Birmingham, England. They used to get on great but lately,
well, she'd been treating him like they were married or
something. Enough thinking about Vicky, he'd straighten
it all out later, tomorrow.
Finding it warmer out than he had thought, Richard
un-buttoned his black top coat, eighteenth century design,
of course. He loved old stuff and picked up antiques and
old clothes when he could afford them. Working in an Occult
shop after school gave him lots of spending money and time
to study Black Magic avidly. Around his throat he wore
a black and silver inverted Pentagram with pride.
Reaching the tall iron cemetary gates and high stone
walls, Richard checked for any signs of a caretaker, no
one was around, as he had expected. It was usually late at
night, especially on the Eve of the Dead. Further down the
stone wall there was a cluster of trees, he used their low
branches to help him scale the wall, like he always did...
Safely inside the cemetary Richard took a drink of wine,
listening. He loved the sounds and smells of the night.
Replacing the wine in his bag he started towards the centre
of the graveyeard. Where she waited. The moon was almost
full making it easy to see, almost like daylight. All
around him he heard crickets and the sound of his own
footsteps pounding the damp earth. He smiled, enjoying this
quiet solitude, just him and the night.
Graveyards had never held any fear for Richard, he
often prowled them alone, late at night, when his parents
thought he was asleep. He would lay down upon the graves
of the dead, sometimes for hours at a time. He thought about
death, life after death, ghosts, spells of necromancy,
living forever. He hoped the dead would make themselves
known to him, tell him their secrets. Sometimes he wanted to
be dead, to join them on the other side, just to know, to
find out at last what awaited him there.
As he neared his favorite spot his pulse quickened,
how he loved this place! The beautiful old white tomb, the
crumbling monuments, the lovely weather worn statues, all
surrounded by trees and ringed with large marble-like stones.
Drinking in all the beauty around him, he reached down and
ran his fingers over the familiar name on the tomb.
ELIZABETH HENLEY
Beloved Daughter of Edward and Nora Henley
1797 - 1818
Richard took out several large black candles from his
bag, lit them and set them out respectfully around the grave.
He sat on top of the tomb and took a long swig of wine. He
knew Vicky was right, Elizabeth Henley was his true love, had
been for years. He had fallen for Elizabeth the first time
his new friends had shown him this cemetary, shortly after
his move to Birmingham.
At the head of the tomb stood a statue of Elizabeth,
she was breathtaking, flawless in her beauty. Soft features
smiled down at him from a sensuous face. She stood twirling,
as if dancing, her long gown flowing out around her, masses
of hair tumbled down her back--she looked so very happy, so
full of life!
Sighing deeply, he stretched out on her tomb looking
up at the endless, star filled sky. He could feel her
presence near him, as if she lay there by his side. If only
it was possible for her to be here with him now...leaning
up on one elbow he drank the final draught of wine, some
spilling from his lips, splashing onto the ivory tome like
bloody tears. Using one finger, Richard drew a heart with
the red liquid, then added 'R & E' inside it.
He leaned down closer to the tomb and whispered, "I
wish there was a way that we could be together Elizabath...
I would do anything to make it so...I would sell my soul,
and gladly!"
A cold chill ran up his spine and he turned, looking
behind him. He could feel someone watching him, all around
him the night had become much quiet.
"Is anyone there?"
Nothing. Not one ghost. What had he expected?
Elizabeth to walk out of the shadows to join him? Now he
was really being silly, he thought, shaking his head.
"Got to get a grip on yourself Richard" he mumbled to
himself, relaxing once again...
The loud grating sound took Richard completely by
surprise, he flew off the tomb and ducked down, turning
towards the noise. He wasn't along, someone else was in
the cemetary! He quickly put out the candles he had burning
and quietly packed up his stuff. Again he heard it, that
awful sound, like stone grating against stone--but this time
it was followed by a heavy thud. The noice was coming from
the very centre of the cemetary where the oldest, long
forgotten crypts were. Richard found himself thinking of his
friends, maybe they had come to join him after all. This
was exactly the kind of joke they would play on him...well,
we'll just see who scares who, he thought. Drawing his
rapier, he creeped silently into the night.
He walked on and on, searching the darkness on every
side of him but in vain. And again, there was the feeling
of being watched. Something began to warn him to turn back
but he wouldn't. Not until he knew who was in the
graveyard with him.
The oldest section of the cemetary was poorly cared for,
it had become extremely wild and overgrown with greenery.
He had been here only once before with his friends, they
had not stayed for long as the atmosphere was far from
inviting. Up ahead of him, Richard noticed something
unusual--the large stone cover from one of the tombs lay on
the ground, just ahead of him. He hadn't noticed that on
his last visit, all the tombs had been sealed. Taking a
small flashlight out of his bag he went closer, aiming the
beam of light down into the grave. No rotten remains
greeted his eyes, but...staris? A hidden crypt! Richard
looked closely at teh stone lid. Could this have something
to do with the sound he had heard? It must weigh a ton, no
one could move it. At least no one human. Fear washed
over him and he wished he were far away from here, back home
where it was safe and warm...but his legs were already guiding
him slowly down the steps to whatever awaited him below.
Reaching the bottom, Richard found himself standing
in a vast chamber, the walls and ceiling were phosphorescent,
bathing the cavern in an eerie glow. In the centre of the
cavern on a dais was a solitary tomb of black reflecting
stone. It seemed a wave of dizziness came over him as he
gazed upon it and he found himself leaning against the wall
in order to stand. Something brushed against his cheek and
he jumped back in surprise. Just an old torch, fixed into
the wall. Looking around he saw that there were several
more about the crypt. Using his lighter he lit them all,
taking comfort from the crackling warmth of the flame and
the added light. He edged closer to the tomb, his boots
making sharp clicking sounds as he climbed the dark steps.
When he stood at the top and looked down at the ebony tomb
he knew it had to have been made for someone important. Its
lid was covered with deep grooved designs and precious
multi-colored gems were embedded right into the rock. In
the centre of the tomb was a strange sigil--a black serpent
coiled arounf a white lion. Above the two beasts loomed a
red dragon's head the open mouth revealing jagged, razor
sharp fangs.
As if his hand had a mind of its own, it reached down,
towards the dragon...the stone felt cool to his touch but
he felt something else as well. An electric current was
pulling him closer, he felt weak and so sleepy. The
rapier slid from his other hand, clattering down the steps.
The massive lid swung open with such speed that Richard
didn't even have time to be afraid. When he started to
realize what had happened he found he couldn't move, could
hardly breathe, until he heard movement behind him. His
trance broken he ran for the stairs, running instead right into
the arms of a nightmare...
A tall, very thin, skeletal form stood in his way.
Bones jutted through its pale lifeless skin, clothes hung
in tatters from its limbs. His only exit blocked by the
thing, Richard backed into the far corner, arms stretched out
protectively in front of him, to ward it off, keep it away
from him.
He heard the ripping of cloth before he even realized
that the creature had moved--pain like fire coursed down
his chest as sharp talons tors through fabric and flesh.
Arms like steel crushed his ribs so hard, leaving him gasping
for air. He felt the monster's razor edged fangs sink deeply
into him, heard it gorging on his blood. His mind was numb
with shock, he felt tired, he just wanted to slip into
oblivion away from this horror. He was dying. This realization
sent his body into action, pushing and kicking at the creature
causing both of them to fall to the floor, their embrace
broken as they fell.
Richard crawled blindly, trying to escape...the steps...
if he could just make it out of the crypt...outside he might
be able to get away. Behind him a deep growl turned into a
cruel laugh. He remembered dropping his rapier earlier...if
he could reach it perhaps he had a chance but where was his
weapon...?
He turned to see the thing standing over him, saw his own
blood dripping from its mouth as it grinned wickedly at him.
It lunged at him pinning him against the cold stairs, an icy
hand grabbed his hair, yanking his head back viciously, exposing
his throat. The last thing he saw was the creature's eyes,
horrible head eyes, like a sharks. Then the fanged teeth
plunged into his neck...and he was sinking in a black ocean
of blood, the sound of his own heart drowning him, dragging
him down into the depths.
The first thing Richard thought of upon awakening was
the creature. Where was it? But he could hardly move,
could hardly keep his eyes open. He moved one hand and felt
a cool surface, through his distorted vision he could see
walls to either side of him...then he knew. He was inside
the tomb! And someone was approaching, footsteps coming
nearer...
A dark haired, handsome young man with gleaming white
skin stood looking down at him, he was dressed in rags and
covered with blood stains. It was the same creature that had
attacked him, it had grown young and strong from his blood.
The man's silvery eyes glowered at him, his smile revealing
the sharp fangs.
"Listen carefully, for you must tell this tale to the
next one, to your victim. I am Lord Arthur Gray, I was
drawn here by death's call and attacked as you were, over
a century ago. I hear your thoughts. Yes, it was I who
watched you, called you here and yes, I am a Vampyre as now
so are you. The blood of Baron Esteban Kane runs through
our viens. He was a Magus of the Black Arts, it was he who
started this Vampyre line. He craved eternal life so he
courted death. Death granted his desire but at a price. We
must fee on the blood and souls of the living, it is how
we survive" spoke the Vampyre, his voice low and musical.
Richard tried to say something, to sit up, but he was
much too weak.
With a shake of his head the Vampyre continued "You must
wait as we all waited until your powers grow strong, then
you will be able to summon a victim to fee on and take your
place."
No, pleaded Richard silently, bring me a victim now,
feed me, don't leave me here...but the Vampyre only locked
down at him sadly, "I can not help you young one, each of us
must call his own victim. You are strong, it will not be
a long wait. You see, you must come to know and love death
in order to truly apreciate the gift of life eternal. But
you will come to understand. I must go now. Goodbye."
finished the Vampyre.
The lid swung shut leaving Richard in darkness. Please
no, let it be just a dream he thought. He couldn't really
be here, couldn't really be a ghastly dead shrivelled thing,
trapped in a tomb...deep inside him a voiceless scream
began to build, he had to get out, to escape somehow!
The suddenly, he could see. Glimpses of the night
outside came to him. He was floating free in the graveyard,
looking down from the night sky. He saw the Vampyre who had
made him, watched him seal the crypt door. The Vampyre was
singing and whistling to himself, enjoying his freedom,
Richard lost sight of him as he danced off into the night.
Thoughts and voices came to him, from people close by in their
house. He saw one face coming closer, getting clearer, felt
warmth touch him. Elizabeth. His Elizabeth! Then she was
beside him, smiling, holding him lovingly.
Elizabeth told him that he would be alright, he had
kept her company in her darkness and she would be here for
him. She would help him, teach him what she knew. His
body would rest in the grave while his soul roamed the night,
learning of the hunt, of death and of life. He would grow
stronger as time passed and then an eternity would be his.
Inside the tomb Richard smiled and slowly crossed his
arms over his chest. Then he and Elizabeth were laughing
and dancing around the graves together, their spirits united
at last. And Richard was finally free. Forever.
