I slowly opened my eyes, expecting to find myself in the car. To my surprise, I woke up in what looked like an old-fashioned hospital ward. I was no longer wearing my clothes but a white nightshirt. My clothes – freshly washed by the looks of them – were folded neatly on top of each other beneath the nightstand.
Looking around, I saw that the beds were wrought-iron, about ten on each side of the long room. They were all empty, with beams of sunshine illuminating the covers as if to further highlight their tidiness. I still felt groggy, though the rest must have helped quite a bit since my dizziness was gone. I tried to get up, but the onset of pain in my left leg reminded me that I was in no condition to go anywhere.
My mouth was extremely dry. There seemed to be some sort of nurse’s room at the end of the hall. Perhaps someone was there. I tried to call out, but the feeble croak that came from my throat would hardly have alerted anyone next to me, let alone across a room like this.
I lay there for what seemed like an eternity, mulling over what had happened in my mind as in a feverish dream. The memories of the attack would haunt me for a long time, well after my leg had healed, I was sure. But what had they been up to? What interest had they in me? I needed answers.
I was rescued from my circular ruminations by a nurse, entering from the large wooden door at the end of the room. She walked over to my bed. She was thin and elderly, with a kind face.
“Hello dear, did you sleep alright?”
She approached my bed and touched my forehead; I was taken aback by how cold her hands were.
“Thank you, yes,” I said. “Where – where am I?”
The nurse bustled around the bed in a motherly fashion, rearranging the sheets. I wasn’t sure she had heard me.
“It’s been quite a summer, hasn’t it? You’re a little late, we expected the last ones to arrive by the week before last, you know. Well, never matter, we still have some time until the ceremony. I’m sure you’re very excited already.”
She smiled at me and began taking my pulse.
“I – what ceremony?” I asked.
“The initiation ceremony, of course,” the elderly nurse said, “we’ll have to patch you up as fast as we can, the Trial can be pretty stressful but I’m sure we’ll get have you up and about until then. The ones so far have been pretty challenging, though I really shouldn’t be talking to you about them, mind...”
“Look – sorry – I have no idea what …” I began, hardly able to break her flow of speech.
“… what the Trial is going to be?” she asked, again smiling reassuringly. “Never worry, dear, I’ve seen many pass through this ward in my lifetime, and you certainly look more like the determined type. After a few square meals, that is – and I have just the right thing for you.”
“You don’t understand. I have no idea where I am and what all this is about, my grandfather and I was attacked and then …”
“They haven’t told you yet?” she asked.
“Not a thing.”
“Oh dear, you know I’m not sure I’m the right person to do this, I’d better get Doctor Yurasov, he said he wanted to go the village.”
“Where is my grandfather?” I demanded.
But the nurse checked her watch, as if in a different world, evidently having trouble reading it due to its small size.
“This watch, you know, was given to me by my father when I was little. Such a nice specimen, don’t you think? It really was…”
“I’m sorry but I really need… Could you get the doctor for me?” I said desperately.
“The doctor?” she said, momentarily bewildered. “Ah yes, you don’t know yet, poor dear.”
She crossed the room. Before I knew it, she was out of the door, pulling it to behind her, leaving me to my thoughts again. The ward was empty, my grandfather nowhere to be seen. I had a terrible feeling of foreboding. Please, let him have come through alright.
After what seemed like ages, the door opened again. An official-looking man with rimless glasses entered with the nurse. He was greying and bald, but smartly dressed in a black three-piece suit. He thanked the nurse, taking the tray she was carrying from her, and approached my bed. After he had set the tray down on the nightstand, he held out his hand in a formal manner.
“Miss Rebecca Flynn. How do you do, my name is Doctor Yurasov.”
I shook his hand as firmly as I could. He spoke excellent English, with what was probably a slight Russian accent. He turned around, in an unmistakable gesture that he wanted privacy. The elderly nurse, who seemed rather in awe of Doctor Yurasov and had been watching the scene from afar, made a sort of curtsey and left the room.
I was glad to see a large metal jug, a goblet, and some sandwiches on the tray. Doctor Yurasov pulled up a chair from the wall.
“Please, Miss Flynn, allow me,” he said, pouring the contents of the jug into the goblet and handing it to me. “This will get you back on your feet in no time.”
“Thank you.”
I was so thirsty that I set the goblet to my lips in an instant. The first drops tasted bitter, like iron. But it was strangely satisfying at the same time.
“What is this?” I asked, holding the contents of the goblet to the light so I could see its colour.
“We call it the essence of life. Go on, drink it,” he said.
At this point, he noticed my hesitation and chuckled.
“You have already been injected with it for the last couple of days. You were unconscious for quite some time, you know. If we had wanted to harm you, we would have had ample opportunity, I assure you,” he said.
He was right, of course. But that didn’t allay my horrible suspicion about the liquid.
“Is this …”
“Blood?” he interjected, chuckling again, “no, it is not, though I am not surprised you thought so. It is supposed to taste like it, after all.”
I still hesitated. The sun flashed across Yurasov’s spectacles.
“It is good to be careful, I respect that. You hold there a particularly potent formula, one I devised myself in fact, only to be used in special circumstances.”
I was not yet willing to trust him but at least I was getting some answers for a change. I was still very thirsty and drank the rest of the goblet. At once, a pleasant tingling permeated my body. As the liquid ran down my throat, a happiness spread that I hadn’t felt before. A sensation of satisfaction, as if I had been in the desert for a long time. Strangely enough, the pain in my leg seemed to be easing off, too. Probably the endorphins rushing through my body.
“Where am I?”
“We are high up in the Carpathian mountains, in Romania. You were flown in here immediately after we rescued you.”
“Romania?” I asked. “Why on earth did you bring us here?”
“It is our last remaining stronghold in Europe,” Doctor Yurasov said. “The Council resides here, as well as the Royal Family. Our college is also located within the castle’s walls.”
This seemed like a strange explanation, but I let it pass for the time being.
“My grandfather, where is he?”
For the first time during our encounter, Doctor Yurasov looked troubled. He pushed his glasses closer to his face again. A terrible sense of foreboding crept up my spine.
“I am very sorry, Miss Flynn. Your grandfather has passed away. We could not save him. In fact, we are lucky that you survived.”
“He’s dead?” I said unbelievingly.
Doctor Yurasov nodded sadly. The news came like a blow to the head, my worst fears were proven right. I stared out of the window, my eyes filling with tears, though I quickly wiped them away. I didn’t like crying, especially in front of strangers.
The doctor had the curtesy to look out of the window also.
After a few moments, when I felt that my voice might not break up, I asked:
“Who did this?”
“We think we know, at least in part” he said. “What I am about to tell you, Miss Flynn, is going to sound fantastical, but it is the truth nonetheless.”
He took off his glasses and wiped them on his shirt cuff.
“You are not a regular human,” Doctor Yurasov said slowly.
“Thanks for the diagnosis. I’d noticed.”
He smiled apologetically.
“What I mean to say is that you are not human at all. At least, not anymore. You are, in fact, in the early stages of Vampirism.”
“Vampirism?”
“You are becoming a vampire.”
“Sorry, Doctor, but I don’t believe in fairy tales.”
“Fairy tales?”
“Come on, Doctor. I don’t know what your game is or what you want from me, but I’m not going to fall for a story like that.”
Doctor Yurasov smiled, though I could see he had expected a different reaction to what was evidently supposed to be the climax of his speech.
“I assure you, Miss Flynn, there is no game being played here,” he said.
“Tell me what you want from me,” I said.
“I can tell you that only if you accept the premise of your condition. That you are...”
“… a vampire? Why not a ghost? Or perhaps a wand-wielding witch? I always wanted to turn people into toads like they do in the books, you know,” I said.
Doctor Yurasov was growing red with repressed anger.
“Alright, Miss Flynn, we will have it your way. I will prove it to you. I will demonstrate what you will become.”
I was taken aback at this. He must have been lying, though I didn’t know for what reason. He stood up and walked to the foot end of my bed. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with apparently great effort, his physical shape became blurred, then transparent, until finally I couldn’t see him any longer. He was gone. The sudden silence in the ward gave me the creeps.
“Doctor?” I asked.
Nothing.
There wasn’t a trace of him anywhere. Then, the air again blurred only inches next to the nightstand, and Doctor Yurasov re-materialised right before my eyes, fully reappearing in his usual form after a few seconds.
Doctor Yurasov was quivering with exhaustion and collapsed onto the chair, though clearly satisfied with the result of his demonstration.
“Forgive me, Miss Flynn,” he said, panting. “I have been out of practice for a long time now. This is what you get if you sit at a desk for too many years.”
He fumbled with the inside pocket of his jacket and produced a flask, which he quickly opened, taking a large swig.
The whole thing couldn’t possibly be true, and yet…
I shook my head in disbelief. I didn’t know how he had pulled it off, but there must have been some trick involved. A projection, a curtain.
“Look, I don’t know how you did this,” I said. “Even if I believed you – which I don’t – it still doesn’t mean I’m a … a vampire.”
“No?” he said. “Did you not notice how delicious the liquid was to you? How it satisfied a deep, inner need you’ve never felt like that before?”
“So? I was thirsty. Or there were some drugs in it.”
“Oh, it is a drug, no doubt about that,” Doctor Yurasov said. “A drug we need to sustain life, in fact. One that you will need, too. Unless you want to kill to get your blood, though I do not recommend it. The Vampiric Council, for one, will have something to say about that.”
I didn’t know what to say. It was all just too strange to believe.
Doctor Yurasov reached below the nightstand and produced a small mirror. He gave it to me.
“What?”
“Have a look at your teeth,” he said.
“My teeth are fine. Look, I…”
“Just look,” he said simply.
I raised the mirror to my face and opened my mouth. To my shock, I saw that my canine teeth were unnaturally elongated. It wasn’t very pronounced, not like in the movies. But it was unmistakable nonetheless.
“So, do you believe me now?” he asked.
“I – I don’t know,” I said, though my resolve was growing weaker. “Perhaps if you explained some of the other things.”
“What do you want to know?” he asked.
“Why did they attack us?”
“They wanted to kidnap you. We sent a squad over to clean up after we got you out of there. We had a closer look at that delivery. I think they planned on getting you to the car in it without arousing suspicion from the neighbours.”
“But why?”
“It is complicated. We don’t know everything.”
“Try me,” I said.
“For centuries, vampires have existed, living amongst their human prey in secret. Of course, the need to drink blood exposed them. And not all humans were particularly accommodating to their wishes. They started fighting back. The most prominent group called themselves the Slayers’ League, a religious organisation founded over a hundred years ago. It operated worldwide and was quite successful, at least at the beginning.”
“So they attacked me and…?”
I wanted to add my grandfather, but it was just too painful to even say it right now. I wasn’t ready to accept it and swallowed the rest of the sentence. Doctor Yurasov looked concerned.
“Yes. That is not the whole story, unfortunately. We have had a truce with the Slayers for over twenty years now. The war had been raging on and off for decades. We lost a lot of good people – and so did they. And so an agreement was drawn up to end the violence. The Slayers would leave us in peace under the condition that we no longer killed for blood.”
“They were hardly peaceful,” I said.
“Quite right, Miss Flynn. And this is what is worrying us so much. The peace was always a tentative affair, we all knew that. Too many groups had an interest in the continuation of the conflict, also within our own ranks. An entire world changed for us overnight. But it was worse for the Slayers. You see, they were robbed of their prime reason for existence, of their hated enemy they wanted to destroy above all else. Many of them never wanted peaceful cooperation but total annihilation of what they considered to be the ‘scourge of humanity’. The entire basis for their organisation vanished. Incapable of reform and resources stretching to breaking point, the League quickly decayed. Even Colonel Bradshaw, their leader who had been the driving force behind the peace talks, couldn’t stop it.”
“So what changed?” I asked.
“With their lack in personnel, it was easy for us to infiltrate their organisation. That’s how we knew about the attack on you in the first place. Our spies within the League told us of a change in the power balance. The most determined members were seeking to remove Bradshaw, seen by many as an appeaser. In a desperate attempt to retain power, he turned to the only financier he could find. An international corporation by the name of Criswell Cosmetics. As you might imagine, very few people are willing to waste money on what presumably is a figment of the imagination.”
“But why would they be interested in the League?” I asked.
“That, we do not know. All we do know about the Criswell imperium is that they are absolutely ruthless in their business dealings. In other words, it is hardly charity. They must have a very good reason for what they are doing.”
“Even assuming that I believed all of this – and I’m not saying I do – I still don’t see how I have to do with any of this, Doctor,” I said.
“It was no accident they attacked you, Miss Flynn. It was a targeted strike. They wanted you. There is absolutely no doubt about it. The condition of contracted Vampirism is extremely uncommon. We call it the Scarlet Curse. In fact, there are very few vampires alive who have it. Most of us were bitten, and transformed, or born to vampire parents. Contracting it, on the other hand, is very rare.”
“But what does it matter to the Slayers?”
“They do. That is the mystery, Miss Flynn. We know from our sources that they have focussed all of their efforts on identifying those who are like you. For months, they have been working through hospital records, medical reports, anything they could get their hands on. It is a time-consuming and inefficient process. You see, there are medical signs, but they are often inconclusive. The Vampiric Council decided long ago that it was simply best to wait until the signs matured. In any case, there was no real alternative. Surveying thousands of hospitals for a handful of individuals would have been like searching for the proverbial needle in the haystack. An active vampire is much easier to find, as you might imagine. Then, they are initiated into our world, for their sake and for the protection of their surroundings. Vampirism takes a long time to mature, but progresses very quickly once it has. The thirst for blood soon overwhelms the afflicted. Family and friends – who are naturally closest – might well be the first victims. In other cases, when the afflicted either resists the darker impulses of drawing blood from human beings or has no opportunity to do so, they die. Because a vampire cannot live without blood.”
“So this is blood after all?” I asked, looking into the goblet.
Doctor Yurasov looked at me, his expression unreadable.
“It is the old problem, one that has been plaguing our society since the beginning of time, the curse of our entire existence. Blood not only sustains our lives but provides us with extraordinary powers. But the bloodlust is uncontrollable. Many have tried and failed to do so. Death always accompanies our existence. We have been working for centuries on this problem, to find a way to live without having to kill,” he said.
“Couldn’t you just…erm… ask for blood donations or something?” I asked.
“I wish it were as easy as that,” he said. “But the process is a lot more complicated. Mere blood is not enough. It must be drawn in a forcible act from a live victim. As you might imagine, that didn’t make us too popular with the neighbours.”
“But you did come up with a substitute,” I said, inclining my head towards the jug of elixir.
“Indeed, Miss Flynn. Our scientists have been working on it for generations. In the early days, it was designed for emergencies only. Since then, however, it has become our staple diet. It is far from perfect, as you will notice. We all live in a permanent state of withdrawal, for the urge to drink never truly leaves us. We cannot change who we are, but we try to supress our darker instincts.”
“So, you’ve become a kind of vegetarians.”
Doctor Yurasov laughed.
“It is not the word we use, and certainly not for the noble reasons you might think, though many pretend it is, of course. I will not lie to you, Miss Flynn. Many vampires enjoyed the hunt for blood, even the cries of their victims. That predatory nature is built into us. The simple truth is that the war with the Slayers’ League brought us close to extinction. We had to give up our old ways of life, to save ourselves. There aren’t many of us left anymore, and we have had to make arrangements with our former enemies. As a result, the Vampiric Council has prohibited under pain of death to draw blood. An unpopular decision, to say the least.”
“So what happens now?” I asked after taking another sip of the liquid. The strange tingling sensations spread throughout my body once more.
“You will have to learn to use your abilities properly, you will have to be trained. If you are not, you are a danger to your surroundings, as well as to yourself. But you will learn all of that at the Ceremony.”
“The nurse mentioned it, what exactly is it?” I asked, placing the goblet back on the nightstand.
“It is the initiation into our world, perhaps the most important event in the life of a vampire. It is also a requirement to enter the castle, where you will learn our ways. After you prove yourself during the Trial, of course.”
He pushed up his glasses again as if the matter were settled.
“And if don’t join you?” I asked, sitting up.
“What do you mean?”
Doctor Yurasov seemed genuinely bewildered by this question.
“If I want to go back home.”
“That is not an option for you.” Doctor Yurasov said.
Now it was my turn to be perplexed.
“Not an option?”
“No. Your home is here now.” he said.
“But you can’t just decide for me!” I said.
“We will not risk the exposure of our world. The Council has already decided the matter, long ago.” he said
“Excuse me?” I said.
This was the last straw.
“I’m not going to be your prisoner!” I said.
“The matter is settled, Miss Flynn. You will remain here with us. I will let you rest a little more. The Trial will take place in one week from now. The other prospective students are already in training.”
And with that, Doctor Yurasov stood up and walked across the hall towards the door.
After he was gone, I lay there, fuming. I wasn’t going to be forced into any of this. This was my life, they couldn’t just decide this for me.
I got out of bed. My leg was still hurting, though it felt much better now. I would probably be able to cover some ground. I put on my old clothes; they felt slightly stiff from washing. I found my shoes and put them on, too, and walked gingerly towards the door.
When I reached it, I paused, listening. There was nothing to be heard. I gently pushed it open and was immediately blinded by the strong rays of the sun. The warm beams felt strange on my skin. I looked down at my arm; it didn’t seem different at all. What did I expect? I must have read too many novels.
The sight that greeted me was extraordinary, that much I had to admit. I found myself in a mountain landscape stretching as far as the eye could see. The hospital building I had just exited from lay at the edge of a cliff. Further up the mountain was a trail that lead up to a castle, its grey-white spires with black roof tiles towering impressively over me. Several enormous birds were circling the castle’s towers, though it was hard to see due to the blinding light of the low sun. Below me, bathed in a mellow orange light, a narrow road snaked its way down the mountain for perhaps a mile or even two, culminating in a little village.
Going up to the castle was, of course, not an option. The only thing I could do was go down further into the village and hope that I could find some means of transportation. These people, regardless of whether they really were vampires or not, were clearly very powerful. I had to be extremely careful.
I made my way down the narrow path through the village as quickly as my leg carried me. I couldn’t see anyone out and about. Suddenly, I heard a tenuous call from behind me.
“Miss Flynn…”
It was the old nurse. I kept walking, pretending not to hear her.
“Wait, Miss Flynn!”
I picked up the speed a bit, but didn’t dare to turn around. I had very little time before she would alert Doctor Yurasov or someone else.
I reached the village, my leg protesting at every step now. The small half-timbered houses looked like from another century, or millennium even. I doubted half of them had electricity or heating. Piles of firewood adorned almost every yard, probably in preparation for the coming winter. I turned into a muddy sidestreet as soon as I could.
I followed the street a little further, careful to walk close to the houses to remain out of sight of the hospital. A small red-bricked church, by far the newest-looking building, marked the end of the road. There were only a few children playing there, though my ‘modern’ clothes didn’t seem to bother them in the least. Then, there was a sound I had never heard before, like a deep cry of some animal. The children immediately looked into the sky and pointed something out to one another, excited. I followed their gaze. What I saw made my blood freeze.
What I had earlier mistaken for birds at greater distance turned out to be gigantic bats, heading in the direction of the village. There could be no doubt that they were looking for me. Supressing my panic, I frantically looked for some sort of cover. I was attracting a lot more attention from the villagers now, their faces looking stonily at me. They had obviously come to the conclusion that the creatures were looking for me, that my presence here wasn’t authorised.
I hid in the shade between two houses, checking the sky. The creatures were circling the entire village, though I didn’t think they had pinpointed my exact location, at least not yet. Suddenly, a window opened right above me and a grim-looking woman began yelling at me in a language I didn’t understand. The noise would give me away in no time. I had to move fast. The only place left was the church. Cursing under my breath at the woman who had blown the whistle and eyeing the sky, I sprinted as fast as my leg would permit.
I passed through the little graveyard and opened the church’s doors. It was quiet, there was nobody around.
I’d never been in an orthodox church before. The golden adornments of the altar were matched only perhaps by the beautiful mural paintings.
“Impressive for such a little village, is it not?” a voice came from behind me.
I spun around immediately. It was Doctor Yurasov.
“How…”
“The gargoyles alerted me the minute you left,” he said.
“The what?”
“Our flying guardians. You must have seen them looking for you. Come, let me show you something.”
I had little choice. I followed him out of the church into the graveyard. Judging by the dates on the graves, this graveyard was at least 800 years old. At last, Doctor Yurasov came to a halt.
“I am sorry, Miss Flynn. We waited as long as we could but we didn’t know when you would recover consciousness.”
I stepped forward. The tombstone bore my grandfather’s name, Richard Maximilian Flynn. He had died defending me. And I would never forget that as long as I lived.
We stood there for quite a while in silence, as the memories of that horrible attack passed before my eyes as vividly as if it were happening again. I remembered the last time I looked into his eyes, the moment we had decided to fight. And then, how he lay there unconscious, blood trickling from his head.
I was grateful that Doctor Yurasov didn’t try to talk, that he left me to my own thoughts. He simply stared at the tombstone, his expression grim yet resolved. I looked back at the freshly turned-over earth, though my mind was miles away.
“They won’t stop, will they?” I said.
Doctor Yurasov turned to me.
“No, Miss Flynn. They will not.”
There was a pause as the truth of the situation settled in. Whether I liked it or not, I was now marked out as a target wherever I went. I had no place to go. And even if I did, they’d find me eventually, and everyone I knew would be at risk as well. Friends, old or new, would simply be a means of getting to me. They’d shown how ruthless they were. They had killed my grandfather. They would kill anyone else in their way without a moment’s hesitation. I’d be a curse to anyone I met. Whatever this place was, whatever was in store for me here, it had to be better than that.
I turned to Doctor Yurasov. I think he knew immediately, knew that my decision had been made. But he showed me the respect in waiting for it to come out of my mouth.
“Thank you, Doctor Yurasov, for everything you’ve done.”
He smiled and nodded.