Deuteronomy's Childe00:37 Apr 15 2005
Times Read: 865
I was going through my old story notes and I came across this. It is the first chapter for what was to be the sequel for my novel. It was written in 1995 so it mirrors my desire to continue the story.
However, a decade later, my "sequel" has evolved and is STILL a work in progress. The story has changed directions from this start, however and at best this could be considered an interim short story. In reality it's a very short solitary chapter. Who knows, I might tweak it a bit more and add it to my anthology. Until then, I'm placing it here for posterity. Enjoy."And then, one Thursday, nearly two thousand years after one man had been nailed to a tree for saying how great it would be to be nice to people for a change, a girl sitting on her own in a small café in Rickmansworth suddenly realized what it was that had been going wrong all this time, and she finally knew how the world could be made a good and happy place. This time it was right, it would work, and no one would have to get nailed to anything.
Sadly, however, before she could get to a phone to tell anyone about it, a terrible, stupid catastrophe occurred, and the idea was lost for ever.
This is not her story."
-- Douglas Adams, Prologue to The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy
Prologue
There is a legend. An ancient legend. One that not many people know about. Those who do know it don't tell it often, for they themselves are considered legend by most. They are vampires.
The ancient ones fear that the legend may one day come true, and soon. Indeed, many signs today point to the time of the Last City.
Every society, every religion, has a tale of their Creation and one of their Destruction. Why should vampires not tell similar tales? Of course, when a society lives in the shadows, masquerades as other societies, and does its best to deny its existance to those other societies, its tales are bound to differ.
In all origin stories, however, there is always a Source and vampires' stories are no different. Almost unanimously, all vampire destruction stories take place at the hands of mortals.
But there is a legend. One whose dark message of violence amongst vampire kindred actually predicts Salvation at the hands of a mortal woman. A woman who knows the darkness and has provided her own beacon. A woman who was born of the Beast and has tamed it. A woman who the legend predicts will bear a birthmark of a crescent moon on the nape of her neck.
It will identify her as the Last Daughter of Eve, the Child of the Last City.
"Just because you're a vampire, that doesn't make you a bad person."
-- Victor Van Helsing, Transylvania Twist
Chapter One
The loud bell rang off, sounding shrill and discouraging to Don. He mumbled a familiar whine, "Just five more minutes." He would often beg his merciless alarm clock in the morning. Thank God for snooze bars, he thought. But right now, no snooze bar would save him.
The monotonous voice in front of him replied, "Sorry Mr. McElroy, pencils down. Class is over and so is the exam."
"But Mr. Jordan," Don continued as he wrote frantically, "I'm on the last question -- almost finished." He stopped writing as he looked up at his professor. Don gazed into the uncaring brown eyes of the teacher standing before him and said, "Just five... more... minutes."
The professor's eyes glazed over as the suggestion was made. When Don looked back down to his exam sheets and picked up his pencil again, Mr. Jordan raised his voice and repeated, "Pencils down. Turn in your exam or take a zero for a grade, Mr. McElroy."
Frustrated, Don snapped his pencil in two, which impressed and worried Mr. Jordan since it was one of those fancy, expensive, metal mechanical pencils. Don folded the cover page back over to the top of the exam and handed the set of ten pages to the teacher. "Fine," he grunted. Don picked up his bookbag and walked out of the large auditorium classroom, leaving the professor alone.
Mr. Jordan put all of the tests into an envelope, making sure that Donovan McElroy's was on top. He casually tossed the envelope into his briefcase and shut the lid. He took the handle, straightened his tie, and then walked to the nearest exit. He turned off the lights and then pushed the door's bar handle, but the door didn't budge. The door next to it also remained shut.
He sighed as he gave up on this side of the room and hit the light switch. The lights did not come back on. Flipping the switch off and on again didn't help. His heart started to beat just a little faster as he wondered why this had to happen today.
He walked to the pair of doors on the other side of the lower end of the classroom. "Damn!" he said aloud as he found them to be locked as well. He looked up at the higher end of the room, towards the two pairs of doors at the top of the staggered walk of steps. His heart beat raced as he walked up the steps. When he got up to the top, he discovered that all four doors there were locked tight as well.
He cried out, "Hello! Is anyone out there? Don't lock up yet, I'm still in here!" He started banging his fists on the unmoving doors and then yelled, "This is Edward Jordan! I'm still inside! Is there anyone out there?"
Just then, the door in front of him opened. Mr. Jordan backed up as Don walked in. Don let the door close behind him as he entered -- the click of the door brought a dry grin to his face.
"You idiot!" Mr. Jordan yelled at Don, "Why the hell did you do that?"
Don's grin widened as he said, "Because your five minutes are up." In the darkness of the room, Mr. Jordan could have swore that he thought Don's eyes had a slight reddish glow to them. In fact, he did swear; it was the last thing he said as he turned around to run down the steps. He lost his footing as his pace quickened and he took a nasty tumble to the floor below.
As the pain of a twisted ankle and sore neck and back began to match his fear, the fear rose again as he thought Don seemed to float towards him. Don bent down and grabbed his teacher by the neck. He bared his canines and said, "Class dismissed." He then tore into Mr. Jordan's neck, drinking the rich, salty, red liquid that the carotid artery pumped forth.
When he drank his fill, killing his prey, Don felt the guilt finally hit him. A tear of blood rolled down his cheek as he cried out, "NO!!"
Don sat straight up in bed when the sun set. He looked around him and realized that he was far away from the university. He also found his beloved Lilith by his side, still sleeping peacefully. He decided not to wake her and tell her about his latest nightmare.
He didn't see any reason to disturb her rest along with his own. So, he gently brushed a few locks of her silky red hair out of her face, placing them over her ear. He then bent down and softly kissed her on the cheek. He slipped out of the covers and then tiptoed out of the room. It was time for him to get ready for his evening shift at the bar.
There was blood everywhere. The whitewashed walls seemed to weep the thick red liquid. The beige carpet was soaked in large crimson spots. The ceiling fan picked up speed after it had done its duty and began to fling more spots onto the ceiling. The body of the decapitated vampire fell to the floor at the feet of the other vampire in the room.
Catrina had watched the two vampires in their pointless battle. As usual, she was ignored as the vampires fought before her eyes. The vampires in her visions were always oblivious to her; this was no exception.
Catrina had these visions ever since she was a young child. Most of her foster parents were afraid of her "night visions" as she'd call them.
Dee Torino, her current foster mother, simply accepted Catrina's visions, without fear and without question. Catrina considered Dee to be the closest thing to a mother that she'd known in her short sixteen years. Catrina knew that she could tell Dee about her visions and Dee could always convincingly assure her that everything would be all right.
Tonight was no different. Catrina knew Dee would be up working on her students' exams for Monday night. She found her working at her desk. Dee looked up and asked, "Rough night again, Cat?"
Cat nodded, "Do you have a moment?"
"Of course," Dee replied as she placed her folder of exams aside. Cat sat down and told her mother about her latest vision, "It all started in a small house somewhere near the outskirts of Phoenix..."
Catrina found the small bar again. She'd come here often, even though she was under age. She knew the owner, Michael Barrett, and was good friends with the bartender, Donovan McElroy. Besides, no age limit was going to stop her from hearing her favorite local band, The Narrow Way, who was playing there that night.
"Trina!" Don called to her as she walked in, "you're out late tonight."
She smirked and responded, "It's not a school night... speaking of which, when are you going back to school?"
He grinned and replied, "As soon as your mom stops teaching Humanities -- she's tough."
She blushed and said, "Tell me about it. She keeps trying to get me interested in it... but I'm still in High School yet. It's like she can't believe how fast I've grown, and yet it's my fault that I haven't grown up fast enough! Oh well."
He laughed and asked, "Yeah, so, what'll you have?"
"Just a Coke tonight, Don," she smiled as she dropped some loose change on the bar.
"Got it," he said, then sprayed the fountain Coke into a tall Collins glass with lots of ice and two cherries, the way she liked it. He handed her the drink and swept the change into his palm. She watched him as he placed the change into the cash register.
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