The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Since the rural town had been isolated by the furious winter storm and all access was non-existent the post apocalyptic community was with visitors from parts unknown and with out law and order.



A small girl’s body had been found by the outskirts of town. She had been raped and strangled to death. In the furious violent and last moments of her life she had flailed at her assailant blindly grabbing at anything she could touch as if drowning. The pain and terror was subsiding, she was dying, her broken body; unable to send the messages of pain to her brain any longer. The shadow of her attacker now backed away and faded from sight. In her hand she clutched the necklace and charm that had previously rested around her killer’s neck. Under her finger nails was freshly scraped flesh from the killer’s neck.



The killer had stopped suddenly and withdrawn from her. He had been disturbed. The search party looking for the girl had come upon his hiding place and discovered her body with him nearby, just short of witnessing the atrocity.



The girl’s parents were waiting at the town hall. Athon Xen had led the search party. His gut told him a small child would not wander far from her parents in a storm such as this. He had found the girls and mans tracks in the snow and followed them here.



The search party, a group of five consisted of Athon Xen, Celon Vex, A man and his son, a twenty something mechanic from the town and his girlfriend. Athon had learned little about them since his arrival a day earlier.



The killer, a large framed man in his late thirty’s or early forties wore a long winter parka. It was unzipped. His t-shirt was partially tucked in and his fly was left down in his haste to recover from his murderous deed. His neck red from where the chain clasp broke from the struggle. The girl’s tiny claw marks streaked from the side of his neck forward. Athon Xen felt the reality if the situation beginning to take hold in his chest. Athon approached the girl’s body. As he knelt beside her still warm body he thought how peaceful she looked for having been through something so horrendous. He reached down and gently lifted the chain from her now flaccid grip. In a single motion he stood turned and threw the necklace at the killer all in a pointing motion. It landed at the killer’s feet.



“Lose something?” Athon questioned in an emotionless voice.

The killer looked down in horror at the necklace. He began to pace in an imaginary three foot diameter circle. “It’s not mine…I just found her there right before you came in…I was…looking for her… too”. He stammered.

Athon stared through him as he spoke. “There is no judicial system here for you to hide behind.” The killer’s eyes grew wide. He reached out his hands, shaking them frantically. He became angered, his posture now defensive. “You can’t do anything to me, you’re not a cop.” Then the mechanic’s girlfriend spoke. “We still have laws, even if there is no police.” The killer looked at the woman, then the girl’s body and finally Athon Xen. “When the storm breaks I’ll leave. You’ll never see me again.”



Athon reached to his side and removed his Smith and Wesson M&P 40 from his holster. As he dropped his arm to his side he released the safety.



With out emotion Athon asked if he would ever kill rape and child again. The killer looked at Athon. His eyes narrowed as he spoke. “You don’t know what I’ve done” he said as his mouth formed a nervous jagged grin in defiance.



The shot rang out with a loud bang. The .40 caliber hollow point round struck the killer center mass right below the sternum. Before anyone could react the killer stumbled back a step and collapsed into a pile. The "tink tink" of the brass casing as it bounced and then stopped was interupted by Athon's voice.



“I believe him.” Athon said dryly as he engaged the safety and return his gun to its holster.



© AET 2008, Allrights reserved.

The smoke of an early morning cigarette spiraled lazily upwards from Detective Rowley’s desk. The night before had proved to nothing more than an acute case of acid reflux and insomnia. The latest case he was to work on, the captain informed him, was to work on the recent rash of disappearances. Grounds keepers, teenagers and miscellaneous mourners all missing or found dead. Cops at the scene had confirmed the victims were all very dead and very mutilated.



His newest partner, Gary White, broke through the door at the end of the long open office space fumbling though his pockets for a breath mint. White was a clean cut good looking man in his early twenties. A recent graduate from both the local community college and officer’s training. He had all American boyish face and welcoming almost giddy smile. His suite was freshly pressed and his skinny bright green tie contrasted against his powder blue shirt. Detective Mark Rowley began to immediately resent his newly assigned partner. As a seventeen year veteran in the homicide department Rowley was sure he could do without a tag along. As he watched the stylish young Gary white bounce towards him he began to wish for a beautiful young blond and a large gin martini.

White plopped himself in the chair facing Rowley and grabbed the report from the pile of folders on Rowley’s desk.



“Must be some kind of serial killer we’re after, what cha think Rowels?”

“Listen rookie, don’t get cozy with me…my name is Lieutenant Rowley.” Rowley stared cold and hard in to White’s innocent eyes.



Rowley never could be anything more than miserable on an early Monday morning.



“Hey LT, how do you suppose we’re going to catch this guy? Think we’re going to have to spend some time hanging around graveyards waiting for some sick-o to start hacking up the gardener with his own shovel?”



Rowley scowled at White. He knew the answer already. “Yes, either we do what it takes to solve this or we get to take over crosswalk duty at Riverdale Elementary.” “The chief has made it very clear that we will not be picking and choosing our work loads.”



White looked up from the case folder grinning. “Guess we better head out and find some leads.” “No shit White.”



The two of them walked through the parking lot, neither one saying a word. Rowley with only two years before he could retire with full pension walked stiffly behind White as he nearly bounced his way to the car. Rowley was tired, his joints ached, his breath seemed shorter every day and he couldn’t seem to find anything to bring him happiness anymore. He got into the old Dodge Coronet and slammed the door, maybe just a bit harder than needed. The ride to the crime scene was with out conversation save for the occasional static filled radio chatter. Rowley mused how this car, though unmarked screamed police.



They pulled up to cemetery gates and as they passed through the paved roadway ended. The gravel nicked at the underside of the car as it rolled down the drive. This particular cemetery was old and most of its original residents dated back to the 1800’s. They passed the newer sites with granite headstones polished and standing perfectly upright. As the drove into the older sections there were several broken and cracked headstones, some partially eroded, some stained from years of weathering the elements and one with a fresh marking of spray paint fro some drunken teens that had lurked there, intoxicated in the past summer months.



They were approaching the crime scene. A large garage sized Mausoleum. The granite had darkened with age and the foundation was feathered with cracks around its circumference. The ivy had grown over the doors and windows and had begun to change form a rich green to a vibrant deep red. Rowley always wondered why anyone would bother putting windows on a building that houses dead bodies.



As they exited the vehicle and began walking towards the door on the mausoleum Rowley notice the blood stained steps leading up to it. The large pools of blood had since dried and darkened. The streaks and patterns though the blood stains hinted that something had been dragged though them.



In order to see the exact place the victim had been found they would have to walk over these stains and enter the structure. Ironically Rowley had never acquired a comfort with dead things and this case was making him long for retirement more and more. Rowley stopped just short of the first step and stared at the blood stains. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a cigarette and began to pat himself down in search of a lighter.



White’s voice broke the silence. “Hey Rowley?”

“Yeah?” Rowley muttered through his partially clenched teeth.

“Are we gonna go in? I mean don’t you think we should take a look?” White asked. His voice was full of anticipation, like a kid on Christmas morning.

“You first” Rowley continued to mutter. “Where’s my god damn lighter?”

“You left it on your desk.” White said almost gleefully.



The door until recently had been locked for years. There was nothing indicating it was a crime scene. No barrier tape and no printed notices were visible. Rowley figured no one would want to enter the crypt anyway.

“Curiosity killed the cat, satisfaction brought it back” Rowley thought to himself. He pushed the wrought iron and wood door. It didn’t budge. He pushed and pulled up and down on the lever. The lever moved reluctantly, grinding its internal mechanisms against itself. He pushed again. The door remained closed. “The lock’s broken” Rowley said, with a hint of relief in voice White looked at the door quizzically. “I think you have to pull it”.



Rowley jammed the handle towards the ground and pulled, so hard he nearly hit himself in the face with the cumbersome door as it swung easily into his personal space. White pointed out that there was no name on the mausoleum, At least none that could be seen from their vantage point. As Rowley pulled the door the rest of the way open it creaked and moaned almost as it were in pain. The mausoleum was ripe with a potpourri of aroma. The smell of damp granite, recently dried blood, leaves, dirt and something else filled the air. Death was in the air. The room was unlit and had no modern lighting fixtures. Rowley sent White to the car to get a flashlight. The light flooding in through the door way revealed an empty room. This chamber had a carved granite bench along the left wall. Next to the bench stood a moderately sized candelabrum. The candles had long since been burned down in to their respective holders. Along the right wall was a steep descending stairway. It appeared to vanish right in to the floor. Rowley couldn’t make out what was beyond first steps. It was cloaked by shadow. The room was surprisingly clean, free of dust or cobwebs. The thickness of the air was stifling. White came quickly up the steps where Rowley stood stopping directly in front of him. White pressed his face close to Rowley’s. A splash of light startled Rowley as White held the lit flashlight under his chin creating and eerie semblance of White’s cherubim face. “I’ve come to suck your blood” White said in his best Lugosi imitation. Rowley push back from White. “Stop fucking around and give me the light, White!” Rowley grabbed the flashlight from White. White’s face was now that of a child pouting.

“Do you ever lighten up Rowley?”

“No”.

“Those blood stains keep going over there” Rowley pointed the light to the stairs.

“Creepy” White said under his breath.

“Go check it out.” Rowley ordered. “And don’t touch anything. I’ll be at the car.”

“Nic fit? Smoking will kill you Lieutenant.”



Rowley went back to the car. He needed a cigarette, but that wasn’t his reason for leaving the mausoleum. He felt uneasiness, a guttural instinctive fear twisting his bowels; Almost nauseous. Rowley fumbled with the car lighter as it popped from its receptacle. As he put red hot end of the lighter to the cigarette it glowed bright yellow-orange. Rowley inhaled deeply.