3

The Journey

Prelude

Thirsty. I was so thirsty. But it was not water I craved…it was…something else. I couldn't put my finger on what I craved but my throat burned from desire for this unknown substance.

I had just awakened from a terrible nightmare. In my dream, I felt myself burning, from the inside of my body outward, consuming me to the point where I ought to be ashes. But yet, I saw no flames. And the burning, it felt so real. Dreams, even when they be nightmares, never felt as real as this.

I was unaware of my surroundings until this point. I was in what appeared to be a cellar, full of moldy, rotting potatoes. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of the potatoes. What circumstances could have possibly brought me to this unknown basement? I could not remember-my mind was a bit blurry on the details.

I felt odd. I felt lighter, stronger, and I seemed to have better eyesight than I ever had in my short lifetime of twenty-three years. I moved over to a small sliver of light coming from a crack in the cellar wall. A second had not even seemed to pass by before I was at the tiny sliver of light. How strange.

I had been able to hear the hustle and bustle of what seemed to be quite a large city outside of the cellar before I made it to the crack in the wall. I peered out the crack, and found myself looking at the feet of many people scurrying by. The people of London were most likely taking advantage of the bit of sunlight that was ever so rare. London! Ah, yes, London! I remembered where I was now.

I stopped peeking out the window when I saw something glistening near my hand, which was resting on my knee at the time, in direct contact with the tiny light sliver. What in the world? Indeed, it was not something near my hand-it wasmy hand! I flipped my hand over, fascinated, and horrified. My palm sparkled like dew on grass, though my hand was not wet.

I became still as a stone. All I heard in the cellar was the sound of my breathing, and my heartbe-

No! This could not be! I strained my ears, listening for the distinct sound of my heart. With my increased sense of hearing, I ought to have easily heard it. However, I could not find it. I pressed my palm to my chest, waiting to feel the faint fluttering of my heart. I could not find it either. Desperate now, I frantically laid two fingers onto my wrist, then my neck, feeling for a pulse. There was none.

Chapter One

Change

"Ready, Carlisle?" my father asked.

"About as ready as I'll ever be," I replied. I had never liked going on the hunts for monsters.

We stood in front of the gathering of fifty men, all of who were brandishing a weapon. Pitchforks, rifles, and torches (the latter of which also was used as light to see by) were the most popular choice of weaponry. Every man had around his neck a crucifix or a head of garlic. According to superstition, vampires were afraid of crucifixes and garlic. Therefore, anyone wearing one of these would remain unharmed by vampires. I had my doubts about these superstitions. To me, it made little sense why a vampire would be scared off by a piece of metal or an herb, so I took my chances and wore neither.

I figured that the large number of men had to do with the fact that this was my first official vampire hunt I was conducting on my own. My father, and pastor of an Anglican church in London, Amos Cullen, had been schooling me for most of my twenty-three years on how to hunt for vampires, along with werewolves and witches. He never found any true monsters, but he burned at the stake many innocent people who he thought to be an evil influence. This would be his first time of staying behind. I'm getting too old, he said.

A few men, who were new to hunting monsters, looked uneasy, as if they were regretting participating in the hunt. They probably were not anticipating the possibility of finding actual monsters. Other men, who were more experienced, were bragging about how many monsters they would kill.

I turned to address the men. Immediately, a hush went over the gathering.

I explained to the men our plan for searching the city. The fifty men would be split into five groups of ten and sent out into the heart of London. My father and I had chosen beforehand nine men to lead all but one of the groups. I would lead the tenth group myself.

We all broke off into our groups once I had finished explaining the plan. Everyone headed out to do battle against the monsters of London.

I lead my group into an alley behind some shops. It was terribly dark in the alley, despite the torches. We looked in every nook and cranny, bin and box. I suppose with the noise we were making we would have scared off any monster that would have been in the area. I knew that despite the bravado that a few of the men tried to show, we were all scared to death that we might actually find something.

I jumped when one of the men dropped their pitchfork. Being in the dark alley was making me as jumpy as a rabbit. I didn't want to find any monsters here. If I was to find a monster, I wanted there to be more of an escape route for my men and I. The alley limited us too much for me to feel safe.

After a thorough search of the alley, I brought my men around to the street. I breathed a sigh of relief. If we were to find monsters tonight, at least we would have a better chance to escape.

"Search the sewers," I called out to the men. "It is possible we may find something hiding down there."

Five men started checking the sewers out further down the street, while the rest began searching near where I stood. I was keeping watch over the street, making sure all men were accounted for at all times.

"Do you really think that there could be something down there?" one of the men nearby asked me.

"I'm not really sure. I just have this feeling like we ought to search them anyway."

"It can't hurt," he agreed.

One young man, brandishing a pitchfork and reeking like garlic, ran breathlessly up to where I stood.

"Sir," he said to me, "We believe that someone is living in the sewers down there." He pointed to the direction of the group of four men that he had come from. "Come and see what you think."

The young man hurried back down the street. I and the rest of the men in my group followed close behind.

"We think that it's vampires, sir. Can't be sure, but we think there's several of 'em down there." He pointed in the direction of the sewer in question. The other four men backed as far away from the sewer as possible and held their weapons out in front of them, ready to attack.

I listened for noises coming from the sewer. Sure enough, it sounded as though someone was down there. Or more accurately, several someones seemed to be down in the sewer. Was it possible this was a true vampire coven?

A thrill of excitement-or perhaps it was fear-shivered down my spine. I despised the idea of killing a human being, even if they were monsters. They probably didn't even choose that life. But the overwhelming want to please my father squashed any brief feelings of compassion towards the vampires.

I and my group rounded up the rest of the men out on the streets of London who were a part of the vampire hunt. I think a few more volunteers joined us when they heard that we had found a potential coven of vampires.

I had no idea what to expect when the vampires would emerge from the sewers, but I figured there had to be a safety in numbers. Surely the vampires would be easily overtaken with this many people. Of course, I also knew that things could end badly for us all as well. So we sat and waited.

I wasn't sure how long we waited there, but it had to be well past midnight.

I was starting to consider sending everyone home when a shadow emerged from the sewer. Despite the glow from our torches, the streets were still dark. The shadow moved so quickly, I had difficulty focusing on it.

The shadow moved away from the light, trying to stay near the silhouettes of the buildings. He stopped, and I was able to see that it was a man. Though he was in the shadows, I could see he was as pale as snow, with ragged hair and clothes. He reminded me of a corpse, only without bodily decay.

His body movements were ones of indecision. Should he go or should he stay? I wasn't sure if I wanted him to stay.

His eyes caught the reflection of the torchlight. I gasped, as did all the men alongside of me. The man's eyes were a dark burgundy, a color that was completely inhuman.

A shiver went down my spine. Surely this was a vampire. It had to be! Suddenly, I wanted to be anywhere but here. The urge to run the other way was overwhelming.

I wasn't the only one who felt that way either. All the men began to talk anxiously among themselves. A few of the men stole out of the back of the mob, running down the street in a mad dash for home.

During this moment of our indecision, the vampire began to slowly back away, his eyes never leaving us for a second. His movements, slower than before, were still fluid in movement, almost as if he was dancing. He was going to try escape.

"After him!" I shouted.

The air was loud with battlecries of the men as we charged towards the vampire. I felt a surge of confidence. I was sure that we would overcome him-after all, we had mass numbers on our side.

The vampire sprinted down the street, running in the shadows as best as he could. We charged down the street behind him.

But then, he stopped. He turned to face us, his devilish red eyes gleaming in the torchlight. With a savage cry, he lunged towards us, his teeth bared.

That was when all hell broke loose.

The shouts and cries of men who were running for their lives was deafening. No one wanted to be anywhere near this undead beast.

The vampire quickly caught up to us in mere seconds. With a shriek, he lept on the back of an older man who had been struggling to keep up the fast pace. The man was brought down with a thud. Over the chaos, I could hear the old man's neck being broken.

A handful of men heard the snap, and stopped running, as did I. The vampire wasted no time and attacked two men, leaving their bodies limp and lifeless in the street.

No. This could not be happening. "No, no, no!" I yelled. I picked up a gun from one of the dead men. I aimed at the vampire and fired. Through the gunsmoke, I could see the bullet as it ricocheted off the vampire's chest with a loud ping, as if the bullet had hit a boulder.

The monster turned slowly to face me. He smiled, though it looked more like a grimace. His blood red eyes silently mocked me.

I knew I ought to start running, but my feet were like lead. As the vampire began to walk towards me, I began to tremble. The gun fell from my hands.

Then he was in front of me. I could taste his breath. It tasted like death.

His fingers brushed my neck. "Do not be afraid," he said in a whisper. He leaned closer to me. I could feel his lips on my neck.

And then pain. His teeth grinded into my neck. I cried out, and went limp, falling to the ground in agony. As I fell, he was right there beside me, never letting go. I could feel my strength draining out of me, along with my blood.

A round of shots rang out, and gunsmoke filled the air. I could hear the bullets ricochet off the vampire. He shrieked with rage, though I knew the bullets had not hurt him.

He dropped me from his hands, and he rose to go after the ones who shot at him.

Pain coursed through my veins like a fire. I heard the vampire kill the remaining men as he drank of their blood, and eventually leaving. I had been forgotten.

I knew I could not stay where I was. The townspeople would make sure anyone such as I who had survived the attack would be burned. I somehow managed to drag myself along the road, eventually finding an unused cellar filled with rotten potatoes that I hid in. There, I could let the pain take over, consuming every part of me.