Chapter Seven:

The Master has eyes everywhere. There is not one stone that will go unturned to him.

He sees everything.

So why does Thomas Eichhorst, his most loyal and diligent servant, feel the need to approach the Master in the matters of his recently discovered "Dear One"?

No. She wasn't "dear" to him. Eichhorst did not love her. He did not feel any kind of affection for this pathetic and weak pig. She only carried the same blood as he once did, and this, disturbs and upsets Eichhorst greatly. He wants her. He needs her...to turn; to become one of them. For these creatures, they could not- cannot, be complete unless all in their bloodline had the same strain of worms as The Master. This desire could only be compared on levels to one in which they wished to drape themselves in the skin of those they had cut; to be "one" with them.

Eichhorst wanted her to be one with him.

The Master waited, deep underground of a processing plant, for the arrival of his elite servant; waiting quietly, ever-so patiently.

After some time, Eichhorst made his appearance and stood before his master. He observed The Master with concern and worriment twinkling in his eyes. The Master had recently come out of an attack by a group of rebellious humans, led by none other than their enemy- the Jew, Abraham Setrakian. They had forced The Master out into the sunlight, damaging the king vampire tenfold- but alas, did not kill him. They underestimated him. The sun's rays may kill any of the lesser creatures instantly, but not The Master. He can endure much more than the rest. He cannot be destroyed as easily. Foolish humans.

Even though the sunlight didn't kill The Master; however, it still did tremendous damage to his body. His marble skin began rotting away, either peeling or falling off his body entirely. The pieces that still lingered...the ones that refused to fall, The Master plucked them off himself and let them plop to the ground. The skin revealed diseased muscle and tissue underneath, with infectious worms coursing nearly to the surface.

Eichhorst approached The Master, kneeling before him as if in the presence of great royalty. "Mein Meister. My liege," Eichhorst spoke breathlessly, bowing his head respectfully.

The Master spoke to him; his voice deep and hoarse, laced with an ancient accent of unknown origins, "Eichhorst," He peered down at Eichhorst, the sclera of his eyes glowing brightly. "I know what it is you hunger for..." He paused a moment, looking into Eichhorst's mind of recent memories he had attained. And through those particular thoughts, The Master "saw" Claire. "The female..."

The body, whom The Master resided in, Jusef Sardu, he too, had Dear Ones. Even though The Master had slain all of Sardu's famiy, they were not the only ones Sardu took great kindness and care in: the children. In the village where Sardu lived, the small children always greeted him warmly and happily. He cherished every moment with them as if they were his own family. It was sad to say they treated him better than any of his real family did.

The Master, in Jusef Sardu's body, would swiftly and silently kidnap the children in the night, and did so without the little ones ever making a sound. He drank from them; hungrily and greedily, like he always has. He was almost tempted to keep them around- to make them his Dear Ones. But The Master's consciousness in Sardu...he denied that right. Once he had his fill of the children, he twisted off their heads- their fragile bones making quick work of it. He did not want them turning. The Master wanted no part in loved ones returning from the dead to stand by his side. He didn't want to feel the "need" of them.

And so, The Master stared down with his cold, animalistic eyes, wondering why Eichhorst would want this. The Master- he too couldn't help but become a bit taken aback by the revelation of the former Nazi Commandant having someone of his bloodline come forth and reveal themselves. He had read Eichhorst's thoughts. The Master could feel the German's interests peeking, and then the revulsion of knowing that she existed. It was a thorn in Eichhorst's side. It was a scar on his skin that would never heal. It was a cancer that would never leave. It was a needy child ever-clinging to its mother's leg. To want something, then to despise it at the same time, was definitely a sickness in itself for Eichhorst, like a human's addiction to alcohol, cigarettes, or junk food.

So why did Eichhorst desire for the descendent he never knew? It was still a conundrum- even to him. Perhaps it stemmed from pride that he was able to produce an offspring in the first place. Perhaps it was the fact that she, in this dying world, would be the last of his bloodline, and not because the world was slowing turning. She would be the last and true "Eichhorst".

Remaining on one knee, Eichhorst said, "I wish to have her at my side."

"You desire to make her your own..."

Eichhorst lifted his head to The Master. "Yes..." he said anxiously. "I want to make her my servant. My...acolyte..."

The Master titled his head ever so slightly, studying Eichhorst. He wondered if he should promise this particular female to the German. The young woman in question had no defining traits about her, other than the art she produced. She served no real purpose in The Master's new world. In The Master's eyes, she would merely just be a "trophy" of sorts to Eichhorst. The Master didn't see why he couldn't offer this small gesture to Eichhorst, for all his loyal servitude.

"Yes, Eichhorst..." The Master replied. "You may have the female...to do with as you see fit."


It was a dreary day on Claire's birthday, as with all the other days. The other family that stayed in the penthouse, the Yates, have taken off sometime during the wee hours of the morning. They didn't mention or even leave a note as to where they were going. One can only assume they were going to try and make their way out of New York by any means possible. This angered Claire somewhat; the family having taken off without regards to her own family or the others. In the back of her mind though, she knew why they did this: it was every man for himself at this rate- or in this case, every family for themselves. The Yates family had small children they needed to think of first and foremost before anyone else. In a way...Claire couldn't blame them for doing what they did.

During the day, the Wright family stopped by the hospital where Sarah Pommel had been admitted. The state of the hospital put Claire on edge. There was so much chaos within its walls. So many sick patients. So many injured patients. So many families waiting to be helped or waiting for news of a loved one. The worst part of it all: there were so-few doctors and nurses attending to all these people.

Ever since the doctors and nurses had brought Sarah in through the depths of their facility, the Pommel family had not heard a word about her condition. Once in a while, a doctor or nurse would come out to tell them that Sarah was in critical condition and could not have visitors at this time.

"No one will tell us anything," said Mr. Pommel mournfully, continuing to comfort his wife and oldest daughter sitting on either side of him. "We haven't heard from them since early this morning."

Claire and the rest of her family stood out in the waiting room with the Pommel family, with Aunt Trish and Uncle Ben trying as hard as they could to console their closest friends.

"They didn't tell you anything? About what's wrong with Sarah?" Uncle Ben wondered, partially skeptical about the situation.

Mrs. Pommel scoffed loudly, kneeling forward to rest her arms on her legs. "We don't know what the hell's going on, or if she's even okay," She sniffled, holding back more tears from coming forth.

Claire just watched them silently, looking down on them with sympathy...and guilt.

Mr. Pommel straightened himself in an attempt on regaining some semblance of sanity. "Lisa and I talked it over, and decided she's going to take Amber back home. We have a friend here who might help getting us across the state border."

The Wright's looked on to them with astonished expressions. "You found a way out of here?" Aunt Trish asked.

Mr. Pommel looked at her. "Yeah. We didn't even know he was here. We ran into each other here while waiting for Sarah. God- it's almost like a miracle we found each other of all places..." He sighed deeply. "Anyways, Amber wants to get some of her things back at the penthouse before she goes..."

Aunt Trish turned to Claire. "Maybe you can go with Amber to help her out?"

Claire shot a wide-eyed stare at her aunt, indicating she did not want to do this.

Aunt Trish hastily took Claire over to the corner of the room, out of earshot. "Maybe you can try talking to Amber," she told Claire quietly. "I think she really needs someone to talk to."

Claire crossed her arms defensively. "And how is talking with me going to help? I barely even know her."

Aunt Trish scoffed. "I don't know, Claire. Just go and help her pack- that's all I'm asking. And after that's said and done, when you see Amber off in a taxi, we can all meet up at that Italian restaurant we talked about." Claire remained with her arms crossed, staring past her aunt. "Please, Claire. Do this for me."

Claire let out a defeated sigh, not wanting to disappoint her aunt. "Okay."

Aunt Trish placed a hand against Claire's face, and it was then she noticed that tears were welling in her eyes. "Hey, hey, hey... What's the matter?"

Claire sniffled, peering into her aunt's eyes. "I just...don't want to be away from you guys...," she confessed in a sobbing voice, wiping one of her eyes. "That's all, you know. With everything that's going on."

"You'll be fine, Claire," Aunt Trish reassured her warmly, smiling. "Ben and I just want to stick around and ask them about that friend of theirs, and I'm sure it'll make them feel better if Amber didn't go back to the penthouse alone." Claire wiped another lingering tear away. "And I want us all to get out of here as soon as possible. If Mark and Lisa know someone that can do that, Ben and I really need to know if they can help us." Claire eventually nodded in understanding.

Aunt Trish hugged Claire tightly, and Claire did the same. It was childish and pathetic on her part, but at these times of crisis, Claire felt some semblance of self and security when she was nearest to those she cared for the most. Being with her aunt and uncle, and even Chris- being with them made her feel safe; made her feel whole.

Aunt Trish let out a breath, tapping Claire's shoulder to let go. "You're going to see me again. I promise."

Claire stifled more tears. She took her aunt's words for it, but somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind...she felt a horrible dread wash over her of things to come...

When they released each other, Claire said her farewells for the time being, and after watching Amber talk amongst her parents for a minute, the girls then left the hospital and got into the next available taxi.

The car ride, although somewhat of a short distance from the hospital to the hotel, was definitely a depressing one. Claire gazed out the window, and what once were streets packed full of all kinds of vehicles...what once were sidewalks and crosswalks full of hustle and bustle of all kinds of people...was virtually gone. Now what mostly remained were huddled, scared individuals quickly scurrying off from one place to another, almost like rats. There were people with sick masks across their faces, obviously to protect themselves from whatever ailment has struck the others. Some stores were looted. Some stores closed permanently, while others remained courageous to keep them opened to the public.

The sight reminded Claire of a few pandemic movies that she watched some years ago. A disease, starting from one, small "thing", and then sweeps across the globe, sending everyone and everything into a state of turmoil. Claire wondered if those movies were now coming true right before her eyes.

Claire looked over at Amber. Before the epidemic started, Amber took great care of her appearance, more than Claire did of herself. Amber's long, blonde hair was always curled and styled to perfection. Even the outfits she choose always accommodated to the weather and how she felt. Now...she almost looked the complete opposite of her former self. Amber's hair was matted and dirty, obviously haven't showered since the day Sarah was admitted. All around, Amber didn't care anymore how she presented herself to anyone, and it showed.

Claire stared ahead, her eyes darting to little things all around the taxi; ultimately trying to think of what to say to Amber in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Everything's just...so surreal now, don't you-"

"Don't!" Amber instantly shot up her hands to shut up Claire. Amber took a few deep breaths in order to keep herself from breaking down in front of her. "Just...don't, okay? I know what you're trying to do, so just...don't."

Claire turned away from Amber, sighing quietly. "I...I am sorry though."

Amber ended up propping her elbow against the door and rested her head in her hand. It remained silent like this between them for the rest of the ride.

Once the taxi stopped in front of the hotel, Claire payed the faire and got out with Amber. The two made their way into the establishment and immediately headed for the elevators. And good thing too, because the hotel was appearing emptier and deserted with each passing day, and the more they lingered in the now dim rooms of the place, the more nervous it made Claire. She figured that their chances of being attacked probably increased exponentially since they first arrived.

When they got to the penthouse floor and stepped off the elevator, Amber continued on ahead while Claire's eyes went to one of the corners of the hall. It was there that she encountered that strange...man the other day; disheveled and sickly in appearance. To her, he resembled what once was a human being. In the spot where he was crouched, there were traces of the blood he dripped, dried and staining the carpet.

Claire snapped out of her reminiscence, and she finally noticed that Amber wasn't stopping for her, so Claire quickly jogged down the hall until she caught up with her.

Amber swiped her cardkey in the reader and opened the door, and not a moment too soon, for once they were inside, Claire hastily closed the door and made sure the lock was in place. Claire felt safer in the penthouse than anywhere else at this time.

Amber couldn't help but blurt out bluntly, "Paranoid much?" As she sauntered right into the girls' bedroom.

Claire backed away from the door, now turning towards Amber. "Yeah, well, I don't know if you noticed, but it's not safe out there anymore."

"Whatever."

Claire followed Amber into the bedroom, and watched the younger girl drag out her suitcases from under her bed and begin to pack them with the things she brought on the trip. As Claire continued to watch, feeling awkward about it, she shrugged her shoulders and asked, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Amber stopped for a moment, thinking. "... Yeah. I...left some of my hairsprays and junk in my parents' bedroom upstairs. Can you go get them?" Claire nodded and left the room.

Claire briskly went up the stairs, and that's when she slowly came to a halt in the large living room. It was then she noticed that the whole penthouse did appear ever-so slightly darker than usual Looking towards the large, bay windows that arched across the top near the roof, normally the windows were the main source of light during the day, and at night, it was the lighting fixtures and lamps that illuminated the rooms. Now, however, the curtains were drawn over them, preventing much of the light from flooding in. Claire furrowed her brows suspiciously. "I don't remember the curtains being drawn. ... Maybe someone closed them before we left..." Claire shrugged it off, knowing there were more important things to worry about than whom may have shut the curtains.

She walked into the Pommel's bedroom and to the dresser, spotting the hairsprays and other little makeups that belonged to Amber. She could see why Amber would go into the bedroom to do her hair and makeup. The dresser had a very large, vanity mirror, which the bedroom all the other girls used did not have this. Claire got Amber's haircare products and makeup and made her way back to the other bedroom, where Amber was just about done packing her suitcases. When Claire handed Amber the rest of her things, she didn't even acknowledge or thank Claire for getting them. Amber just wanted to get it over with.

Amber lugged a few of her suitcases to the entrance doors, while Claire got the rest and wheeled them next to Amber. "So...you got everything?"

Amber nodded solemnly, eyes going to each suitcase to make sure she had them all with her.

Claire knew Amber was ready to leave, and at the back of Claire's mind...something was nagging at her. It began when the Wright family were with the Pommels in the hospital. What started out small- this little voice- had now become loud and known, making its presence all the more clearer. It was the guilt; the guilt that was making Claire feel visibly sick every day for not telling anyone about what happened to Sarah that night. And it couldn't be just a coincidence; the younger girl getting sick shortly after she was attacked by that deranged man. He must of been diseased with something to infect Sarah with whatever ailed her.

Infected...

"... Amber..."

Amber turned to Claire tiredly.

Claire was terrified to say what was weighing on her mind, but she told herself to just say it; like ripping a Band Aid off quickly and not think about the aftermath of the pain that would follow. "That night when we went to the movies, and when Sarah forgot her cellphone, so I went back with her there... We were...attacked..."

Amber merely blinked. Her weary head was still processing Claire's words.

"He didn't take anything from either of us, he just...I don't know- he hit Sarah with something and left a scar on her arm. I didn't think much of it, but...Sarah seemed like she gotten sick shortly after that."

When Claire's words finally hit Amber, her eyes grew wide...and angry.

Claire felt the panic rise within her. "Sarah was filming him, and I told her to stay away from him-"

"And you...and you told no one about this?" Said Amber, her voice growing more infuriated with each passing word.

Claire fidgeted nervously. "N-no... But-"

Amber growled and threw her arms forward, shoving Claire out of pent-up rage. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Amber yelled. "You thought to just keep this to yourself?!"

"Sarah didn't want me to tell anyone! She didn't think it was a big deal!-"

"Oh- my God! Are you serious? What if- what if my sister dies, Claire?! What were you- just going to keep this to yourself forever or something?"

"That's why I'm telling you now! I think...I think maybe that crazy man infected Sarah with something-"

"UGH!" Amber paced around hectically, her arms and hands making all kinds of gestures. It was clear she didn't know what to say or do with herself now; too angry and scared to even think straight. "I-I...I gotta get out of here."

Amber took whatever luggage she could hold at the time and made her way to the doors. She undid the locks and threw the doors open. Before she stormed out, she turned back to Claire. Her eyes could burn holes. "If my sister dies...if she isn't already dead...it's all your fault!"

And with that, Amber walked right out the door.

Claire slowly and quietly shut the door after her...and immediately started crying loudly. She knew this would happen. She knew this was the price for not telling anyone about what happened that night...and now she was paying for it. "I'm so sorry..." Claire wept into the door, sniffling. "I wish...I really wish it was me that got sick...and not Sarah. ...I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry..."

She didn't know how long she remained against the door crying, but once she calmed down a bit, she glanced over her shoulder to see the rest of Amber's luggage sitting there. She was supposed to help Amber out with them, but that was before Claire told her about Sarah. Amber wouldn't want Claire anywhere near her after that. Would she come back soon for the rest of her things? With everything that's been going on, Claire was sure Amber just wanted to get back to her parents and leave New York as soon as possible.

Eventually, Claire's family would find out what she did, but not anytime soon, she hoped. Without the use of cellphones or any kind of wireless technology, there was no way they would know right away. Claire wanted it to stay that way...at least until after her birthday. Things were bad enough as it is without her whole family yelling and screaming at her for her immature decisions.

Claire sniffled some more, then straightened herself up. She didn't want to meet up with her family looking red-eyed and teary from all the crying. Since all the master bedrooms upstairs had large, personal bathrooms, Claire decided to use one to spruce up before heading out.

She flushed out her puffy red eyes with water, smoothed out some of her hair, and reapplied her eye makeup carefully. Once she was through, she reexamined herself in the mirror. ... Yeah, she appeared presentable enough. She was semi-ready to face the world again.

She strode out of the bathroom and headed for the stairs.

"Claire..."

She instantly froze. "I don't know that voice."

She hoped she was hearing things. "This can't be real!"

She slowly turned around to face it. "It's just in my mind... It's just in my mind!..."

Her heart began to race frantically - eyes wide in terror as she now stood before the source of the voice. There, sitting in one of the large, leather reading chairs, was the gentleman dressed in the black suit.

"Y-you..." Claire breathed frightfully.

Eichhorst smiled.

"Liebling..." He purred.