"Come on! The feds'll be here by morning! We gotta get this done now," Carlos hissed.
"Back off. I know what I'm doing," Anne shot back. "How many times we done this?"
"Not enough for perfection. Now put in the keywords so we can get this huge cross out of the way."
Richter keyed in some words on a small portable palm-pilot-esque appliance and a creaking noise sounded through the halls. The cross moved to one side, and they made their way inside.
"Holy Christ…" Velora swore when he saw the huge casket. "Is that…"
"Silver. Or platinum. Something expensive," she answered. "Get the crowbar; we're gonna pry these suckers off."
"Are you crazy?" he spat. "Why don't we just take the whole damn thing? It'll pay off more than just the decorations."
"Because two people cannot carry this thing out of here. Now let's settle for the crosses and leave."
Carlos swore as he dug in his backpack for a crowbar. When he'd found one, Anne stepped back a bit towards the doorway as he went to work. When Velora got into it, standing near him and a pry-bar was lethally dangerous.
He tore off three smaller crosses from the edges when he finally noticed the relatively larger one in the center. Easing the bar under it, he pushed down hard and the silver crucifix popped off.
He caught it out of the air and examined it. The back had been specially attacked to the actual coffin, to a small tube of metal within that almost made the cross look like a…
"A key," he muttered. "Well, worst comes to worst, we can rob the dead body."
Anne was getting a creepy feeling in her stomach. Something wasn't right. Van Helsing had basic pitfalls in here; how come they hadn't seen any yet? Where were the medieval safeguards?
Suddenly she heard a horrible noise. Carlos had lifted the lid off the coffin a tiny bit, but suddenly a row of sharpened steel pikes dove out of the roof, pinning him through the shoulder blades to the sarcophagus. As he lay, skewered and whimpering in pain, Anne heard a screeching and spun around to see a wall of spikes fall down through the doorway. She threw out her hands to protect herself and felt both palms get impaled.
Anne wailed in pain and pulled her hands off the spikes. They were bloody and ragged, but she still made to help Carlos. His mouth was leaking blood all over the silver coffin and a stream of it ran from his back wounds.
She tried to pull the stakes out, and slowly they cranked back up. She pulled him off and lay on the floor with him, trying to stop the bleeding.
He coughed and sprayed blood over her face, but she didn't care. "Carlos!" she cried. "Please…don't die!"
"Anne…you…" he hacked, wheezing now. "Get out! I saw…I saw…"
But his breathing stopped and she whimpered in pain, physical and emotional. "Oh…Carlos!" she mourned.
Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up. The last thing she saw was a wall of black and two red eyes in a pale face bearing down on her.
"My God! My God!" Mary ran along the open passage, silver stake gun in her hand and another tucked in her dressing gown. She had poured a canteen of holy water over herself, and was holding a blessed crucifix in the other hand.
There was a draft, and she realized someone had been down here. Praying to God there was still time, she came upon the wall of spikes that faced inward.
She tried to see past them into the room, but with her failing eyes she couldn't see a thing. So she was forced to push a hidden button that raised the wall. She eased into the room slowly, looking around. When she saw Carlos' mangled half-dressed body, she let out a quiet cry.
"Jesus Christ…" she murmured. But the coffin was still closed. And blood was dripping from above; she looked up to see the retracted row of pikes dipped in blood. So he'd tried to open it and was stopped. Thank the Lord.
Mary looked around for the other half of the team. But she didn't see Anne anywhere. But something was wrong; something was missing.
And then she saw it. The cross lock. It had been torn off. All that was left was a circular hole in the lid of the sarcophagus.
She mustered up all her courage and moved closer to the box. Open it. Just throw it open and launch an entire magazine of silver stakes into his chest, if there is a chest left. He may still be ash…
Mary grabbed the lid, threw it back and, clenching her eyes tight, fired four rounds into the coffin. But she didn't hear anything. No cries of pain or torture. Just the echoes of her gun.
She cracked an eye and felt her entire body go weak. Inside lay Anne's body, gaping bloody holes in her palms sending rivers of slow, dark blood over her ravaged chest and neck. Her eyes were open but cloudy. Dead. The four stakes were embedded in the sides of the casket.
Mary put a hand to her mouth to stifle a scream. Never had she seen a more horrible sight. She was backing up to the stone wall to keep her fifty-seven year-old balance, when suddenly she realized she had already reached the wall. Sighing, tears beginning to flow, she sank down to her ankles.
"You're just as foolhardy as your father was, Mary. He trusted electronics too much as well."
Her eyes shot open and she whimpered. God, no. Please, Lord, Jesus, Spirit, who ever was listening, please don't let it be him…
"Don't you see? You'll never be rid of me." He caressed her head and she cried. Kneeling down beside her, he tilted her head so she had to look at him to know what he was real. She realized he was dressed in what probably had been Carlos' clothes. The black tank top was bloodstained and the dark jeans were torn at the right knee.
"The decades haven't been cruel to you, Mary," he soothed as she broke down. He stared into her face and she shut her eyes to him. "But you would still be mine had you not hung me. You'd still have your youth."
"This…isn't…real," she prayed. "You're ashes. You're gone."
He laughed in his throat. "Oh, Mary. Don't you see? I let you go from eternity…but you can't bleed yourself dry enough to kill me. I let you live past dawn so I could meet you again. And as long as you live, I will as well. I am inside you."
"I'll kill myself."
He laughed again. "That wouldn't stop me. But I won't let you."
"Try and stop me. The second you leave, I'll do it."
He hugged her close and buried his face in her hair. "Then you'll never leave my side."
Suddenly she slammed the cross into his chest and he recoiled, hissing. "Mary! You're not going to stop me."
"Then I'm going to hold you back!" she managed through her fearful tears. Turning tail, she ran for the exit as fast as her legs could carry her. But suddenly she tripped, and fell into his arms.
"Why do you run? When you know I'll always be there to stop you?"
She pulled out the reserve gun and fired into his chest. He fell back, growling from the pain. As he fought to pull out the stake, she made for the door. Just before he made it out, Mary slammed the vault door closed and heard his body slam against the inside.
Mary.
"No!" she wailed, turning the deadbolts and collapsing on the marble floor. "Get out of my head!"
The lobby is huge and cold. She is alone, but he is so close. He throws open the vault's door; the huge slab of metal rolling away and collapsing against the check-in desk. He steps out and stretches out his hand.
Mary, don't you see? No matter how hard you try…
She tries to crawl away, get to the doors. But suddenly he is kneeling in front of her, lifting her up and they are in the air.
Blood will out.
"Get out of my head!" she screams, throwing herself against a huge column and knocking herself out to lose consciousness.