Demon Vampire (The Redgold Series) (82 page)

“You ask for my forgiveness? My pardon? I have no such thing to give. I am a nomad. A keen, drunk, happy traveler. I go here and there, and where ever the money is. You say I can no longer go into the sunlight? Good, all the bars are open at night anyway. You say that I will relish bloodshed? Good, I enjoy kicking some well deserved ass now and again!” Yugo shouted out loud. “You say that my eyes, my voice, even my teeth will change? Good, I thought I was ugly anyway.” Yugo settled down and began to whisper. “You say that I will live? You say that if I am hurt, I will heal? I like all of this. When you tell me you are sorry, I cannot imagine why. I grew up alone. I worked by laying stone, brick by brick. I used all my money to travel and all my traveling money to drink. I had no life. I had no life at all.” Yugo got up and sat next to Damien. “It is I that am sorry you felt that way for three days, my friend. Thank you for saving me, Damien.” Yugo gave Damien a big hug. “That is if you are not crazy and this is all some psychotic fit.” Yugo roared, his laughter lifted Damien's mood.

Damien smiled, accepting Yugo's viewpoint.

“Just one more thing.” Yugo's voice was starting to crackle and lower.

“What is it my new friend?” Damien asked.

“What is a vampire?” Yugo replied.

Damien's face went blank. He didn't know how to tell him after the long speech Yugo had given.

“I'm fucking with you, friend.” Yugo roared again. His voice shifting lower, deeper. His idea of a practical joke.

Yugo explained that he had heard many stories about vampires while going town to town. He was no stranger to the myths and legends of monsters slaying men for their blood. He grew up hearing them from the master brick layers he learned from.

None of this was real news to Yugo. “Yes, my friend. I even saw one once as a young man. He was thin and somewhat tall with glowing green eyes. He picked up a rather fat man, lifting him into the air with one arm and quickly tearing him in half. He stood there for a minute and drank the blood that fell out of his stomach. The fat man's upper body trying to crawl away desperately. It was a sick thing. It stuck in my head, so I remembered it.”

“Where did you see him?” Damien wanted to know.

“In this town. About twenty years ago. Why?” Yugo was curious about the connection.

“I knew him. You're lucky to be alive. Did he see you? Were you afraid?” Damien asked, his eyes focused on Yugo's.

“No. I was scared though. It was like he held me in place without knowing I was there. I wasn't able to move. After he left, I told some people what happened and they laughed at me. When we all got back to where the man was killed there was a fresh dead bear. Everybody thought I was crazy. That the man had died hunting the bear. Those bastards. If they could only see me now!” Yugo was actually proud to be a vampire. He understood the risks and gladly accepted the fact that he was killed and brought back to life by Damien.

Damien had been blessed. His miracle had come in the form of a town drunk. Yugo was sane, and level headed enough to deal with being a vampire. He was nothing like Fear. Damien gathered that with Yugo's help, he would be able to form and build his new organization.

“Are you sure you're all right now? You don't feel odd?” Damien was checking for any signs of a gift.

“No, not really.” Yugo was fine except for the dried blood sticking his clothing together.

Damien wondered if the vampire gifts were something that had to be trained rather than given automatically.

“Is everything okay?” Yugo was concerned about how Damien was acting towards him.

“Yeah, don't worry it's nothing.” Damien wanted to prioritize. “I have something I want to discuss with you. My purpose in this life.”

* * * *

On a blazing summer day, several months later. A small, thin, young girl of about fifteen walked with a limp in her left ankle. Her short red hair and freckles made her clearly stand out among the melting Siberian landscape. Her long red flowing dress and corset made her out to be a prostitute that had lost her way.

A very muscular man with thick furs on was moving down the trail on a heavy horse. His long shambled brown hair covered most of his shoulders. His beard was lighter, with a hint of gray. He was strong, but older. He saw the young girl on the road and called out to her in Russian. “Hello, do you need a ride?” He laughed.

She didn't answer.

The man came closer. Getting within ten feet of the girl. “What's your name? Did you leave town without any supplies? Or did some man not want to pay your high price and kick you out of his wagon?”

“Rebekkah.” She said with her head down. She was distraught about her ankle and whatever caused it. She was limping slightly, but it didn't seem that important to her.

“Do you need a ride back to town? A job maybe? I have some money I could pay you.” The man was honest and didn't seem that interested in actually using her intended services. He was a nice old man that was offering to help her at his own cost.

Rebekkah began to breakdown and cry. She fell to her knees.

“What's wrong Rebekkah?” The man's attention was fully set on her covered, wet face. He wasn't thinking about her shapely shaved legs. Not once did he stare at her perfectly smooth fair skin. Never-the-less, he was focused on her.

Rebekkah was wailing in sadness. She was tired, powerless. She was alone.

“Are you sure there's nothing I can help you with?” The man asked again, firmly mounted on his horse.

Rebekkah sobbed. “You are truly a good man. I'm sorry for this. You don't deserve to die like this.”

“Oh, don't worry dear. I've survived all this life has given me with a little sweat and a smile.” The man grinned proudly.

Rebekkah sat and waited, emotionally numb, she knew what was to happen next. The man looked around, left to right. There was no one even remotely near them. No sounds, no rustling, no one in the vicinity. Suddenly, a black cloaked figure knocked the man clean from the horse. He landed several yards away, the soil ripped as his body slid across the horizon. His skin pitted with rocks and earth, he laid dazed.

The large man's leather armor was cut and shredded by the hundreds of small rocks that had scrapped across it. Blood was dripping from the left side of his lips as he sat up. He was a little unstable, but chose to stand. “Well.” He wiped the blood off his face. “I've seen better days, that's for sure. Your friend there has quite the punch.” He lifted his leather chest flap off, setting it down in the dirt. “I figured he intended to kill me with that first blow.”

The dark cloaked man stood strong before the now battered older, larger man. His clothing flapped in the wind as it began to pick up. There was a storm headed towards them. The shadowy man's green eyes seemed to pierce the old man's resolve.

“Is that supposed to scare me? I've felt more fear from a bear. Hell, kid, I've died twice. You can't pull that gift shit with me. Treat me as I am, what I am. My name is Malikshav Ruchnev, a vampire hunter.” Malikshav removed two heavy axes from his back. Each axe was more than enough in size and weight for one man to wield to great power. Malikshav had no problem holding them single handedly. “Let's not keep your bait crying. The quicker we end this, the faster I can get her cleaned up and stop that crying for good.”

“I'm not surprised my gift didn't work on you. Age plays havoc on how effective my gift is. The older the person, the less they are afraid of it.” The green eyed man spoke as he took his black robe off. It fell to the ground, rolling over a few feet from him.

“What, didn't you learn any manner's when you were still human? I told you my name and you just stood there with a blank look on your face. What's your name?” Malikshav demanded.

“I am Fear.” He unbuttoned his black shirt, throwing it on the ground next to the robe. “I wasn't being rude. I simply had no intention of telling you my name until you asked. Where I come from, when I was born, there was no such thing as names.”

Malikshav laughed. “You must have been born in a very small backwater town then. I almost feel sorry for you. Well, never mind, that all will end today. I'll make sure of that.” Malikshav readied his weapons.

Fear pulled a piece of twine from his right pocket. He tied his long hair back. His green eyes were flaring with rage, he was physically calm. “Backwater? Would you insult your ancestors that easily?” Fear finished binding his hair.

“What?” Malikshav asked, confused as to what Fear meant.

Fear disappeared in front of Malikshav's eyes. There was no trace of sound or movement. Fear seemed to blink back into existence a foot from Malikshav's face. His cold breath was exhaling in his still be-floundered expression.

Fear drove his right hand into Malikshav's left lower chest. Breaking through more than four ribs as he did. “Is this a suiting introduction?”

Malikshav coughed up blood. He smiled, swinging his axes at Fear's exposed arm. “All your speed means nothing if you can't move!” He yelled triumphantly as his weapons landed.

Fear didn't move, just as Malikshav said. Both axes struck, sinking, biting into Fear's skin. To Malikshav's amazement, they stopped. There was only a thin cut made from the impact of each weapon. All of Malikshav's combined strength wasn't able to cleave Fear's arms.

“I don't need to. When nothing can truly harm me, there's no point.” Fear twisted his hand inside Malikshav's abdomen.

“Damn, you are a tough one. I think this might be the end for me.” Malikshav let go of his axes, watching them fall to the now wet ground. His blood was pouring out of the wound that Fear was holding in with his own hand. “Shit, vampire, I have seen some power in my years, but you are unreal. How old are you?”

Fear hesitated pulling out Malikshav's entrails. He actually wanted to answer the dead man's last question. “How old are you Malikshav Ruchnev?” Fear was curious.

“Seventy two.” Malikshav coughed up more blood. Despite his astounding constitution, he was dying now. Fear literally held his life in his hand.

“I remember when I was your age. That was so long ago.” Fear said honestly.

“But did you count your human years? How old were you when you were turned?” Malikshav wanted to know. His breath was slowing.

“I mean exactly what I said. I was born a vampire, this is the same body I grew up in.” Fear squinted his eyes.

Malikshav laughed. “You didn't answer my question.”

“I am thousands of years your senior.” Fear said proudly. “Goodbye young man.” Fear squeezed and pulled Malikshav's stomach and intestines from his side.

Blood sprayed Fear lavishly. The wet liquid covered Fear as Rebekkah screamed loudly.

“Do you always have to kill everyone that comes to help me!?” Rebekkah cried out.

Fear let go of the flesh in his hand. He proceeded to wipe off what blood he could from his pants and shoes. The remaining spatter was already absorbing into his bare chest. The small cut from the axes had been healed the instant his arm plunged into Malikshav's body. Fear carefully walked back to his black shirt and robe. Re-donning his shirt once more, fastening the buttons as he walked away from the messy scene. Fear threw his robe over his back, tying the thin black cords together in front. He continued to walk.

“Yes. Until you can offer me another beneficial course, you will do what I say until you die.” Fear turned his head slightly over his right shoulder. “And then, when you come back to life, nothing will change.”

“You bastard! You inhuman bastard of a man!” Rebekkah yelled at Fear, still kneeling.

“And how long has it been since you were actually human?” Fear's comment made Rebekkah shut her mouth. He had touched a nerve. “Besides, I am inhuman. I am an original vampire. One of the sacred elders that embody the strongest gifts in the known world. No matter how you may look Rebekkah, you are still a vampire. No amount of crying will ever change that.” Fear walked further away. “Now onto the next town. We have places to go and people to eat.”

Rebekkah shambled towards Fear, picking herself up and mustering the willpower to go on. “You are going to burn in hell. You know that?”

Fear chuckled. “That is if someone is able to kill me.”

Rebekkah ran up to Fear to keep his pace. “All it takes is one. Or you could get bored and end your own life as so many other elder vampires do.”

“No, and no. The only other vampires able to kill me are my dear friends. We don't talk but every three hundred years, but we do talk.” Fear said casually.

“One of them could turn on you.” Rebekkah was grasping at straws.

“As to that crack about other vampire elders. None of the original twelve have ever taken their own lives. We all remain and continue through the centuries.” Fear kept walking beside Rebekkah.

“All that means is that you are sick and you all are going to hell.” Rebekkah reiterated.

“No, it doesn't.” Fear dismissed the childish comment. “As to getting bored. Don't you think I would have found my limit during the past eight thousand years?”

* * * *

Twenty years washed over Damien and Yugo. Their friendship grew. Damien studied Yugo for clues to understand what his gift might be. Nothing had come up. Damien was doubting what good two morally right vampires could do in a world of powerful gifts that existed like Fear's. He knew their options were limited if something didn't change.