Michael stepped inside the chapel at Roanoke College. Antrim Chapel was a fairly modern building, not much like a traditional church at all, but not so different that Michael could not figure out its layout quickly. His escort kept to himself at the back of the sanctuary, while Michael paced forward towards the altar. A solitary figure knelt before it in prayer.
“Isn’t a church a bit of an odd place for two vampires to meet?” said Michael. His voice seemed to echo about the room, but the figure before him did not stir.
After a long pause, the figure stood and turned. As Michael had suspected, it was Prince Mathias. He looked at Michael keenly. “Does it disturb you so much to be so close to Him again? To be in His house? To be before His altar?”
Michael shook his head. “Relics of a life I left behind. Nothing more.”
“I find that hard to believe.” Said Mathias. “I think that’s the lie you tell yourself, hoping you will one day believe it.”
“Is this why I’m here?”
“Mostly. You see, Michael, of all the new childer in the city you are the one that intrigues me the most. The others make sense. An old businessman dying of cancer. A forlorn mother looking for a substitute child. But you? Come into the Requiem only with the promise of revenge and an unlife of debauchery. Given your life before, I find it hard to believe you would trade what you had for so little.”
“I had nothing.”
“Did you really? You fell victim to what countless others before you had and yet you treated it like the end of the world. Had Deborah not been there, what would you have done?”
“A pointless question, mi’lord. What was done is what was done.”
“Is that so or do you avoid it because you don’t like its answer?”
“Even if I don’t, what difference does it make? I’ve been turned. I cannot go back.”
“No, you cannot become human again, but you can do more with your new life than just an endless party and thirst for revenge. You will soon grow bored with the endless parade of women. And this Rebecca? Even unmolested, she will grow old and die and you will remain. What then shall you do with yourself and with your life?”
Michael did not like hear Mathias toss Becca’s name about so casually. His tone grew angry. “You’d like me to dedicate myself to a higher cause, is that it? Come back into the fold of the church, or whatever vampiric equivalent exists. I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised, given what I’ve been told of your origins. Who you claim to be and all that.” He sneered out the last works, making no secret of his emotions.
Mathias seemed unfazed. “So you know my story. That I am the thirteenth apostle, chosen by lot to replace Judas Iscariot. I’m curious, that if you’ve known this for some time, why you’ve not come to me. Most who learn my origins always want to know what He was like. And yet, despite your own upbringing, you show no interest. You either don’t believe the story of my origins or you don’t want to know about the real Jesus.”
“Why not both?”
“In fairness, I suppose I can’t fault you for the first. We Kindred are not known for our devotion to the truth and you are right to suspect that it may just be another lie. But what if it isn’t? That could mean a lot of things, things I don’t think you want to face. That it could all be real. The stable birth, the teachings, the miracles, the cross, and the empty tomb. All of it.”
“And why does that matter?”
“You wear your defiance like a mask, hoping to conceal the truth. I’ve read your mind, your memories. There was a time when you believed it, all of it. And I think a part of you still does. That makes things worse, because it shows what all this is really about for you. It’s not about revenge on some girl or about an unending descend into licentiousness. It’s overt and deliberate revolt against your Lord.”
“And why not?”
“What do you suppose will happen when He tires of your defiance?”
“What’s he going to do? Damn me to hell? He’s already done that. Robbed me of the one thing I wanted most in life. After that, it didn’t matter any more. What worse could he do?”
“You think that because you died once that you need have no fear of it again. But few of us live out what would have been our normal mortal lifespan, let alone the ages that I have seen. None of us, mortal or immortal, seeks the reckoning that comes at the moment of our Final Death. But when you stand before him, when that day comes, what will you tell him?”
“That it was all his fault to begin with. He made me weak, a target for bullies and their ridicule and abuse. He made me never good enough for my parents. And he took away Rebecca. No, Mathias, I’m not interested in becoming one of your little vampire disciples. You speak of lies we tell ourselves. Yours is the idea that he cares about us at all. You need look no further than my life for proof of that.”
Mathias gained a crestfallen look. “I’m disappointed, Michael, but not terribly surprised. You have a spirit of wrath about you. Someday, it will get you into more trouble than you know. But you don’t care about that. You don’t really care about anything. Until it releases you, there’ll be no reasoning with you. You have my leave to go. Return to Blacksburg and to your revelry.”
Michael turned and headed out. As he reached the door, Mathias spoke again, his voice loud and cold. “If your trouble finds you while still in my domain, there will be consequences. Dire consequences.”
----
One of Mathias’ thralls drove Michael back to Blacksburg. The hour long ride was uneventful, giving Michael time to think about his conversation. Unlike his introduction to the Prince at the Akron-Tech game, his second meeting with Mathias was more nuisance than terrifying.
“Who the hell does he think he is?” snarled Michael in his mind. “Disgusting little mongrel. Maybe he’s Deborah’s secret enemy. It’ll be nice to be rid of him.”
When they arrived in Blacksburg, Michael instructed the thrall to drop him off outside Squires. It was a short walk over to Slusher and to Kris’s room. He marched over there with a quick pace, his thoughts angry and dark. The dorm monitor stopped him at the front door, and Michael restrained himself from ripping the poor girl to pieces…but only barely.
“Kris Keller.” Said Michael impatiently.
The dorm monitor looked Michael up and down, as if uncertain to allow the obviously agitated young man any further. But she relented after a few seconds, saying nothing, but motioning towards the telephone on the wall nearby.
Michael went over and dialed her room. Kris answered. “Mi’lord.”
“Meet me out front.” He ordered. He then turned and marched outside.
A few minutes later, Kris came down and walked outside. Michael was pacing angrily about the front of the building. His tone, his mannerisms, and body language had all set off a red flag in the dorm monitor who kept a close eye on Kris as she walked outside.
“Have you learned anything about our rival hacker?” Michael demanded.
“Not yet.”
“Why not?” Michael half-snarled.
“I’m sorry, mi’lord,” replied Kris meekly. “But these things take time. It’s only been…”
“I want to know who he is.”
“Please don’t be angry, but it’s only been a few days.”
“Don’t tell me not to be angry.” Michael’s voice rose and he saw the dorm monitor in the corner of his eye move away from the window. Most likely to call campus police, just in case. Knowing the stakes had just risen, he let out his breath and tried to calm down, “Just find out who he is.”
“I will, mi’lord.”
“Go, before that busybody of an RA calls the SWAT team.”
“Go?” said Kris, seemingly disappointed. Michael nodded. As he watched her go, he wondered at the power of the blood bond. He was hardly his usual charming self tonight and Kris still seemed disappointed he didn’t ask something lewd of her. Still, it was probably for the best. Kris was valuable, and with the mood he was in, Michael didn’t think he’d have his usual restraint.
That bothered him to some degree, so he spent the next several hours simply walking about campus to cool off. The December air helped. As dawn approached, he headed back to his apartment and made ready to go to sleep. As he undressed, he noticed something in the pocket of his pants, something he’d not noticed was there. He pulled it out. It was the business card Ernie had given him at the Akron game. He stared at the phone number on it.
“Wouldn’t that put a bee in Mathias’ bonnet to sign on to a New Age cult.” He thought to himself. He set his mind to call when he awoke at dusk to find out more of what Ernie’s little group was offering.
----
The phone call the next evening resulted in an invitation to a special ceremony, one to be conducted on the Winter Solstice. Michael figured that was as good a time as any to check out what Ernie was doing, and it seemed sufficiently New Age to do something on the longest night of the year. He invited Kris to join him, which she gladly accepted.
Kris drove the two of them to the abandoned storefront on Bullitt Ave. The place seemed innocuous enough. The store front had been redecorated. The glass had been made opaque by a thick coating of navy blue paint, upon which were various symbols: stars, the sun, the moon, rays of light, the all-seeing eye, etc. It struck Michael as the sort of place a vampire would hang, concealed from sunlight and just kooky enough to keep most folks away.
Michael had no idea what to expect when he entered, but he and Kris did so. To Michael’s surprise, it was Ernie who greeted them.
“Welcome, welcome, Michael. I am so pleased you could be with us tonight.” Said Ernie with restrained enthusiasm. It wasn’t just the cult or its facilities that remained a mystery to Michael; Ernie himself would be one also. Which of his myriad personalities would he manifest tonight?
“And you’re not alone.” Said Ernie to Kris. “What a lovely companion. I am Father Ernest Malenkov, and this is the Church of Light Incarnate. All are welcome here to explore the light within us.”
Kris nodded politely. “I’m Kris, Michael’s girlfriend.”
Michael smiled at that admission. It was not entirely true; Michael had never made any sort of pledge of fidelity to her. Nor had he kept any semblance of it with her; In the last two months he’d been with at least a dozen of other women, all primarily for the purpose of feeding. Yet, the only two he ever came back to repeatedly were Deborah (for somewhat obvious reasons) and Kris. Perhaps, in some strange way, she really was his girlfriend and Michael found he liked the idea.
Ernie seemed to notice his reaction, as muted as it was, to her comment. “It seems a new truth has come to light this evening.” He said. “A pledge of affection previously left unsaid.”
Kris blinked somewhat nervously at that. She had no experience with Ernie’s power of mind-reading and was taken aback at his ability to know their past.
“Is that how he controls his cult?” Michael wondered.
“Come. The others are gathered. Our ceremony for this evening will begin shortly.”
Further inside, past a few partitions that further blocked the central room from the windows to the outside, was something akin to a church sanctuary. Rows of folding chairs were set up like pews, all pointing towards the front were an elaborate altar rested. The altar was decorated in much the same manner as the windows: same symbols, same blue paint. But the symbols were bright, as if painted in real gold and Michael suspected the sunrise-shaped holy symbol atop the altar was genuine gold as well.
“Gold is the material most blessed by light.” Said Ernie, obviously reading their thoughts. “It is proper that we honor the light with implements of gold.”
“You can afford such a thing and yet we sit on folding chairs?” teased Michael irreverently.
If Ernie was annoyed at Michael’s mockery, he made no sign. “Prayer is not all that we do here, my young friend. You will learn that tonight.” He made his way past them and headed to the front, as Michael and Kris puzzled over his somewhat cryptic reply.
Michael and Kris continued to look about the sanctuary. There were roughly 20 or so people gathered, most of them Michael remembered from Ernie’s entourage at the Akron game. They ranged in age from early 50s to one girl who was probably 16 or 17 (She seemed to be the child of a middle-aged couple there.) Most were attired rather casually, in somewhat stereotypical New Age hippie fashion.
“This is interesting.” Said Kris. “He’s interesting.” She gave a nod towards Ernie at the front as he made ready for the ceremony.
“Oh?"
“It’s like he can read my mind. How?”
That pretty much set Michael’s mind about Ernie’s technique. “I don’t know. It must be a gift.” He half-lied.
“But from where?”
Michael chose not to answer that, but instead motioned to a nearby set of chairs. It seemed Ernie’s preparations were almost complete and the rest of the crowd was also finding places to sit down.
“Ah, my children.” Said Ernie in a booming pulpit voice. “Good evening and welcome. We come together on this the darkest of nights to shine forth our light, to beat back the darkness within and without. Let us turn inward and bring forth our light.”
The room fell silent, as if in prayer. After a minute or so, Ernie spoke again. “I sense darkness remains in our midst. One of us is burdened by evil thoughts and desires.” Ernie stepped down from the front and came into the midst of his congregation. Every head came back up and fixed on him.
Michael wondered if Ernie meant him. After all, Ernie had read his memory and no doubt knew, as Mathias did, of his anger. But Ernie did not walk back that far, stopping a few rows forward of Kris and Michael, next to a man in his mid-20s. “Tomas, my son, let us help you unburden your soul.”
The young man burst into tears. “Forgive me.” He pleaded. “The reporter, he offered money…”
“There are many jealous souls without who seek our secrets. And the temptations of darkness are hard to resist. I am not here to judge you, nor punish you for caving into them. Let us help you. Who will share their light with Tomas?”
Another man stood up. “When I was hungry the other day, you bought me lunch.”
A girl stood up. “When I was lonely, you talked with me.”
Most of the room, in turn, stood up and told of some good deed Tomas had done for them. As they did, Michael could see Ernie reach inside Tomas’ shirt to remove the wire he’d concealed within it. Tomas made no protest, but merely wept at each admission.
“Do you understand?” Ernie asked, quietly smashing the wire beneath his shoe. “Here you are loved, and you return that love. Here you have shared your light, as these testimonies prove, and now that light returns to you. Embrace it. Hold to it.”
“I will, Father, and I will never stray again.”
“How did he know?” whispered Kris. Michael continued to feign ignorance.
“What is it that we desire?” said Ernie as he came back to the front. “The darkness fools us, lies to us, convinces us that happiness and fulfillment come from what it offers. And what does it offer? Things, money, possessions. None of these fill the void in each of us and when we fill that void with them, our light fades…”
Michael ignored the content of Ernie’s sermonizing. It was random religious mumbo-jumbo, more patronizing than anything he’d ever heard in any church before. But, in the end, he knew that didn’t matter. Ernie had a captive audience in that crowd. No doubt each one of them had been on the business end of Ernie’s mind-reading power. Each one of them awed by it, convinced by it that Ernie was someone with unexplainable divine gifts, a prophet for a faithless time.
And like so many before him, he was a complete fraud. Just one far more convincing.
The ceremony went on for another 20 minutes or so, and consisted of a few more silent prayers, pledges of loyalty to “the light,” and then a final blessing. As the service concluded, the congregation gathered up the folding chairs and began to stack them against the left hand wall. A small number of volunteers went into a back room and then reemerged with trays of food and drink. Still others began to drag mats out onto the floor.
“Now, let us fellowship with one another and share the light.” Declared Ernie. The crowd converged on the offered refreshments. The spread looked pretty good. Kris headed over and helped herself. Michael hung back as Ernie approached.
“So, peace and love and all that.” Said Michael sardonically.
“Is that so bad a thing?” Ernie threw it back at him. Michael shrugged. “I think you will find that there are benefits to what the Church of Light Incarnate offers. Behold.” He gestured towards the back corner. Already two of the parishioners were intertwined in each others’ arms.
“Is that how you share the light around here?” said Michael sardonically, as he looked around the room. A few others, along the walls or on the mats on the floor, were showing varying degrees of physical affection. Nothing quite so extreme as the couple making out in the back, but there was a casual, even playful, honesty to the affections he was seeing.
“We each desire to love and to be loved.” Explained Ernie. “No expression of love, physical or spiritual, is rejected or taboo here. I know your heart, Michael. My words may not sway you much, nor my gifts to read the unreadable within you. But I can give you what you desire most. Watch as the light turns to passion within them.”
In the middle of the floor, one young woman had worked the pants of her companion down to his knees and she was now enthusiastically giving him a blow job. Michael glanced about. What had been casual touching was now heavy petting in many cases and full blown sex in others. All in just a few minutes. It seemed surreal.
“How?” Michael asked.
“The love is there, as is the desire to express it. They merely need permission to express it.” With that, Ernie walked away. Michael noticed he headed straight to Tomas, who still seemed somewhat distraught at his earlier moment of weakness.
Michael then felt a tug at his own trousers. He looked down to find Kris kneeling before him, working at his fly. One of Ernie’s parishioners moved up behind her, pulling up her sweater to expose her beautiful breasts. Seeing another be so bold with her and to see her so willing to permit it aroused Michael as he’d never been before. Kris worked down his pants, but his eyes were focused on the stranger caressing her.
This was going to be a fun night after all.
----
"Ah, my child, hast thou found fulfillment in this evening's revelry?" said Ernie, slowly donning his clergy vestments once more.
Even though he did not breathe any longer, Michael felt a sense of breathlessness. This evening had been nothing like anything he'd experienced before. "Yes, it was...fun."
"That was not what I asked. Do you feel fulfilled?" said Ernie. His gaze was piercing. "Or did you think this was all for mere pleasure?"
"What was it for, if not for that?" Michael felt confused. "What do you mean by fulfilled?"
"You came here in lack. If you no longer lack that thing, you are now fulfilled." said Ernie. "You came here lonely. Are you still?"
"I was not lonely when I came. I am not now."
"Are you not? The lies we tell ourselves are often transparent to others." chided Ernie. "Remember, your mind is open to me. You thoughts, your feelings are laid bare before me."
"If you can do that, then why the interrogation?" Michael grew annoyed.
"Because the answers are not for my benefit."
"No, but the journey you're trying to take me on is."
Ernie laughed, a loud raucous belly laugh that might have shook a lesser building. When he stopped, his countenance seemed to change. Had another of his personalities emerged?
"Now I understand." he said. The tone of his voice was different and Michael was now certain this was a new Ernie he was speaking to.
Michael said nothing, wondering what would happen next. Ernie continued. "The prophet was right. You are lonely, Michael, deep down. Deeper than even you know. Why else let Deborah do it? You traded your mortal life for the power to bed who you wish when you wish. It was so cheap a trade, I could hardly believe it. To give up so much for so little."
"I gave up nothing."
“So you think.” Ernie leaned in, his tone darkening. "Tell me, Michael, what you had tonight, would you like more?"
Michael shook his head. He did not like this new personality and he did not like where these questions were going.
"A lie. You’d like nothing better than to return to this again. You hunger for the thrill of the forbidden, all the things you once denied yourself. Admit it openly. You cannot lie to me."
"It was not I who denied them to myself."
"Another lie, although one born of ignorance. Of course you did. You're the one who chose so strict a moral code. No one forced that on you. That you discarded it so quickly and so casually shows what little loyalty you held to it. So I ask again, would you like more of what you had tonight?"
"No." said Michael, more adamant.
Ernie accepted his reply as truth this time. "And why not?" he asked.
"Because you will extract too high a price for me to have it again."
"But you still want it?" Ernie's eyes darted over Michael as if he were a scientist studying a lab specimen. "There may be hope for you yet. The first step in avoiding a trap is knowing its existence."
"Dune." answered Michael. He knew the origin of the quote.
Ernie ignored the aside. "You have passed my first lesson. Here is my second. A cult leader will always give or tell his flock what they want. That is the bait of the trap."
Michael nodded. "Am I caught in yours then?"
"Almost." said Ernie with a sinister grin. "I almost had you. But, for all your folly, you are not completely stupid. You may have some potential after all."
"Yet another lecture on how pathetic I am." snarled Michael to himself.
"If you wanted to avoid the harsh judgment of your peers, you should have stayed a mortal." said Ernie, reading his thoughts again. "But you didn't. And now you are a pawn in a game much greater than you know. With stakes much higher than you realize. Your destiny is written in fire and blood, young Michael. And unless you learn to become far more than you are, that destiny will consume you.”
“Poetic.” Said Michael sardonically.
Ernie gained an impatient look. “The defiance of youth, endemic among mortals and kindred. Suit yourself. You will learn one way or the other. A third lesson I offer you. Every vampire you encounter, without exception, is a cult leader of some sort. Now go. Return to your folly and may it not get you killed.”
----
Child, fool, pathetic, going to get yourself killed. He had gone to Ernie to taunt the Prince and his dire prognosis of Michael’s unlife. Now he was hearing the same words echoed once more. He walked out into the cult’s sanctuary, looking for Kris. She was amidst the bodies, now half-asleep from their revelry, all naked and looking quite contented with the night’s activities.
“Kris, it is time to leave.” Michael said insistently. “Get your clothes.”
She stirred and came to her feet, although somewhat shaky. “I think I’m drunk.” She admitted.
“The refreshments were spiked. Some sort of aphrodisiac.” It was a suspicion. While Michael could believe that the congregation, conditioned by months of Ernie’s “gifts” and preaching, would shed their inhibitions so easily, he knew there had to be something else for Kris, a first time visitor, to do so.
“My clothes.” Kris seemed to grow conscious of her nudity in the midst of so many strangers. Michael wondered if she remembered any of what she had done that night or allowed be done to her.
“Over here, I think. Long skirt, t-shirt, wool sweater.” He proffered the items from the cubby along the wall. Kris fetched them and dressed hurriedly.
“Did I…did we…” she seemed confused.
“We did. Let’s not speak of it. Come. Let’s get back to Blacksburg.”
Act One Chapter Ten
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