Demon Vampire (The Redgold Series) (68 page)

“No, that was all in your head Teresa. Besides, I never found you attractive. You're too top heavy.” Malio poked fun at Teresa's large breasts falling to the sides of her rib cage.

“Oh, that's right, I remember now. You prefer men to women and boys to men, don't you Molly?” Teresa was poking back.

Malio waved his hand again. Another patch of hair ripped out with force from Teresa's head. “I told you not to say that word. Besides, at least I'm not a whore. I was faithful to the limited number of partners I've had. I never screwed half a country like you Teresa.”

“Then what Malio? What could you possibly do to me to make me regret ever hurting you?” Malio was silent as Teresa spoke. “That's what this is all about isn't it? Making me sorry for what I did to you all those years ago. As if you could do anything to me. Anything that might force me to repent. That's the joke, Malio. That you did all this, all of this thinking that I would give in. You thought if you tricked Martin into giving you my son, teaching him to hate me, and leading me here, you would get the revenge you deserve? You're dead wrong. There is nothing you can do, that you will ever do, that can make me apologize to you, Molly.”

Teresa stuck it to Malio. Fully expecting his retaliation in return. That he would rip out another patch of her hair. She had convinced herself that whatever Malio did to her, she could take it and never let him have the upper hand. She was prepared for the duration. Teresa was ready to wait it out until the day Malio got bored with her. She was tempering herself for whatever Malio had in store next. Teresa knew full well that Malio was planning to do something vile to her. To choke her, to beat her, to cut her open while she watched. Whatever it was, she was ready. That's what she told herself.

“You misunderstand Teresa. I've already committed an atrocity against you.” Malio said softly with a hint of a chuckle. “The sooner you fathom what I'm capable of, the faster you will beg to apologize to me.”

Teresa thought about what Malio meant. Besides being naked and immobilized on an iron slab, Malio hadn't done anything major to her. Teresa looked around the room, looking for some clue as to what Malio had done.

“Do you want to know? DO YOU!?” Malio screamed at Teresa. “I can see it in your eyes. You want to know, I can tell.” Malio walked over to the iron slab. He pulled Teresa towards him.

The slab moved.

Teresa's arms and legs did not.

The entire slab was actually a large, short cart that had been tucked into a small corner of the cave. The two foot thick shackles were nothing more than large pieces of partially worked and formed copper ore. There were no holes for limbs to be inserted. There were no manacles of any kind. Malio had already taken Teresa's limbs from her while she was sleeping.

“I'm sorry, are you missing anything?” Malio laughed.

As Teresa was pulled into the center of the room, she saw a flat table that contained four limbs. Her body parts, lying dead, six feet from her.

“Here.” Malio picked up her right arm. “Let me lend you a hand.” Malio roared with laughter. He fell back onto the floor, rolling back and forth in sheer ecstasy.

Teresa understood, completely and without limit, that she was now in hell. Malio had come up with ways of torture that she couldn't even begin to think of. She knew that he was going to do more, much, much more to her. Teresa screamed out loud. “HELP!! HELP ME!!!” It was primal.

Malio only laughed harder at Teresa's attempts of calling out to someone. Eventually he got up and walked over to the flat table. He picked up a thin sharp rock that had been spit in two from a larger stone. He held it flush against her right cheek. It was nearly black. The obsidian stone was brilliant and finely edged to cut flesh. “You must understand, Teresa. You put me through years of torment without ever asking to be forgiven.” Malio drug the stone across her cheek, blood flowed as it easily sliced the skin. “It's only fair that I do the same to you. I promise-” Malio clenched his teeth. “No, I VOW, that I will not ask for an apology for the first one hundred years. One year for every one of mine that you and the rest of them have taken from me.”

“But it wasn't just me. Why do this all to me? Why only me?” Teresa was afraid now and it was evident.

“That's the fear I have longed for. But that alone is not what I have been searching for all this time. I want to hear the pain. I want to hear your pain every day for the next hundred years.” Malio put the thin stone sideways, pressing into Teresa's mouth at her cheeks. “Don't worry, you won't be alone. I never planned on you being alone. They'll all come in time. One by one, even Martin will one day try to find you himself.”

Teresa writhed as Malio pressed the stone down, cutting into her face further.

“Oh, what's that?” Malio put his ear to her lips. “Someone will talk? Someone will tell Martin where I am? I'm sorry, no they won't. Benardo has made sure of that. You know Teresa, I really have to thank you for that boy of yours. Without his gift, this would have been pretty difficult. With his help I was able to ensure complete secrecy over my location. No one will ever know where you are until they're lying next to you.” Malio laughed. “Until then, I'm going to cut every piece of flesh off you. Everything that you thought made you beautiful will be gone. I will take it all away and we will see what is left in the end.”

Malio began to butcher Teresa well through the hours. Her screams only echoed off the small cave's walls. There was no answer, no salvation, no help to come. She was alone in this punishment. In time, Teresa passed out.

* * * *

Sixty two years passed as Malio tortured Teresa daily. He had cut off her scalp, eyelids, lips, tongue, outer ears, and breasts. He had removed her eyes and reproductive organs. He had kept her alive by dowsing her in fresh blood. Revitalizing her just enough to keep her heart beating, but not enough to regenerate her lost tissues or limbs.

In time Timothy and Phillipe were sent by Martin to find Teresa. Martin had offered them gold in return. And in their stead he would take rule over their lands temporarily. When they did not come back, Martin was forced to take action. It had taken ninety seven years, and now he was ready to search for them, for Teresa. Martin placed a steward in command to rule the now five united kingdoms. After two years of searching. Martin found Malio.

With Benardo's help and the assistance of Damien Attolauss, an old focus vampire, Malio captured Martin. Benardo's debt had been repaid, asking Malio to never contact him again. Damien however, requested a more exacting reimbursement. Damien asked Malio to keep collecting vampeal gifts and that one day, he would come to call on his help in return. Malio agreed and thus Malio's list of prisoners was complete. Malio had dismembered them, cut, sliced, and beaten them all. Eventually he placed them in four separate metal rings. It was then that they became his toys.

Welcome to My World

Liquid stirred in the sea as a typhoon threw the frigid beach into a frenzy. The black clouds strobed with blue lightning in the sky. Echoes of the thunder tore into the ears of the one person facing the cataclysm.

The water nipped at the small boy's feet, flooding the sand, then receded from it. He was dressed in purple with white Victorian tights and shoes. He was alien to these shores. His hair was shuffled dark brown. His face was young, his eyes dark blue, but not innocent.

The boy called out. “Is anyone there!?” His voice was muted by the rumbling above. “Where am I?” He asked to himself quietly. “Where the hell is this? The last thing I remember is-” He thought about where he was last. “Nothing. I don't remember what happened. Where am I? What is this place? How did I get here?”

It began to rain. The water was black as silt, slippery on the boy's shoulders. It mixed with the purple clothing, stealing its brightness. He wiped it off. It was strange, he knew the texture, it was familiar. It was soothing, it was comforting. He recalled this substance, but was unable to place it. “I can't remember anything. Who am I?”

The lightning cracked the sky open. The rain fell, and was creating puddles in the sand. The blue ocean undulated, violently. The color changed, shifting to black, then to a murderous red. The boy looked down, the pools were growing, the shoreline was receding. The water was flooding his ankles. It was unnerving. There was a pulse in it, a rhythm to the flow. The liquid coagulated, thickening around him. The hue deepened. His childhood came to him, the memories lucid, disturbing. He was unhappy, tormented. He was born in October. His name still alluded him.

The sky settled. A pattern slowly developed, shapes slide together as a feeling of dread gripped the young boy. Something was wrong. He was not supposed to be there. The visceral substance reminded him of who he was. He enjoyed the sensation. The wet, warm nature of it. It was both exciting and frightening.

“I know this.” The boy reached down and let the water gather in his cupped left hand. He took a sip. It was alkaline, not bitter, but base. It coated his lips, tongue, and teeth. “Blood.” It tasted. “Delicious.” It ran down his cheeks, spilling on the white satin collar, coloring it a sharp burgundy. His attention was fixed on what was descending down his throat. He closed his eyes.

The rain stopped. The wind blew strong. The boy remembered, he knew who he was.

“Malio Signante. Welcome.” The ululation spoke his name.

Malio opened his eyes. There was a black shadowy figure before him. The outline was jagged, the line itself was blurred. An image of red thorns jutted out from its sides. It had the shape of a man. The presence was ominous. It was not a man.

“Who are you?” Malio asked with decent.

“I am the one that calls the shadows from the cold night in aide to slaughter the masses of the living world.” The figure announced.

“That means nothing to me.” Malio bickered.

“I am the one that holds the power to curb nations and end wars. The strength to force control, to command obedience eternal. A black rose that strikes the heavens with a cataclysm to overturn the lands of men and the obelisks of the old world. Pain knows me. Gods fear me. Man whispers of me. I am the demon that waits in the dreams of all who slumber. The sovereign of nightmares, the slaver of men.” The unknown man's cloak of darkness faded, his form came into definition. He stood tall with layers of dark brown and black clothing. A pair of round silver glasses hung from his left coat pocket. His shoulder length curly brown hair framed his chiseled face. “I am the demon vampire, Salas.”

“Am I supposed to understand who you are?” Malio was arrogant. He started to walk with an attitude towards the demon.

Watching the insolence unfold, Salas tilted his head up to the clouds. A calm hushed the scene. A long red spike shot down from the clouds, impaling Malio through the chest, instantly pinning him to the sand. The sleek spear was smooth and solid. It pierced Malio's heart, leaning him into a compromised position. Malio's blood flowed across the weapon to the sand. He had lost before realizing there was ever a confrontation. Malio looked down. Salas was standing on the surface of the red water.

“It's blood.” Salas said to Malio.

Malio coughed, attempting to speak. “What?”

“The 'red water,' it's all blood.” Salas whispered in Malio's left ear. His movement unregistered by Malio. “My glorious blood.”

“What are you?” Malio managed to say with difficulty. Blood was leaking out from both sides of his mouth, dripping onto the spear.

“I told you. I am a demon. I feed off eternal ephemeral emotional strife.” Salas backs away. “As you do, except literally.”

“That makes no sense.” Malio was beginning to choke.

“I know. It just seems easier to fuck with you when you're like this.” Salas smiled.

“Why?” The blood in Malio's chest was filling his lungs.

“Why?” Salas smiled again. “Maybe it's because you called me Molly?”

Confused, Malio coughed, unable to ask what Salas was talking about.

Salas raised his right hand, palm up. “Or maybe it's because you threatened my host.” Salas closed his fist.

Several thin shards sprang out from the main spear that was embedded inside of Malio. They pierced his arms, legs, hands, feet, face, and skull.

Malio died instantly, a sudden rush of pain was crippling his mind. Salas walked up to Malio's body and touched the spear. It melted, and released him to slump to the ground. The thud dispersed the sand, and sank half of Malio's corpse. Salas knelt down to his right ear.

Salas whispered. “I'm not done with you yet.”

Malio's chest inflated with air, the breath of life was returning to him. The wounds remained, they somehow no longer seeped blood. The holes in Malio's flesh did not seal. Slowly, Malio opened his eyes. “What did you do to me?”

“Isn't it obvious? I killed you. Isn't the gapping chasm in your chest proof of that?” Salas got up.

Malio coughed again, there was no pain, no ache from his wounds. “What did you do to me?”

“I control everything here. The weather, the seas, all are mine alone. Reality itself is under my will here.” Salas opened his arms, gesturing to the area around him. “In this realm I am better than god, for I wield suffering, pain, resurrection. I have dominion over life.”

“If you want to kill me, why raise me?” Malio panted as he spoke.