I do not know what drove me to my next action, perhaps I wished to humor the men and myself, but I had one of the medical personnel conduct a further examination of the body. To our amazement, they detected a very shallow and faint form of respiration. It would be unnoticeable to the naked eye, but with proper equipment, such as we had, it could be detected. This woman was somehow still alive. We secured all personnel involved in the discovery into one military unit for control. There were a total of nine personnel. One member was a civilian national, serving as guide and interpreter. His reaction to this discovery has been quite unusual. He refused to go back into the area where the crypt is contained—he was visibly scared. When I suggested he go into the area of the crypt, he got wide-eyed with fear and began to tremble and make the religious sign of the cross. His interpretation of this discovery was based upon local folklore of a creature that terrorized the area almost a century ago by murdering almost an entire village. He also used the term ‘vampire’.
My investigation shall continue. There are many issues here which defy all logic, yet offer possibilities which I believe may be of significance to those I work for. I am intrigued with this mystery but can offer no information or even an assessment at this time.
The man found the beginning of this story quite compelling. So much so that he let the similarity to his father’s handwriting fall back to a secondary position in his thoughts. It was his occupation to make logical sense of mysteries and he always felt unnerved when a logical explanation could not be found. He tried to imagine the excitement of wondering what must be going through the mind of someone faced with this type of unknown—a discovery that defied logic.
“When in doubt,” the man said aloud, “always fall back to the obvious. When you have eliminated all that is possible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be true; from our good friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes.”
C
HAPTER
S
IX
In an empty office in the secure Navy compound where the search was being conducted, Mr. Smith dialed a number.
“Yes, Mr. Smith,” a woman’s voice answered.
“Nothing yet. They’re still looking,” he said.
“Would you say that they are looking aggressively?”
“Yes. They have several teams conducting surveillance on possible locations where they might be hiding.”
“And what of our good friend, Commander Reese? Is he being a good boy and cooperating?”
“He’s got them jumping. He is the one that developed the search criteria for the teams.”
“I asked, is he cooperating?” the woman’s voice asked again this time sounding annoyed.
“I think so.”
“You don’t sound very sure. I thought you could judge a person’s character better than that.”
“From what I am seeing, he’s very good at hiding things, but he does slip every once in a while.”
“What did he do?”
“One interesting thing was that he reacted to something he saw on the video of the breakout. From what I saw, I thought he recognized one of the perpetrators, but he blew it off by saying that the man’s characteristics were consistent with European origin, probably Slavic or some bullshit like that.”
“That may be of further use,” the woman’s voice said. “What else?”
“Apparently he didn’t sleep last night. And he had a visitor—some woman.”
“He has time for pleasures?”
“Apparently so,” Smith said and added a disgruntled sound. “At first we thought someone was breaking into his house but it turns out he knows her. I had someone follow the woman but he lost her somewhere out in Suffolk.”
“Sloppy.”
“Yes, I agree. I’ll ensure they do better in the future.”
“Anything else?”
“Reese asked for the medical guy from the original op, Lieutenant Colonel Barkley.”
“Why?”
“Said he wanted him for his experience with the original team, but he probably wants someone he can trust. He’s putting him to work on looking for an antidote for the elixir.”
“An antidote, why?”
“He believes that whoever took the girls wouldn’t have gone through all of that trouble to just see them die. He thinks they had some kind of antidote that would allow them to survive the collar injecting the elixir.”
“What do you think?”
“Well, it actually makes sense; if that was the goal, to capture and not destroy. It could possibly lead to information about those that were involved.”
“Then let the doctor work the issue. Offer all assistance.”
“Of course,” Smith answered.
“How long before we know anything about the surveillance?”
“Could be hours—could be days, it’s hard to tell. Unless something happens that gives us an idea where they are—it’s a needle in the haystack scenario.”
“Keep me posted.”
Before Smith could answer, the connection was broken and all he heard was a dial tone. “Yeah. Sure thing.”
C
HAPTER
S
EVEN
“We are all lost,” she said and then laughed.
Christina angrily tossed in her sleep as if she wanted to strike out at something or someone but could not. Lies. The word resonated in her mind; the world was nothing but lies and deceit as she faced the man in her dream.
***
“So much anger from a beautiful woman,” Alexander said. “It does not become you.”
“Ah,” Christina said. “Yes, I have beauty. A man told me that once as he danced between my legs. He said I was beautiful and that he needed my beauty to survive. I believed him; I was young and foolish. I thought he loved me, so I loved him in return. But he proved that he needed his wife more when he was caught with me. He testified that I was a temptress who had stolen away his love for his wife to satisfy my own selfish and evil cravings. Do you need my beauty to survive as well?”
“I need nothing that is so full of hatred,” Alexander said calmly. “Hatred such as yours burns away at everything I seek from this world. It consumes you above all else. You wish to die, I know. But your hatred refuses to give way so easily against those that have wronged you.”
“What do you know about my hatred? Nothing! You’re a fool!” she screamed at him.
“Believe what you want and choose what you want,” he said, his voice calm yet probing. “That is what life is all about. But don’t look for what you do not want to find: The truth.”
“The truth,” she said vehemently. “I know the truth about life. It’s filled with people who lie and cheat their way through it at the expense of the innocent. There is no compassion for the weak, only heartbreak and disappointment.”
“So sad,” he said shaking his head. “I pity you.”
“I don’t want your pity!” she screamed.
“What do you want?”
“I want… I want to die. Do you have a knife? Give it to me and I will finish this now instead of listening to you debate what I really want. You can be my one and only mourner. Tell me, will you grieve for me? Will you shed a tear for me when I am gone?”
“You will not kill yourself,” he said. “What you need is time to heal and to forgive.”
“Ha,” she said and laughed. “Give me your knife,” she repeated.
He removed a knife from his belt and tossed it on the ground near her.
As she reached for it, he was suddenly on top her with his hands on her throat. She didn’t know how he had done it; it was almost mystical. She wondered if perhaps she was dreaming all of this. She had to be. Earlier, when she heard his voice and his lips did not move, and now the way he had moved from one spot to another meant it was all a dream. She tried to convince herself it was all result from her hunger. She was becoming delirious.
“Not real,” she murmured.
“Oh yes, my poor soul, this is real,” he said. She felt his hands tighten on her throat as if to prove what he had said, slowly squeezing the flesh.
“The knife would be too easy for you,” he said. “You are such a fool to be so eager to give up what you possess. I won’t let you waste life without meaning when you could give it to me. But perhaps I can change your mind about what life really is.”
“Not life,” she murmured.
“Life. Yes. This is life as you perceive it, isn’t it? Cruel and uncaring. Perhaps you need to feel what you so desire,” he said. “A small taste of death.”
She stared into the face of the man that held her tightly by the throat. The moon was behind him and she couldn’t make out his features as they were bathed in the darkness. But she saw his eyes: they were a bright and deep red and looked as if they were on fire. She felt herself shudder involuntarily at the sight and her anger began to dissipate as it grew into its brother: Fear.
“Not real,” she said softly, trying to convince herself.
“We shall see what is real and what is not, what we think we want and what we really want.”
He moved his face close to hers now and she smelled his breath. Her mind instantly associated the smell with that of damp earth when one entered a root cellar. It was not an unpleasant smell, but that of old earth damp with moisture. A dream, she insisted. It was all a dream.
He was going to kiss her, she thought as his lips neared her own. But then he moved toward where his hands held her at the neck. She felt the pressure begin to lessen and then felt his lips touch her skin. She had the strangest reaction then, the odd sensation of cold, numbing her skin in a matter of seconds. Then there was a slight pinch and the world exploded in her mind.
C
HAPTER
E
IGHT
***
“Whatever remains must be true…” the man said. The memory of the saying of the classic detective was another reminder of his own past. His father had been an avid reader of Arthur Conan Doyle as evident by the books in their library at home. As a child, he had found those books in the library and read them as well. Was it a father’s passion passed down to a son? Just like the agency?
A father who had worked for the agency and who had gone missing during the war; his body never found according to what he had been told. A father whose handwriting looked very similar to what he was looking at right now. But in his mind, all of these similarities were not a certainty but only increased the possibility of getting to know someone that contributed to his birth fifty plus years ago. Time alone dictated that it was now a moot point in the grand scheme of things. Still, it was a mystery left unsolved. The man was too old to not be cynical about life’s events and this one was no exception. He turned the page and continued with the next diary entry.
11 October 1944
Medical evaluation results as to the condition of the body are inconclusive; however, there have been some amazing discoveries. Even though there are no responses or outward signs of life from the woman, other than those previously mentioned, the body possesses amazing healing powers I have never seen before.
Any incisions or damage to the skin quickly closes. Imagine being wounded by a bullet and the body healing itself in a matter of minutes. In addition, while the skin remains broken there is minimal blood loss. The blood is also an oddity in itself: when examined we ascertained that it contains characteristics that suggest the female is non-living, i.e. a lack of active and living cells.
As our examination progressed, it was revealed that the organs do not appear to perform the common functions we are accustomed to—in fact the results suggest that there is no longer a need for many of them. The only active organs appear to be the heart and lungs. The rest are not being used at all. Contradiction continues as we seek a determination of what this woman is.
13 October 1944
As I must have answers and seeing no other option, I have secured the local scholar as advised by our guide. By doing so I will have caused the man’s death, but there are answers here that I must have. His formal credentials indicate that he is a highly educated man respected in his community in the area of ancient myths and the interpretations of legends. Before the war he taught in the local university. His area of specialty also includes the translation of Slavic tongues considered to be extinct. This skill, I feel may be of value in the investigation due to the apparent age of the crypt.
When he arrived, he performed an examination of the female body using texts which appeared to be extremely old. He then performed a reading of some of the text aloud in a Slavic tongue with which I am not familiar. Although at first I doubted my decision to bring him in, my skepticism became less and less as he was able to produce some physical reactions from the woman. He managed to get the body to perform a movement of limbs. At one point, he also succeeded in having the woman open her eyes.
They were not eyes that one would expect to see on a human. They immediately reminded me of an animal. They looked like the eyes of a wolf. Everyone in the room had the same reaction to this. Everyone also reported feeling as if they were being looked at—all at the same time. I was grateful when she once again closed her eyes.
Although we have discovered many things that are unbelievable about this woman’s body, I was still not prepared for the scholar’s conclusion: He concurs with what the guide had said earlier about the woman being a vampire. Still he had achieved some results which we had not so I decided to go along with his assessment for the moment.
When I questioned him about her current physical condition he suggested that the weakened state of the woman is similar to a hibernation of an animal—to conserve energy. Not unlike what bears do in the winter. He also suggested that the clothing of the woman and the age of the artifacts in the chamber indicate her arrival dating to perhaps a hundred years or so ago.
Based on his observation I had an independent analysis of artifacts and clothing completed. The results of the test concluded the age is approximately one hundred twenty-five to one hundred and fifty years old. Unless they were placed in here before the woman was, or there is some other way into this crypt we have not discovered, I will have to accept this.