The Vampire
“Tell me,” said Professor Adrienne Van Helsing, “what you think you know about vampires.”
The attractive woman of early middle years looked down over her reading glasses at the two graduate students, who stood on the other side of her book-strewn desk.
“They prey on humans,” said Brittany Seward. “They feed on our blood, which is the only sustenance they require for immortality.”
“Not immortality,” Van Helsing said. “They are already dead, and thus cannot live forever. But yes, our blood sustains them and enables them to exist beyond the grave.”
“They can turn into bats and wolves and mist,” said Jeanine Harker. “And they can control the weather and untamed beasts.”
“Unproven and likely false,” Van Helsing said. “In documenting hundreds of vampire attacks, and interviewing several captured vampires, I have uncovered no evidence whatsoever to support those old wives’ tales.”
“They can mesmerize humans,” said Brittany. “They can make us do anything they command and forget that we ever saw them.”
“Mesmerize? No,” Van Helsing said. “Intimidate, terrify, coerce, overwhelm? Yes. They cannot control our minds. But we fear them, which makes us weaker and more easily swayed by them. That is the most important thing to remember. Keep your fear in check. You know their weaknesses, you know how to protect yourselves and others from them. Use your knowledge, your skills, and your weapons. But don’t give any credence to falsehoods and fantasies. Those will befuddle you, steer you wayward into doom. If you are to come with me into the master’s lair, you must be strong of hand, stout of heart, and clear of head. Are you all of those things?”
Jeanine and Brittany exchanged resolute looks with one another. Then Brittany nodded to her friend.
“Absolutely, Professor,” Jeanine said. “We’re with you all the way.”
* * * * *
Van Helsing closed her eyes and wiped a besmirched glove over them. With a flick of her wrist, she flung the viscous red fluid that had come off her face onto the dirt floor.
Her two compatriots stood before her. Brittany held a bandage to her bleeding scalp. Jeanine mimicked her mentor and wiped blood from her face and arms.
“Are you all right, Brittany?” Van Helsing asked.
“Yes, Professor,” she said. “It’s not deep. I’m fine.”
“Good. You’ve both done well. We’ve sent seven of those demons back to hell. I believe that is all of the lesser ones. Now, we must tackle the master itself. It will be stronger than its minions and much more intelligent. We have a fight before us, unlike any we have fought before. Let’s go.”
They continued down the dank hallway, Van Helsing leading the way. Soon, they came to an intersection. Van Helsing held aloft her green-tinted lantern and scanned each passageway. Only dirt and moldy walls met her probing stare. She waved the women forward.
When they had passed the intersection, Brittany heard what sounded like a whispered gasp. She turned to ask if Jeanine had heard it, too. But her friend was nowhere to be seen.
“Professor!”
Van Helsing whirled and instantly saw that Jeanine was gone.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“We must continue forward. The fiend has her. How it got her, I don’t know. But I do know it won’t kill her yet, not for a time. Hurry, now. We must find them both. And then we must end its foul existence.”
They hurried onward.
“Brittany.”
The voice sounded in Brittany’s ear several minutes later, as she and Van Helsing descended a winding stone staircase. She paused, then turned to look behind her.
Jeanine stood three steps above her. Wearing the same clothes as before, only without her boots and socks, she carried nothing but a lantern to light her way. A serene, almost sleepy expression graced her features.
“Take my hand, Brittany.”
Brittany started to do as she was bid. But the unreality of the situation stayed her hand. Where had Jeanine been? Why had she snuck up on them? Why was she barefoot?
“Professor,” Brittany said.
Now several steps ahead of her, Van Helsing stopped and turned around. She gasped in surprise and raced back up to where Brittany stood.
“I thought you said vampires couldn’t mesmerize people,” Brittany said.
“They can’t.”
“But look at her. It’s done something to her.”
“Nonsense. I see no bite marks on her neck. She hasn’t been drained. And she doesn’t look injured. She’s just had a scare. A bad one, no doubt. But she’ll shake it off presently. Come on. Bring her along and keep moving.”
Now Brittany held out her hand to Jeanine, who walked unhurriedly down to her and took it. Then, gently, Brittany tugged forward. Together, the women walked down the stairs.
At the bottom of the staircase, Van Helsing stopped again. She held her lantern high and waved it before her. Its pale green illumination cast everything in an otherworldly sheen. But, as she had told the younger, more inexperienced women who had joined her on this quest, it would not be as noticeable to the denizens of the lair, nor would it be as likely to set off any photo-sensitive traps.
Seeing nothing but the usual dirt all around, she proceeded forward, calling back to the women behind her.
“I think we’re close now. Be ever watchful and infinitely careful.”
She received no response.
With a knowing dread filling her gut with bile, she turned to see emptiness behind her. How could it have happened again? Hadn’t she heard Brittany and Jeanine’s footsteps all the way down the stairs? Or had she?
There was nothing to do about it now. She had to continue on her own. Giving into doubt and fear would neither help herself, nor her companions. But reaching the heart of the lair and killing the master would end its reign of terror forever and set them free.
She inhaled a deep breath, held it for a long moment, and then exhaled it slowly. Her nerves both calmed and steeled now, she walked forward into the darkness.
Soon, she came upon a doorway that opened into a broad, brightly lit chamber. She stepped up to the threshold and peered inside. Torch holders lined the walls, and the smell of burning pitch pervaded the room. To the left, she saw a heavy oaken door. On the back wall, she saw a table with several implements placed upon it, none of which she could clearly make out from where she stood. To the right, she noticed three chairs, two of them occupied.
“Brittany! Jeanine!”
Neither woman responded to her call. Both sat in their chairs, not moving. Like Jeanine had been when she briefly returned to the group on the staircase, Brittany was now barefoot. Her face had been washed, and her head wound had been dressed. She and Jeanine both wore the same relaxed, drowsy expressions on their faces.
Van Helsing entered the room, fully expecting a trap, but unwilling to leave her companions in their current vulnerable state. But instead of heading towards them, she followed her instincts and walked to the table against the far wall.
She stared long and hard at each item on the table. Remembering what Brittany had said to her earlier and how she had responded, she deduced their purpose.
They can mesmerize humans. They can make us do anything they say and forget that we ever saw them after attacking us. -- Mesmerize? No...They cannot control our minds.
I thought you said vampires couldn’t mesmerize people. -- They can’t. -- But look at her. It’s done something to her.
And so it had done something to Jeanine. And now to Brittany, as well. But not with any supernatural telepathy or enchanting gaze. No, the fiend had used all too ordinary tools to bend her companions to its will.
She lifted a vial half full of clear fluid, labeled with a Latin name she was well familiar with from her medical studies. The drug was a fast-acting sedative, with a side effect of heightening suggestibility. Also on the table were several syringes and a small, battery powered strobe light.
“No my dear, Brittany,” Van Helsing thought to herself as she placed the vial back on the table, “vampires can’t mesmerize their victims with any innate powers. But they can with modern drugs and old fashioned techniques designed by the very species they prey on.”
“Professor.”
Van Helsing heard the two voices speaking as one directly behind her. She turned to see Brittany and Jeanine standing there. Engrossed as she had been in her deductions, she hadn’t heard them walk up to her.
“Take our hands, Professor.”
“I don’t think so, girls. You should sit back down. I have to work to do. Don’t worry. You’ll be safe soon. I promise.”
With no change in their relaxed expressions or demeanors, the women struck out with the speed of vipers. Van Helsing suddenly found herself in a vice-like embrace by Jeanine, while Brittany dove for something on the table. Too late, Van Helsing understood what was happening.
“No! Brittany, don’t!”
It took a tortuously long time for Brittany to prepare the syringe and fill it with a dosage of the drug from the vial. All the while, Van Helsing struggled against Jeanine’s bear hug, to no avail. Finally, Brittany raised up the full hypodermic and plunged it into her arm.
In mere seconds, a comforting warmth spread through her body. It washed away all the harsh, cold feelings of stress and fear that had previously filled her, replacing them with an enveloping sense of peacefulness and relaxation.
“Come. Follow us.”
Jeanine had let the professor go. She and Brittany walked to the chairs, and Van Helsing followed them.
“Sit.”
Van Helsing sat.
“Look. Up here. Keep your eyes on the light.”
Brittany held up the strobe light that she had retrieved from the table. As directed, the professor lifted her gaze to it. As soon as it entered her sight, the light devoured her. She could look nowhere else, nor think of anything but it.
“Very good, Professor. Very good. Keep looking at the light. Keeping looking at it. Keep looking...and listen to us. Listen to our voices. Our voices are all you know. They are your thoughts. They are your will.”
Dimly, distantly, at the edge of consciousness, Van Helsing felt soft, strong hands pulling off her shoes and socks. In a moment, cool air caressed her bare feet. She smiled at the pleasant sensation and wished she could drift off to sleep right then and there.
But the voices continued to speak. And she had to listen, to obey.
“You must do as we say. And you must do as our master says. You must obey our master. He is our master and yours. You must obey him now and always. Obey him now and always.”
The cadence of their voices matched the timing of the strobe light. Completely hypnotized by it, Van Helsing’s mind absorbed their refreshing words like a dry sponge desiring to be full of water.
After several minutes of endlessly repeating the commands, Brittany and Jeanine fell silent. Brittany then turned off the strobe light. Released now from its hold, Van Helsing’s gaze fell downward to the floor.
The last thing she saw before sleep blissfully overcame her was the oaken door open. From behind it emerged a tall, lithe man in silhouette. His appearance caused no fear in her, no apprehension, nor agitation. She accepted him as her master. She would obey him, now and always.