He said nothing. He could only shake his head, so minutely that I barely saw it in the dim light.
"Very well."
"What? David," the mother cried. She turned to her husband and then to me. "Wait!"
I turned to the girl, met her eye, and sunk my nails into the flesh of her neck.
... I'm sorry, Sara, but this is for the best.
... Please, I don't want to die. Save me. You have to save me. Please!
... There's no saving the damned, child. Death is the only release.
... NO! Don't let me di–
With one swift yank, the side of the girl's neck was wrenched from her body. The newly turned vampire girl's pleas weakened as her mother's wails became louder.
Numb to it all, I returned to my bag, wiped the blood from my hand on a terry cloth towel, and then took out my log, a light brown hide journal in which I kept information on each victim I came across. In it I wrote:
Sara Holstadtler, 13, Transylvanian, 13 Dec 2010
I put the black fountain pen inside the journal, closed it, and set it on the table next to my bag. Julia Holstadtler was still mourning her half-dead daughter, leaning over the blood-drenched body, trying to adjust the stained white nightgown so as not to show indecency. The maids stood at their mistress's side while David Holstadtler knelt on one knee by the door, his face buried in the corner, his right arm suspended overhead and plastered to the wall, as his body hovered lifeless.
"Excuse me, Mrs. Holstadtler, but it's time."
Julia lifted her head, her eyes overrun with tears. Her breathing quickened as she shrunk back from me.
"Wh-what is this? David?"
Mr. Holstadtler managed to stand but fell with his back toward the door. His eyes reflected the man before him who was holding a stake in one hand and a hammer in the other.
I walked over to Sara's lifeless body, placed the tip of the stake over her heart and plunged the hammer down hard. The ripping flesh, like the crackling sound of tearing through meat, and the gush of blood, like a big splash of paint against canvas, was deafening. Sara's body seized, her eyes forced opened with constricted pupils, her mouth gaping with no sound escaping. Slowly, the young girl I first met came back to us. Her skin thickened and grew supple, youthful, with her pointed cheek bones melting to chubby cheeks and her red eyes fading to blue. Sara was Sara again. She was human again. She was peaceful, but she was dead.
I threw the hammer in my bag, wiped my hands, and picked up my journal to add:
Sara Holstadtler, 13, Transylvanian, 13 Dec 2010 -- STAKED!
I jammed the pen back into the journal, shoved it in my bag, and walked to Mr. Holstadtler with the bag in hand.
"A word, please."
I didn't wait. I couldn't. I left the room as is and waited for Mr. Holstadtler on the other side of the door.
After exiting Sara's bedroom, I carefully closed the door behind me and then threw my bag down to the night-soaked carpet. The hallway was dark, difficult to see. The plush carpet beneath my feet may not have been red, but that's all I could see. To me, everything was blood red: the carpet, the cherry oak table lined with white lace, the antiqued mercury glass pedestal bowl with various laven-der and crème roses, purple hydrangea and chrysanthe-mums, red orchids, and burgundy dahlias. The sweet smell of flowers was sickening mixed with the smell of blood and death. I grabbed the edge of the oak table and squeezed. It moaned in my grasp, as Sara did when I held her neck mercilessly. The veins in my neck popped and my teeth clenched as I wrenched forward and then I caught sound of the bedroom door opening.
"Mr. Kade?"
I turned in solemnness, my hands peacefully folded in front of me. "I was looking at the flowers in the pedestal."
Mr. Holstadtler's brow furrowed slightly as he gazed at me strangely. "You wanted a word, sir?"
"Indeed." I walked over to my bag and took out a small hand-written note on yellow paper. "These are instructions for the burial of your daughter." Sara's father took the paper from me slowly but continued to gaze at me as if in disbelief. "Is there a problem, Mr. Holstadtler?"
"Why do we need instructions? Funerals—"
"It's not about the funeral. They're literal instructions on how the body must be laid to rest. Catholic, Christian, Jewish, Islamic matters not. As long as you follow these directions – to the letter – all will be saved."
"And if we don't?"
"The Master vampire could find your daughter, resurrect her, and plague your family."
Mr. Holstadtler's eyes bulged as the bile in his stomach churned. He slapped a hand across his mouth, turned, and then grabbed his stomach with the other hand. I turned my gaze away out of curtesy and wiped the corner of my mouth. For a moment, I just stood there, staring in the dark at nothing, but soon came back to Mr. Holstadtler's direction. He was now taking deep breaths as he patted his moistened forehead with his handkerchief. I kept watching him without saying a word.
He finally composed himself and we found ourselves eye-to-eye once more.
"Right, so, we're to follow…" he said, clearing his throat, "to follow the instructions."
"To the letter."
"To the letter. Yes, sir."
"I'll see myself out."
I walked down the blackened hall and followed the set of marble winding steps to the first floor. As I descended, light gradually washed over me. In opposition to the second floor, the first was bathed in soft, bright illumination. At the bottom of the stairs, I took a breath and released a long sigh. A small grin cracked the corner of my mouth and my spirit revived, like an old gent after great sex. I was back in my beloved light.
"Mr. Kade!" Mr. Holstadtler stood at the balcony of the staircase on the second floor. "How can we reach you if a problem arises?"
"My number's on the paper. That's my cell."
Mr. Holstadtler checked the paper:
Bury with stake in chest – do NOT take out!
Bless body in family religious convention
Burial ground must be sacred, NO private plots
Plot must be dug to 10 feet – NO less
Do NOT invite any stranger into home for 40 days
Matthias Kade, Vampyre Paladin
213-888-2622
"You're from California, then? What brings you to New York?" Mr. Holstadtler inquired, but I had already begun shutting the door behind me.