Hecatomb of the Vampire by Jones G. N

Author:Jones, G. N.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: R-Complex Studios
Published: 2023-09-26T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

A Murky Jumble

What followed was a murky jumble, possibly because of the quality and quantity of the blood he’d ingested. Enzo remembered Akila and that doctor coming back in the daylight with the entire village in tow. They’d wrapped him in cloth and put him in the same sarcophagus that once held the ancient vampire. The same vestments he’d seen in the operating room: the charms, the symbols, the pageantry, were all being used on him under Akila’s direction. Now he was the evil of a far-flung era. After that process, they’d weighed the sarcophagus down and thrown him in the river that slashed through the castle grounds. They used explosives to demolish the castle careful so as not to block the flow of the river, and burned everything inside. They left no stone unturned. Sunlight would reach every cranny of that estate. It was a matter of life and death.

He remembered smelling the smoke. He didn’t resist. In all actuality, he wanted them to kill him, but maybe he’d made enough of an impression on them for pity to stay their hands. He didn’t deserve his father’s meddling. Vincenzo Abbandonato had been a gentle boy. Unfortunately for the world, Vincenzo Abbandonato was now dead.

He remembered the sound of the river washing over his prison, day and night, his dreams swirling like the eddies of the river that kept him from the rest of the world. Scenes of the creature that used to sleep in that same coffin would play in his mind’s eye, and sometimes there were memories of a soldier, and other times he would see himself and his mother. These were the fragments of the lives of others jaggedly piecing themselves into his consciousness every time the sun came up, and when night fell he was dimly aware of his own loneliness. Decades flew by in this way.

Now in the attic of some derelict building halfway across the world, a lifetime later, Vincenzo Abbandonato’s eyes flew open. Bice had curled up next to him at some time during the day. If he looked closely, he could see her veins spiderweb over her body, crisscrossing, carrying his own cursed blood through her body. Vergil entered the room silently. It was almost nightfall. His time for dreaming was over. He could live the lives of others no longer. He clenched his fists so hard he drew stigmata on his palms. It was time to finish what he started. It was time to hunt.

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