The night was dark – pitch black –
except for the stars in the sky. It was a new moon, which made the stars seem
even brighter. I perched atop the steeple of a desolate church in an abandoned
town of a forgotten corner of the world. Couldn’t remember exactly where I was
or what day it was. All I did know was that it was time to kill again. It was
war; they were the enemy. That is the lie I kept feeding myself for all these
years, like a glutton. With eyes closed, memories of better days filled my
head, when I was young, when I was a man. My wife, she was beautiful. Sure most
men will say that, but mine really was. Her eyes were like crystal blue gems
that sparkled in the twilight. Her hair was soft and silky, and her skin was as
smooth as a babes. But that was ages ago. She had passed from this world, and
my final memories of her were not as fond as my first.
I had just returned from a Holy
crusade, fighting for the same Church that I fought against now. They told us
our sins would be forgiven, that God would not punish us for killing our
enemies, who were evil spawns of the devil. Funny thing is that you could use
those very words to describe me now. When I came home the night that I returned,
she threw her arms around me. It had been almost 2 years since we had last seen
each other. And when I left we were practically newlyweds. Her touch was not as
tender, her grab quite forceful. I took a hold of her with passion, and we
rolled on the bed. I was on my back removing my shirt and she seductively moved
her hand across my chest. But then her eyes changed from sparkling blue to pale
yellow. Her teeth grew jagged; her canines protruded outward like the fangs of
a cobra. Fear and confusion consumed me. I had just come back from serving the
Lord, while my wife had become a demon. She lunged at my throat, but I grabbed
her by the hair and threw her off of me. The succubus that had been my wife
moved toward me again, so fast that I could not stop her. She slashed my cheek
and then sprayed me in the face with venom so acidic it burned through my flesh.
On my knees, I prayed for salvation, and for my wife to be returned to her
sweet innocent self. There was no way I could fight her, she was still the
woman that I loved. That was when he arrived. His voice boomed, calling the
demoness before me to stand down, and he thrust a silver spear through her
heart. All at once she caught on fire and was consumed into nothingness. My
eyes burned, my face was bleeding, but still I tried to look at the man who had
just saved my life. All I could see was a black blob in front of me. Then I
fainted.
The next
morning I woke up in a strange bed. My savior stood over me with some porridge
for breakfast. He told me I needed to regain my strength. The porridge was
thick and red, and smelled like iron. At the time I was not sure what it was
exactly. The mysterious man who had come to my aid was tall, with a strong jaw
and broad shoulders. He was older, looked maybe 50 or so, though I would
discover he was much older than that. His hair was silver grey, and he wore a
cloth around his nose and mouth. His eyes were piercing, and looked red in the
dimly lit room. He told me that we were in the cellar of a monastery in France.
That made no sense since last night I had been at my home in the hills of Great
Britain. My head was throbbing, and I felt weak and strong at the same time, like
I was teetering between life and death. He assured me that this pain would pass
quickly and that soon he would tell me more. After that I fell asleep for what
felt like days. I had no dreams, which was odd for me for I usually had many.
But since then I have never dreamed again. Maybe because there is no hope in
dreaming when your reality is Hell.
Days passed
and then weeks, and I discovered much over this period of time. It was very difficult
to believe at first but the evidence was too convincing to not believe. In
order for me to survive the toxic venom that had been doused onto my face by a
creature that was once the most beautiful maiden to ever walk God’s green Earth,
this man, my savior and now master, had to sire me. He was a vampire, a demon.
And now so was I. But he was much more than just a vampire. He was the High
Guardian of the Faith, and I was now one of his knights. I had heard of this
order before – the Guardians of the Faith – but had never known anyone who had
been a part of it. They were an elite group of warriors, who were saved for
those special occasions where the might of mere men was just not enough. They
would come on an enemy in the dark of the night, slaying them with a precision
like no other. Now I understood it better. Though never would I have dreamed
that the very Church that severed God would make a pact with the Devil, or at
least part of his brood. And now I was part of this organization, fighting for
the same Church that I fought for in the crusades. More holy wars, more death –
it was hard to see God’s hand in any of this.
I never understood why my master let
me live, why he saved me that night. He told me that he had known of an enemy
plot to kill me. They had captured my wife while I was away at war, and through
a ritual they had transformed her into the monster that I met the night I
returned. The Church could not afford to lose such a soldier as myself. They
had plans for me, big plans, as I was one of their best. Now those plans had
evolved, and being undead as I was, I could be an even stronger asset for them.
But first I had a lot to learn from my master about my new powers and how to
use them for good, or so they told me. Honestly, I would much rather have been
dead. An endless lifetime alone without my love was no life I wanted,
especially not as a creature of the darkness. There was more to this perplexing
tale, some of which I had to learn much later. Thoughts of suicide played in my
mind constantly. I even fought my battles recklessly at first, hoping that I
would be killed, but there was something inside of me that kept me from dying –
a force of nature. I would say it was my spirit or God, but I was certain both
had abandoned me by then. My scarred face was my constant reminder of what I
now was, and what I had lost. I was forever changed. I even had a new name –
Penance – the name given to me by my master because I would cleanse the world
of its sin through the destruction of all that was evil.
We only fought at night, as we
could not go out during the day. Being creatures of the dark, the light of the
sun could prove to be fatal to us. The war we waged was mostly against other
demonic beings – vampires, shape-shifters, and even creatures from the depths
of Hell. Their blood and the blood of the men who fought by their side was our
food, the only way for us to survive. Our weapons of choice were all forged in
silver – swords, knives, and spears for the most part, though some of us had
much more creative weapons. We also made sure to have all of our weapons
blessed by the priests, and because of this we could not hold them without
thick gloves to protect ourselves.
But those days have come to an end.
The crusades are long gone, centuries ago. And now the tides have turned for I
am an enemy of the Church, hunted by them every day, or rather night, of my
life. I find caves and hollows to sleep during the hours where the suns rays
blanket the earth. Though, I wish I could bask in those rays, and feel their
warmth. My body is cold. And I still ask my self why I live on. Why I don’t
just walk out into the light of day and let my body fade to nothingness,
releasing me from this prison. That thing inside me won’t let me die. That
force won’t let me go. So I carry on, wondering when it will all end – this war
between light and darkness – confused by who is really good, and who is evil. And
how did I end up fighting against that which I fought for so many years? Much
happens when you learn the truth. And I learned a lot.
It was a new moon, much like tonight,
except on that night there were no stars in the sky. Clouds rolled over us, as
the fire from our torches were our only light. I lead our group to a castle in
the south end of Turkey. The lord of that castle was like us, a vampire, but
his allegiance was to the wrong side of the war. His minions flew down to us,
attacking from above and clawing at our heads. We put up our shields and struck
with our weapons. But they were fast. Fortunately, for us so were we. By this
time I had learned much of my powers, as did the men who fought beside me. We
were taught by our master, and he was the best, an ancient vampire who had been
from the first. Not many could say that. The creature inside that castle was
another, though. With our wings spread and our claws revealed, we took to the
sky and battled our enemies on their turf. Quickly we began to make progress,
and cut our way through the horde of beasts before us. We lost some of our own
as well, but eventually, we defeated all of the minions of the dark lord we
sought to kill. We sieged the castle and moved inside. He was waiting for us;
he was waiting for me. In no time that beast slew all of the soldiers who were
with me. But for some reason he kept me alive. He just looked at me. I was
unable to move. That is when he spoke.
His lips
did not move; they didn’t have to. His voice whispered though my head.
Telepathy was a power only the ancients knew how to command, along with
telekinesis which is what held me stiff, unable to move as he unraveled things
I did not want to know or believe. But I found myself unable to resist doing both.
There was a truth in what he said to me, a type of truth I had not known in a
long, probably, because I was used to lies. But, I had known this type of truth
once before. I found it in my love. That is why I was so accepting of all that I
heard. It felt as if it were coming straight from her lips. Those soft, warm
lips that I missed so much. I had been a fool this whole time. There was no ritual
that turned my wife into a demon. No, it was my very master who did it. He had
wanted me to join his team for some time, seeing potential in me that he saw in
no other. He knew that if he corrupted my wife he could win me over, especially
if he could appear to me my savior. Certain authorities in the Church, men who
hungered for power, going to any means to receive it, even to the Devil
himself, sanctioned the order that I had joined. Though, it was not sanctioned
by the Faith. My master was the true dark lord, and the side I had fought on
was the true enemy. The demon before me was no angel either, though, but he was
accepting of his inner beast. He knew what he was, and he was not trying to
live in the shadow of men. He was a murderer, a monster, and he could destroy
the entire world with the wave of his hand. But he had no desire to do so. He
did not want any earthly power. He just wanted to exist. Killing only what he
needed for food. Though at this stage, he did not even have to do the killing,
but rather had his minions bring him sweet meals from time to time. The monster
allowed me to leave with the truth, wanting to see what I did with it, and what
I would and could become. He also felt I had potential. He had never known a young
blood to be as powerful as I was, or so he said. My power was rooted in the
ancients he had told me.
That night
I escaped with my life, or whatever facsimile of a life it was and went into
hiding. My master knew I had the truth now, and his soldiers hunted me day and
night. For centuries I have fled from being destroyed, gaining more knowledge
of my powers and myself, hoping that one day I will have enough power to defeat
that evil demon that spawned me to this undead existence and repay him for
taking away the only love I ever knew. But he is an ancient like that dark lord
I met that night, and my power is still nothing next to his. By I vow that the
day will come when I end his reign and serve him a penance that is long
overdue. But before that day more blood must be shed. I need to feed in order
to survive. Some of his soldiers will be my victims. They will pay for his sins
for now, and they will also pay for mine.
