Jack Kursed Page 2

  He pushed on. The shouts and taunts of the town weren't far behind. There were four, maybe five voices. John moved under the cover of darkness for a few minutes, but daybreak was slowly approaching. Soon, he wouldn't be able to hide, and he couldn't run forever.

  "I see him up there! Come on, we got him!'

  He jumped over a fallen tree. His neck snapped back as the loose rope caught on a limb. He pulled free and kept running, but could hear them getting closer.

  The sound of the river was just ahead. John enjoyed fishing there with his father when he was younger. If he could cross it somehow, maybe they'd give up their chase. Or perhaps he could simply let the current carry him away.

  John heard the footsteps a moment before colliding into her. Her forehead smacked into his chin, and they both fell to the ground. There was a feminine cry of surprise as he landed on his side.

  He couldn't believe his eyes.

  The first thing he was drawn to was the long red hair, well beyond her shoulders. Piercing green eyes, very pale skin. She wore a black dress, torn near her neck, and was covered in blood. Resembling upper class, it looked like she had been enjoying a night out.

  He gasped when he finally took note of her face.

  Her mouth was open, and John saw her abnormally long canines, like a dog or a wolf. Her eyes shifted from green to red, a deeper shade than her hair. An open wound bled where her dress was torn, her breasts nearly exposed. Blood dripped to the ground.

  Despite the physical oddities, her expression was human, and one John knew all too well.

  Fear.

  He shouted as she crawled toward him. John couldn't move backwards, as his bound hands were in the way. She made her way up his body as he squirmed under her.

  She gripped the ax, still in his chest, and pulled it free. Hauling him to his feet with one hand, she cut the rope binding his wrists and removed the noose around his neck.

  Five men stopped as they caught sight of the both of them, holding various weapons. John thought they were men from his town, having circled around to trap him. When he didn't recognize them he realized the redheaded woman was in the same situation he was. Running for her life.

  John spun when he heard more footsteps. Men he'd known most of his life, Samuel, Henry, Alexander, and Mark, stood their ground, holding axes, pitchforks, and torches.

  Something pressed against his back. He took a quick glance over his shoulder to see the mysterious redheaded woman pressing against him, staring down her own pursuers.

  "Fire will kill me," she said, gesturing to the torches. "What will kill you?"

  John looked down at his chest, where only a minute ago an ax was embedded in his flesh. There was no wound, no injury at all. There was only a small trail of blood that led down his torso onto his hip.

  "I...don't know."

  She twirled the ax she'd taken from John. "An interesting problem to have."

  The woman pushed away from John as Samuel lunged forward with his pitchfork. Two of the tines went through his throat. Samuel pushed as hard as he could, driving John back, until the pitchfork lodged in a tree.

  John coughed as his throat tickled. He was aware of the fight going on behind him. An ax cutting through the air, cries of pain, what sounded like an animal snarling.

  Alexander stepped forward and swung his ax as hard as he could. The blade struck John above the ear, but barely penetrated, like Alexander had attacked a wall of stone.

  John felt no pain.

  He looked at the men standing before him, fear written across their faces. They didn't give him mercy, allow him to explain himself, grant him a trial. They dragged him out of his home and killed Angela, laughing the entire time. They were trying to kill him.

  They had failed, and they would pay with their lives.

  He grabbed the pitchfork that still pinned him to the tree. It took him two pulls to completely clear the tines from his throat. His former neighbors, except for Samuel, slowly backed up.

  John dropped the pitchfork and reached for the ax in his head. There was no pain and only a little bleeding. He gripped the ax and swung at Samuel. Whatever enchantment had happened to John was not the case for Samuel, as his head fell from his shoulders and landed a few feet away from his falling body.

  Henry, Alexander, and Mark turned to run. They didn't look back at their fallen friend, didn't try to avenge him. They ran just as fast in fear as they did when giving chase. John nearly took a step in pursuit when he heard a female scream behind him.

  His knees shook as he looked at the scene.

  Blood was everywhere, on the ground, the trees, the leaves. The men who chased the woman all lay dead at her feet. She had killed them all in seconds. Limbs were scattered about, a hand here, a foot there. She was covered in blood, like she had bathed in it. The ax she removed from John's shoulder was buried in someone's neck.

  She was screaming at the rising sun, poking its way through the treetops. A beam of light caught her cheek, and John watched in fascination as it singed her skin.

  The woman dove to the ground and pulled the closest body on top of her.

  "Sir?" she said, panic in her voice. "May I ask for your assistance?"

  "Uh..."

  "Would you cover me, please? Quickly now. The sun and I aren't the best of friends. Drag these bodies on top of me."

  John didn't ask any questions. He needed something to do, anything, to keep from screaming, and covering the mysterious woman with dead corpses was as good a task as any.

  He moved one corpse, and then another, before breaking down and crying. As he dragged the last corpse onto the pile, he realized he was still naked. He was eying the corpses for a comparable size when the woman spoke.

  "Please, don't move any of them. I know you need clothes, but I'll die if the sunlight finds me."

  John said nothing. He stumbled away from the pile of bodies, heading toward the river. He walked in up to his waist and immersed himself. The water was cold, but not as much as it should have been. He washed the blood off as best he could and scrubbed his hair.

  "Sir!" the woman called. "I know you're still there. Could I talk with you?"

  John laughed and cried as he left the river and sat next to the pile of bodies. Part of him knew he should be more conscious of the fact that he was naked in front of a strange woman. But another part of him knew that was the least important thing happening.

  "What are you?" she asked. "I thought you were like me. But...normal heartbeat, immune to sunlight. And was I seeing things, or did an ax and pitchfork do nothing to you?"

  John couldn't speak. He tried to find the words, but found it impossible to talk to a voice hidden in a mass of corpses. His neck and head were fine. There was nothing to remind him of what Samuel and Alexander did to him. Only his memory.

  "I'm Victoria. What's your name?"

  "John."

  "That's a good, strong name. Tell me, how did you come to be naked in these woods?"

  He laughed and stared into the mass of bodies. He could barely see her eyes, looking at him from between an arm and where Samuel's head used to be.

  "I...I had an encounter with a witch."

  "You made a deal with a witch?"

  "No. She made me drink something."

  "You poor man. Who knows what she's done to you. She's dead now, I hope? Witches are the most dangerous creatures alive."

  John shook his head. Angela was the first person in years to show him kindness and attention. But as he rubbed where the pitchfork struck his throat, he couldn't help but feel she did something terrible to him.

  "She's dead," he said quietly. "And what are you, exactly?"

  "I thought you might have guessed. I'm a vampire."

  The fangs. The red eyes. The allergy to sunlight. John remembered the stories his father told him when he was younger, but he said the only thing he could.

  "Vampires aren't real. They're just stories."

  "And yesterday at this time, I'm sure witches and wi
tchcraft were just stories, too."

  John was quiet.

  Victoria shifted under the bodies as more sunlight passed through the trees.

  "You have to stay hidden until night?" John asked.

  "Yes. I'll sleep soon, but if anyone finds and exposes me, I'll burn."

  "I'll stay with you, watch over you. We are the Devil's children, after all, and I no longer have a home."

  "Stop that nonsense. Whether a witch enchanted you or not, we are who we choose to be. But...thank you for staying. And please, don't be disgusted by this."

  John watched the bodies shift slightly. There was a biting sound, followed by what sounded like licking. Blood ran down Samuel's arm, disappearing into the darkness under his corpse.

  Victoria was drinking Samuel's blood.

  Vampires. Witches. The legends were true.

  "I think I might be losing my mind."

  "Don't worry. I'll help you find it."

  *****

  Victoria continued to talk as the hours passed. Ants marched in front of John. Birds sang in the trees. It was a beautiful morning, a stark contrast to the hell he'd been through.

  John couldn't focus on Victoria's words. She was telling a story of some kind, as if hiding from the sun under dead corpses next to a naked man was completely normal. Her voice was lovely and helped relax him somewhat.

  But he couldn't shake the dark thoughts.

  The town needed to be punished.

  "John? Are you even listening?"

  He shook his head, trying to stop the deadly daydreaming.

  "I'm sorry. I'm a little distracted."

  "Of course you are. No, I'm the one who's sorry. Sadly, killing men before they kill me is something I've done many times. But let me try to help you. I'm familiar with witches. You said she made you drink something?"

  "Yes, something very disgusting. I knocked it away from her before she could drink. She said we'd be together forever."

  Victoria laughed. "Immortality. Something witches have been searching for since the Black Death. Impossible, though, except for those humans unfortunate enough to become vampires."

  "How did you become a vampire?"

  "That's none of your concern," she said sharply.

  John was quiet. He ran the blade of the ax he'd taken from the corpse pile down his arm for the fifth time. It hurt only for a second as blood dripped from his skin to the ground. The wound closed, not even leaving a scar.

  "Immortality," he whispered.

  "I have to sleep now, John. We'll talk when the night falls."

  The hours went by slowly. John lay in the dirt by the river, hoping sleep would overtake him. He wasn't tired in the slightest. Several times he thought he heard horses in the distance, but they didn't approach.

  He wasn't sure what he'd do if they did.

  John was tossing stones in the river when he finally heard movement behind him. He turned to see Victoria pushing through her way through the corpses, tossing them aside. It wasn't night, but the sun had set.

  "This was definitely a strange day," she said.

  John rose to his feet and approached her. He finally had a chance to study her, to truly look at her.

  Victoria looked human now, no fangs, green eyes. Even looking as disheveled as she did, she was a beautiful woman. Petite, not very tall. She moved with a sense of grace and confidence. John could imagine her moving effortlessly through her high-society gatherings, enchanting everyone she talked to.

  She smiled at John as she pushed her hair back behind her shoulders. He turned away as she slipped out of her dress and stood before him naked.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her step into the river as he searched the dead bodies for someone his size. He didn't like the idea of wearing a dead man's clothes, but he'd been nude long enough.

  He'd just fastened his pants when Victoria emerged from the river. He blushed as he caught another eyeful of her pale, perfect skin.

  "This dress was expensive," she said, slipping it on.

  "Victoria, thank you. If you hadn't freed me, I'm not sure what would have happened."

  "You're welcome. You saved me, too. I was low on blood, and that ax in your chest was useful. It's been a long time since I had a day guardian."

  John smiled and graciously bowed his head. His expression turned angry as he turned and walked away.

  "Where are you going?"

  "To kill the people in my town."

  Victoria said nothing for a moment. She caught up to him and spun him around by the shoulder.

  "Are you serious?"

  "Very."

  "John, listen to me. I don't know everything that happened, but your town killed a witch. That's a good thing-"

  "They tried to kill me, too. They hated me and my family for years, and Angela was just an excuse."

  He turned to continue on his way.

  "Even if that were true, killing them won't make you feel better."

  "It might."

  She spun him by the shoulder once again. He pulled away more violently this time.

  "My family was slaughtered while we slept," she said. "I have no idea why, or how. I just woke up, and I was like this. I've killed people, but only when I had to. I don't let being a vampire change who I am. Whatever this witch Angela did to you, don't let it change you."

  John was quiet as he stared at Victoria. Flashes of the town throwing rocks at him while he swayed from a noose went through his mind. He killed Samuel in the moment of defending himself, but he was not a cold-blooded murderer.

  "Fine. Maybe you're right. But I do need to go back to town. There are some clothes and books in my home. I'll sneak in to get them, and then...start over, I guess."

  She nodded and walked with him side-by-side.

  "I'll help you. I can put you up for a while, help you find work."

  "Why are you helping me? No one has ever helped me with anything before."

  "You saw me at my worst. Weak, starving for blood. You could have chased those men, had your revenge. But you stayed to help me."

  John smiled and nodded. They walked through the woods as night settled over them.

  On the strangest day of his life he'd made a new friend.

  *****

  It took some time to make their way through the woods. John couldn't see much in front of him, and Victoria ended up having to lead. Apparently, as she explained, vampires have better senses. They could see in the dark, and Victoria would stop occasionally, listen, and then walk once again.

  "We need to hurry," she said. "I don't want to get caught in the daylight again."

  "I don't have much, just some clothes. And there's a book or two I'd like to take."

  Victoria's nose twitched as a familiar scent moved through the air. Burning flesh. She held out an arm to stop him.

  "John, maybe we should turn back."

  He saw the concern on her face. He moved around her and broke into a jog.

  The smoke touched his nose as the forest opened up into town. The fire that engulfed his home reached into the night. The fence, the vegetable garden, all destroyed by fire. Nathan, who spent most of his time at the bar, urinated into the flames, laughing and swaying.

  Nailed to the side of his house was a charred body.

  John ran. He passed Roy and his wife, who gave him a long look, as well as a stray dog. He dropped to his knees as he drew closer. Several spikes held up the messy corpse.

  The word witch was written above in blood.

  Victoria grabbed him gently by the shoulder, urging him to stand up.

  "We have to go," she said. "Your home is gone. I'm sorry."

  "I was born in this house. The few good memories I have were all here. And Angela, dear God..."

  John and Victoria were out in the open for all to see. She looked around as the town organized. Her sensitive ears picked up whispers, guns being loaded, blades sharpened.

  "Let's go," she said.

  Victoria hooked him under the arms
and hoisted him to his feet. She only managed to move him a single step when the shot rang out. The bullet went clear through her shoulder. Wincing in pain, she fell to the ground, taking John with her.

  "Victoria!"

  His concern was short-lived as she smiled up at him.

  "That hurt. But I'll be fine."

  John looked over his shoulder at the line of people approaching. Henry, Alexander, and Mark carried rifles. Michael clutched a Bible. Daniel had an ax slung over his shoulder. Maybe twenty or so people in all. Heads poked in and out of doors and windows.

  "You're not welcome here, John. You or your new witch. Come back to put a spell on us?"

  "She's not a witch. Listen, we just-"

  Henry and Mark opened fire. John pulled Victoria to her knees and wrapped his arms around her, shielding her and turning his back to them. He'd never been shot before. The worst accident he ever had was fishing with his father. He caught a catfish, and it fought so much coming off the hook that John poked himself.

  Being shot felt like that. Tiny pinpricks of pain, before fading into nothingness.

  The firing slowed down as they stopped to reload. John looked at Victoria to see surprise on her face.

  "Are you okay?" she asked.

  "I feel fine."

  Victoria ran her hand down his head and back, feeling no injuries. There were no hard lumps under his skin where the wounds healed over bullets. It was like the bullets never struck him. She finally noticed the bullets on the ground at John's feet.

  They both looked up at Angela's corpse.

  "What did she do to me?"

  Angela's words echoed in John's mind. We'll live together forever. Victoria had said immortality was impossible, except for a vampire.

  She was wrong.

  John stood up and spun around, still making sure he was in position to cover Victoria. A bullet struck his chest, and even his head, but did nothing except rock his body slightly.

  The dark, deadly thoughts returned. Somewhere in his mind he knew his neighbors were simple people, and thought they did a good deed by hanging and burning a witch.

  But they needed to suffer for what they did.

  "If you want to live, run," he shouted, marching toward them.

  CHAPTER 2