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A Vial of Life

Page 63

   


I had emerged in a small room, some kind of storage room. Clearly at the base of the ship. My eyes lowered to the floor. Drops of blood trailed from the box to the door. It must’ve been caused by dragging that werewolf in here… Who was that?
I glanced at a set of keys lying on the floor, unceremoniously discarded as soon as the box was opened and the wolf dumped inside.
I moved to the exit and floated out into a dim corridor. I was surprised by the state of the place. Julie’s ship looked an absolute wreck. More bloodstains coated the dusty floors, there were shreds of what looked like old curtains and carpets scattered about and the walls looked like they’d been clawed by wild animals. It was like a ghoul had been let loose to rip through the ship.
Noises came from the deck above. I left the deserted corridor and moved up the stairs. Pushing open the trap door and emerging out in the open—into a dark, cloudy night—I almost swallowed my tongue.
Surrounding me was a scene of utter horror. Piled on the long deck were row upon row of… vampires? They all lay on their backs, tossing and turning and writhing in agony. Each had puncture marks in their necks, their heads resting in pools of their own blood.
Floorboards creaked behind me. I whirled around to find myself face to face with… I didn’t even know what they were. They looked like creatures who belonged in a nightmare. They stood, rawboned and naked, with stark-white papery skin and bald skulls. Their faces were gaunt, with slightly receded noses and small black dots for eyes. There must have been at least sixty of them.
I was still on Julie’s ship, wasn’t I?
What the hell happened here?
My heart pounded as one of them jolted toward me, its reedy arms outstretched. Long black claws extended from its fingers and it bared fangs… fangs that reminded me of a vampire’s, except longer, sharper, more protruding. I shot upward to dodge the creature’s advance and hovered near the sails as I gazed down at the horrific scene.
I glanced out toward the ocean to spot in the distance an island. It looked like The Tavern. The vessel was speeding away—The Tavern must have been where the ship had stopped— and following us were three other ships. A loud explosion blasted from one of them, and a giant canon ball hurtled toward the bow of Julie’s ship. It narrowly missed, but was soon followed by half a dozen more explosions. Heavy metal ball after ball came thundering toward the ship— most grazing it, while a couple even penetrated the vessel’s body.
But what are these creatures who have overtaken Julie’s ship? And what’s happening to those vampires writhing on the ground? It looked like they were… turning. But they were already vampires. Weren’t they?
Whatever these creatures were, it appeared that they’d done something to anger the people of the Tavern. Julie’s sharks however, seemed to be far stronger and faster than any of the ships chasing after us. The ship endured another shower of cannon balls, but then the sharks managed to create more distance between us and the attackers and they could no longer reach us. Then it seemed that the aggressors slowed and gave up altogether.
As my eyes drifted over the rows of squirming vampires, my blood ran cold. One of them appeared to be thrashing about in particular pain. He looked different than the others, too—his skin much whiter and his body emaciated. He reached a hand up into his mop of thick brown hair and, closing his fist around it, began to tug violently. A clump pulled away in his hand. He dropped it to the floor and then slid both hands against his skull to draw out two more clumps. By the fifth pull, the hair seemed to be coming out much more easily—he barely even needed to tug. Just running his fingers against his scalp seemed to cause masses to shed… until he had not even a single strand left.
Rolling over on his stomach, he gathered himself together and stood up shakily to his full height. His gaunt face contorted, he teetered on his feet and began tearing the clothes from his body as though they were on fire. Then his eyes set forward and fixed on the frightful creatures standing in a pack on the other side of the deck.
The one who’d motioned to attack me loped forward and grabbed the hand of the sickly vampire, pulling him over to join the rest of its wraithlike comrades. It was as the vampire stood next to the creature, and I gazed at their faces side by side—growing more eerily alike by the moment—that the chilling realization crashed down upon me like a bucket of ice shards.
I couldn’t believe the sight, and yet I knew that I was not hallucinating.
Taking place before my very eyes was a phenomenon that I was certain had never occurred before in all of supernatural history.
God forbid… Could this really be happening?