When I reached Whitehall I headed to the Dark Candle, the local p ub. The topic of discussion was as usual, a discussion of everything from rainfall to corr ect rabbit trapping. Tonight, however a dark mood had settled itself on the patrons. People w ere upset at the killings near the graveyard, where several people had been found not only dead, but drained of all their blood. An old man sat in the corner talking to seve ral youger men. He was dressed in old suit, probably the same one he wore to church, as few of these people could afford much.
"The Old Ones still hold much power over this land, call them vampires or what have you, but they are not myths. They are immortal and can change form to whatever form they like. They could be killed by a wooden stake and sprig of garlic or even a silver crucifix wood could temporarily drive them away. Be wary for though they have no need of nourishment the immortals will feed on the life of mortals." One of the men, a young farmer by the name of Patrick DeCara, if I recall correctly seemed to be quite interested, but his companions seemed quite skeptical. One of them, a large blond haired ogre on his fifth pint of stout seemed to think the whole thing hilarious.
"Next he'll be lecturing us on the eating habits of leprechauns. I say we go get our guns and see how long he lasts against thirty rounds in his stomach." Th e third was a smaller man although he bore a strong resemblance to the first two.
"Ya Pat, Collins right, we haven't got all night and I don' want to spend all nightpicking garlic. Let's just get our guns and head up there."
I decided it would be wise to accopany the brothers, just keep them out of any trouble. We decided on heading up to the old man's house against the two larger brothers' wishes. When we arrived the venerable figure went into his hut, a small stone building with a thatched hut. As we were about to leave, he came out, bearing gar lic and a cross. I've always hated the smell of garlic but I supposed I would have to put up with it. The last thing I saw was him looking at me as we left with a strange expression. Later, I idenitfied it as fear.
By the time we had gotten the guns and were approaching the grave yard, Collin had eaten the garlic and the cross had been shoved in a backpack. We walked along the dew covered grass northward bordering on the forest. Suddenly, quiet descended and there was a movement on the woods. A swift silver shape ran through the trees and three shots were fired. Our maurader, a large wolf , lay dead, and Patrick nursed a wounded hand. The other two brothers were scared for the first time, as no natural anim al would have come that close to three men.
"That had to have been it." a now quite sober Collin whispered, a ltough it seemed more like a prayer than a statement.
"It's probably just a mad wolf." retorted a youger brother, just as lacking in conviction, and probaly more so in common sense.
"One of his servants."
"But how does he know where we are?". That put an quick end to t he converstion.
for if his servant could attack us then worse could happen. I attempted to get them to go back, for no good could come of them wandering around g raveyard. It was to no avail, for they had Irish blood back a thousand years, and even on the Old Folk coul d not drive them from their homes.
When we got to the graveyard, we found nothing abnormal and were all anxious to leave. Then someone entered from the south gate. Now all former courage had left my companions as they fled into the northern woods. I was getting uncomfort able as I looked at the trees. The brothers shouldn't have come here. Finally, the youn gest, named William, decided to see if the everything was safe. He came back shaken up, and not just from going the graveyard.
"I think you had better come look." We headed east into a small clearing. I was getting very uncomfortable. In the center of the clearing sat a wodoen coffin. It was ancient and decorated with many jewels, mostly dark colors. It had deep rust colored stains in various places. The three went through various plots of openi ng or destoying. Finally they decided to open it, and if nothing lay inside, it would bur n. The vampire hunters slowly opened the coffin, guns pointed forward. Death cam from behind.
In a detached state I watched chaos unfold. The creature had killed William with his first attack , and Collin soon followed. Patrick had his cross out and had begun chanting. The cross flew into the woods after the nostefearu had attempted to grab it, quite painfully. Then it was over.
I walked back into the clearing, surveying the damage. Three bodies lay in motionless heaps,all blood gone, taken from opened juglulars. The coffin lay intact. I knew what I had to do.
I arrived at the house of the old man. As I crossed through the front door, I took in the sparse furnishings. A cross hung at one end and behind me an ancient shield, polished and reflective. The old man sat in his seat. He looked ready to ask abo ut the boys, but then thought better of it. "Evil walks abroad this night."
"Indeed."
As I answered I saw his eyes glance behind my shoulder and widen in surprise. I smiled.
The next day the old man was found dead in his cabin, killed in a simliar manner to the other murders. All I had left to show was a prominent burn mark on my right hand, curiously resembling a cross.