After the Fall (12 page)

“Here we are,” he said. 

The building was well-designed and decorated, but it wasn’t very large and only one story in height. Like everything else in this place, it was only the foyer to the real underground structure. We entered the double doors and walked through another set before heading down the stairs. Another set of double doors was at the bottom of the stairs. This place was not just a temple; it was also a fortification, a last line of defense against an invasion.

All this paranoia, however necessary, surpassed even my own. I wondered if they were descended from a doomsday cult. I was about to find out.

The crowd of devout followers tried to crush us as soon as we entered the main worship hall, a spacious chamber lined with several rows of pews arranged in a quarter circle around the altar. The room itself was shaped like an amphitheater, with the ends of the hall coming to a point at the altar. Behind it was a magnificent rendition of our Savior, the Impaled Man on the Cross. I felt I exercised great restraint at suppressing a chuckle. Here we are, in the twenty-second century, still worshipping a dead guy pinned to a torture device. I suppose my views may be abrasive, but I have lived long enough to see the many religions that worship the one True God (or Goddess) and you might say I am a little jaded.

Burly ushers held the adoring parishioners at bay and led us to our seats on the very front row. A din of murmurs and whispers spread through the place seemingly at the speed of light. I felt caged, trapped. All the smiling faces became decoys and their whispers conspiratorial words against me. And still I stayed, knowing that gaining their adoration would secure an endless supply of blood that could be obtained on demand. I would have enough to drink until I was full and could take no more. Such a happy time hasn’t come by since the days of the Fall. Yes, that was why I did it. It was purely out of selfish, greedy desire that I stayed, defended, and now deceived these good people. Had I been less starved and more hopeful, I would have left long ago.

The minister welcomed us. He gave me an effusive handshake and lavished almost a full minute of attention on us before returning to the rest of his flock. I wondered if he would have been as pleasant had he known what his daughter was doing just hours before. Speaking of his daughter, Jessamine and Sharon were sliding into our pew, with a few people between us. Jessamine gave me a look and a smile that told me she remembered every bit of what happened between us. I took an uneasy breath and smiled back before turning to the front.

When the minister took to the altar, all the noise died at once. An organ began to play and the congregation was on their feet at once. They began to sing a hymn in unison while I looked around in uncomfortable silence.

“Good morning, my brothers and sisters.”

“Good morning,” replied the congregation.

“It is indeed a good morning here in this house of worship, in this house of
GOD
. The gates are clear and our men can once again go out to find our daily food. Although we mourn our brothers we lost in the recent onslaught, we know God reached out with His mighty hand and delivered them from the demons to take them home.

“All of this we owe to one person in particular. Since his arrival, he has done nothing but leave a trail of good deeds. He is a testament to God’s will and we know he is on our side. Many of you may have seen him or witnessed his incredible acts that once saved Alaric’s son, Matthias, and recently saved the entire town from certain destruction. Mordecai, stand up so the people can see you.”

I stood up and turned to the back of the room, holding my arms out to my sides. I drank their attention as eagerly as I would drink their blood later. Fame was proving to be as exhilarating of a drug as blood.

“Mordecai, would you like to say a few words to the congregation?”

Just like that, the rush was over. I was now put on the spot. It would look bad to refuse. I wanted nothing more than to tear the minister’s head off and drink his arterial spurt like a water fountain. However, I realized that it would not be the best course of action. I may not find as much of a friend in Alaric after that, so I smiled at the minister and walked up to the altar.

All the eyes were centered on me. A few people coughed or cleared their throats, but the crowd remained quiet. Public speaking was not my favorite thing. Send me over the wall to fight a hundred zombies? No problem, I’ve got you covered. Speak to a crowd of a few hundred? You’ll get to see whether a vampire can sweat.

“It’s a cold, hard world out there. I know because I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I’ve walked many roads and fought many battles to get here. Yet none of it compares to the battlefield in our hearts. The greatest battle in this world is the one for our soul. It’s being fought inside every one of us, all the time. This is a time of tribulation for the world. God is testing us to see whether we are truly worthy of his glory. The question you must ask yourself is, am I? If the answer is no, then you now have to ask, what do I need to do to become worthy?

“And just because you believe you’ve been saved, don’t think for a moment that it is over. ‘To those whom much is given, much will be expected of them.’ God has given you grace, but it is for a purpose—to help others. That is the only reason we are on this Earth is to help others. Find someone right now who needs that help, that charity, and give it to them.”

The congregation sat quietly for a moment before breaking into applause. I smiled and drank in this second wave of devotion. After all, I worked for it. Why shouldn’t I enjoy it?

Jessamine was looking at me with those eyes that said she wanted to make me hers. I was high on unlife and not opposed to the idea, especially if she brought a friend or maybe two. I imagined this is what rock stars felt onstage.

“Yes, thank you. Thank you, brother. You may take your seat if you wish.” I obliged the minister and went back. Rhiannon gave me another withering look as I took a seat on the other side of her husband. My thoughts drifted to Matthias and I wondered where he was.

The minister went on to give his service, but his homily simply did not reach the audience like mine did. Something was missing from it. Maybe he wasn’t that inspired today, or perhaps he was just a little put off from being eclipsed. I didn’t mean to do it; it just came out of me. Some would say that I was possessed by the Spirit, which could be amusing or frightening, depending on how I see it. He concluded his service and led the congregation in a final song. When it was finished, people started to head for the exit and I meant to do the same.

“Wait just a minute, brother,” said the minister. I wish he didn’t use that word. We are far from siblings. “Come with me.”

He led us to a room out back. It was very no-frills, with a plain table and some chairs gathered around. The only decoration on the wall was a cross that was little more than two pieces of wood nailed together.

“This is one of our Bible study halls,” he said to us. I’m sure Alaric had already seen this, but he didn’t seem very pleased to be here. He looked like the type who skipped Bible study sessions to go out hunting or get into battle with the undead marauders in the countryside. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his religion, but he preferred to act out the battle against evil rather than read about it.

“My brother Mordecai,” he said.
Ugh
. “I want you to meet the brightest young minds of our group. These are the future leaders of Jericho.”

They started filing into the room. One by one, they took their seats in an orderly, disciplined manner that told me they’d been drilled to do this. They laid their Bibles before them and looked at me with expectation and awe.

“I have told our youths about you and they have come of their own volition to offer you a meal.”

Satiety.

That word had become a pipe dream in the last few years. Going from city to city, I searched for scant numbers of humans who were as malnourished as I was. They had so little blood to give. Every time I just meant to take only a little out of them, just enough to get by. I meant to do it, but I never did. Starvation took my willpower.

Once I took too much that I knew they would not survive, I went ahead and took the rest. I mean, if they’re going to die anyway, why waste it? Their blood was so thin and lean, I could almost taste their despair. Oh, how that one woman howled when she woke to find her husband dead. It tore me apart on the inside, but I couldn’t help myself. If I starved enough, I could go feral and kill the whole lot of them, coming to my senses only when it was too late.

Those days were behind me now, as distant of a memory as the pleasure of satiety had once been. The minister, convinced of my importance, ensnared a group of his most devout to feed my hunger. It would be perfectly natural to feel doubts, to question—I know I would have—but none of them raised a single objection.

After introducing them, the minister excused himself to go tend to his flock. The group of youths lined up and bared their sleeves to be drained of a pint each. Young, robust men and blossoming women came to me, not only offering their blood but also happy to do it.

“Can you just drink straight from me?” asked the freckled blonde about four people down. “So I can receive the blessing?” Soon everyone was lining up for me to bite their arms and take the blood directly. If they believed feeding me was their ticket to salvation, who was I to argue with that? Not I, for I drank until I’d had my fill.

Now that I was fed, other appetites began to awaken with renewed force. I’m not talking about a hunger for knowledge, unless it involved learning the bodies of these pure, chaste ladies, mapping every inch of their skin, preferably with my tongue. I felt the weight of all those years bearing on me, aching to be released.

The pretty little young thing with the freckles would become mine the instant I was able to get her alone. Unlike Jessamine and Sharon, she was uninitiated to the pleasures of the flesh. And no, I didn’t have my way with her, as much as I wanted to.  

Something from the old days began to return to me with the new influx of blood. You can call it charm or pizzazz. I just call it a way to get my food to come without putting up a struggle.

When the group left, she lingered behind. Another girl asked her to come and she said she would be right there. Perhaps she wanted to be snared, so I gave her what she wanted.

“Why, you look as radiant as sunshine,” I said. “What is your name? Are you sure you’re not an angel as well?” I know, it’s a pathetic attempt, a far cry from the poetry of the Victorian times, but my charm made it sound like the words of the greatest poet, and my voice sweeter than honey.

She giggled a little and looked away with an embarrassed smile. She fidgeted and bit down on her tongue. When she smiled, it stuck out just a little bit. I knew I had her.

“No, I’m not an angel. I could never be so vain to think so. And my name is Marie.”

“It’s not vanity in this case, Marie. It just means you know what you are,” I said to her.

“Oh, stop!” she replied, giving me a playful shove with her arm. Her face immediately changed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t really mean that.”

“Sure you did.”

“Please forgive me.” Now she seemed distressed.

“I’ll forgive you.” A smile lit up my face. “But on one condition.”

“Whatever you say. I never meant to offend.”

“A kiss. Just a kiss.”

She seemed a little unsure, but it was a way to clear her conscience. Besides, she would do anything for this angel. I was a creature of love, and I merely wanted to give it away.

Her eyes closed and she puckered those uninstructed lips like she expected a familial kiss. She really was a blank slate. I began to caress them and slowly she opened her mouth. Our tongues did their dance. At first, she shrunk away, but my magnetism was now turned up to the highest. After a few seconds, she latched on to me with gusto. Marie walked out of that church with a very confused sense of religion.

Going on a Trip

I returned home full of blood and drunk on life. Day time was upon me and I felt the call to slumber. Those gathered outside the temple felt nothing but a gust of wind when I blew past them. I returned to the house and found myself in the middle of another soap opera. Matthias had returned, but it wasn’t the joyful return of the prodigal son. 

“Son! Where have you been?” his father clamored.

“Out. I’ve just been out. Don’t worry about it.” I knew where
out
was. He was muddy and smelled like the woods—the dirt, the blood and entrails of a hapless fawn or whatever other game that had the misfortune to cross his path, only he came home empty-handed. I suppose he had to have eaten something for as long as he was gone, but he looked ragged and gaunt, like he’d been running for days with little or no rest.

“You’ve been out hunting outside, haven’t you?”

“So what if I have?”

“How can you be so calm about this? All this time you’ve been gone; people have been searching for you. And that’s all you can say, ‘so what?’”

“I know how to survive out there.”

“Just like when Mordecai had to save you?”

“That was just one time…”

“Rhiannon and I have been worried sick. She’s barely eaten a thing and hasn’t caught a good night’s sleep.”