Eternal Night

(II) Chapter 24: Genesis of the Vampire

Fortunately, there was a break in the storm that lasted just long enough for Frankie and Vlad to dash across the estate and back to house before the heavy rains set in once more. A little damp but by no means soaked through, the pair proceeded to make their way through the conservatory using the garden entrance with Vladislaus leading the way. Frankie was grateful that their journey to the library remained undisturbed, and from the looks of things, the destination itself appeared empty.

Dracula paused for just a moment, eyes quickly scanning the space as if to ensure they were alone before making his way over to the computer where he could access the catalog.

"Have you ever heard of the Fabulae Diablo?" he asked her, the first words he had uttered since they had left the basement of the old house.

Frankie looked over at him with a peculiar expression, immediately translating the Latin words in her head.

"The Story of the Devil?" she clarified. "Are you referring to something specific or are we talking about the general fall of Lucifer?"

"Something a bit more specific than canonical Christian mythology," Vlad explained, now scrolling through the results page on the monitor before him, clearly in search of a particular text. "In the 16th century, an Italian monk, known only as Brother Matthew, began to lose his mind rather inexplicably – ramblings, speaking in tongues, writing bizarre and – at the time – what was believed to be unintelligible text over walls, on the pages of the scriptures. Anything he could get his hands on. The story goes that he had been possessed by a demon – perhaps even the mother of all demons," and he sent her a meaningful look.

"You mean Lilith."

He nodded once, returning his attention to the screen for just a moment as he continued.

"His brothers assumed him mad and locked him away. They found him dead in his cell the following morning. No one had entered or left the compartment and according to the monastery's records, they wrote off his passing as a suicide."

"By what means?"

"Loss of blood."

"You mean he slit his wrists?" she asked, watching as he materialized to the second floor of the library to retrieve a book. "How on earth did he acquire an instrument sharp enough if he was being confined?"

"I never said they had confirmed it was suicide."

The way he spoke the words sent a shiver down her spine.

"The assumption was that he had snuck in something sharp when he had been displaced, though what makes it all the more curious is no such object was never discovered," he continued. "And he couldn't have used his nails because they had been bitten down to the nub."

"So what was it?"

"They discovered mass amounts of text and pictographs that had been carved into his skin, over every inch of his body – even the hard to reach places, like the back. And the direction of the writing was such that suggested someone else had done the carving."

"What?"

"And his blood had been used to write even more all over the walls, the floor... even the ceiling – which was well over 10 feet high, and the man himself was reputably short."

Francesca muttered an oath in her mother tongue.

"The brothers of the monastery were unable to translate the text, but miraculously someone had had the foresight to at least copy what appeared on Brother Matthew's flesh before his remains were cremated and the room sanitized." Vlad handed her the tome he had retrieved before heading into the family archives, motioning with his finger for her to follow. She did so, studying the pages before her as they went along.