Copyright by Nocturnal Reflections 1994
Samhain.
His heart pounding with excitement, seventeen year old Richard Gordon watched the baleful
glow of the moon as it filtered through his bedroom window. How he had planned for this
night! Turning to face his full length antique mirror, he studied his reflection. Black
leather riding boots, black velvet breeches, white silk shirt, black sash at his waist
which held the long, sharp rapier at his side, it's gleaming sheath made of engraved,
polished silver. Perfect, he thought, as he tied his shoulder length sandy blond hair back
in a plain black ribbon. He looked as if he had just stepped out of a bygone century.
11:37 p.m., time to go. It was only a short walk to the cemetary but he wanted to be there
by midnight. He stuffed one last object, a half full bottle of vintage red wine, into his
carry bag and headed down the stairs. The phone's ringing stopped him half way down,
cursing, he ran back up, grabbing the receiver.
"Yeah," Richard panted.
"Hi, it's me. We're just about ready and, well, I thought I'd give you one more
chance to join us -"
"Look Vicky, we've been over this already. I'm not going to the Halloween party with
you and the gang. And I don't know how you can go, not after we planned to go to the
graveyard. You know how much it means to me!" Richard said sharply.
There was a long pause on the line.
"No, Richard, *she* means a lot to you! That's why you're really going out there,
it's because of her, isn't it? Vicky asked, her voice rising.
"Oh come on, you know we always go to the graveyard on Samhain, just you and me. We
can go to parties anytime," Richard argued.
"Please don't go Richard, I'm worried about you. You've become obsessed with death,
you hardly even want to see me anymore. All you want to do is be alone, or be with her.
You shouldn't go out there without us, you-" Vicky begged.
"Just watch me," Richard snarled, hanging up.
Walking through the refreshing cool of the night air, he felt a pang of guilt at how he
had treated Vicky. He'd met her three years ago, when his family had first moved to
Birmingham, England. They used to get on great but lately, well, she'd been treating him
like they were married or something. Enough thinking about Vicky, he'd straighten it all
out later, tomorrow.
Finding it warmer out than he had thought, Richard un-buttoned his black top coat,
eighteenth century design, of course. He loved old stuff and picked up antiques and old
clothes when he could afford them. Working in an Occult shop after school gave him lots of
spending money and time to study Black Magic avidly. Around his throat he wore a black and
silver inverted Pentagram with pride.
Reaching the tall iron cemetary gates and high stone walls, Richard checked for any signs
of a care-taker, no one was around, as he had expected. It was usually deserted late at
night, especially on the Eve of the Dead. Further down the stone wall there was a cluster
of trees, he used their low hanging branches to help him scale the wall, like he always
did...
Safely inside the cemetary Richard took a drink of wine, listening. He loved the sounds
and smells of the night. Replacing the wine in his bag he started towards the centre of
the graveyard. Where she waited. The moon was almost full making it easy to see, almost
like daylight. All around him he heard crickets and the sound of his own footsteps
pounding the damp earth. He smiled, enjoying this quiet solitude, just him and the night.
Graveyards had never held any fear for Richard, he often prowled them alone, late at
night, when his parents thought he was asleep. He would lay down upon the graves of the
dead, sometimes for hours at a time. He thought about death, life after death, ghosts,
spells of necromancy, living forever. He hoped the dead would make themselves known to
him, tell him their secrets. Sometimes he wanted to be dead, to join them on the other
side, just to know, to find out at last what awaited him there.
As he neared his favorite spot his pulse quickened, how he loved this place! The beautiful
old white tomb, the crumbling monuments, the lovely weather worn statues, all surrounded
by trees and ringed with large marble-like stones. Drinking in all the beauty around him,
he reached down and ran his fingers over the familiar name on the tomb.
ELIZABETH HENLEY
Beloved Daughter of Edward and Nora Henley
1797 - 1818
Richard took out several large black candles from his bag, lit them and set them out
respectfully around the grave. He sat on top of the tomb and took a long swig of wine. He
knew Vicky was right, Elizabeth Henley was his true love, had been for years. He had
fallen for Elizabeth the first time his new friends had shown him this cemetary, shortly
after his move to Birmingham.
At the head of the tomb stood a statue of Elizabeth, she was breathtaking, flawless in her
beauty. Soft features smiled down at him from a sensuous face. She stood twirling, as if
dancing, her long gown flowing out around her, masses of hair tumbled down her back - she
looked so very happy, so full of life!
Sighing deeply, he stretched out on her tomb looking up at the endless, star filled sky.
He could feel her presence near him, as if she lay there by his side. If only it was
possible for her to be here with him now...leaning up on one elbow he drank the final
draught of wine, some spilling from his lips, splashing onto the ivory tomb like bloody
tears. Using one finger, Richard drew a heart with the red liquid, then added `R & E'
inside it.
He leaned down closer to the tomb and whispered, "I wish there was a way that we
could be together Elizabeth...I would do anything to make it so...I would sell my soul,
and gladly!"
A cold chill ran up his spine and he turned, looking behind him. He could feel someone
watching him, all around him the night had become much too quiet.
,br> "Is anyone there?"
Nothing. Not one ghost. What had he expected? Elizabeth to walk out of the shadows to join
him? Now he was really being silly, he thought, shaking his head. "Got to get a grip
on yourself Richard" he mumbled to himself, relaxing once again...
The loud grating sound took Richard completely by suprise, he flew off the tomb and ducked
down, turning towards the noise. He wasn't alone, someone else was in the cemetary! He
quickly put out the candles he had burning and quietly packed up his stuff. Again he heard
it, that awful sound, like stone grating against stone - but this time it was followed by
a heavy thud. The noise was coming from the very centre of the cemetary where the oldest,
long forgotten crypts were. Richard found himself thinking of his friends, maybe they had
come to join him after all. This was exactly the kind of joke they would play on
him...well, we'll just see who scares who, he thought. Drawing his rapier, he creeped
silently into the night.
He walked on and on, searching the darknes on every side of him but in vain. And again,
there was the feeling of being watched. Something began to warn him to turn back but he
wouldn't. Not until he knew who was in the graveyard with him.
The oldest section of the cemetary was poorly cared for, it had become extremely wild and
overgrown with greenery. He had been here only once before with his friends, they had not
stayed for long as the atmosphere was far from inviting. Up ahead of him, Richard noticed
something unusual - the large stone cover from one of the tombs lay on the ground, just
ahead of him. He hadn't noticed that on his last visit, all the tombs had been sealed.
Taking a small flashlight out of his bag he went closer, aiming the beam of light down
into the grave. No rotten remains greeted his eyes, but...stairs? A hidden crypt! Richard
looked closely at the stone lid. Could this have something to do with the sound he had
heard? It must weigh a ton, no one could move it. At least no one human. Fear washed over
him and he wished he were far away from here, back home where it was safe and warm...but
his legs wer already guiding him slowly down the steps to whatever awaited him below.
Reaching the bottom, Richard found himself standing in a vast chamber, the walls and
ceiling were phosphorescent, bathing the cavern in an eerie glow. In the centre of the
cavern on a dais was a solitary tomb of black reflective stone. It seemed a wave of
dizziness came over him as he gazed upon it and he found himself leaning against the wall
in order to stand. Something brushed against him cheek and he jumped back in suprise. Just
a old torch, fixed into the wall. Looking around he saw that there were several more about
the crypt. Using his lighter he lit them all, taking comfort from the crackling warmth of
the flame and the added light. He edged closer to the tomb, his boots making sharp
clicking sounds as he climbed the dark steps. When he stood at the top and looked down at
the ebony tomb he knew it had to have been made for someone important. It's lid was
covered with deep grooved designs and precious multi-colored gems were embedded right into
the rock. In the centre of the tomb was a strange sigil - a black serpent coiled around a
white lion. Above the two beasts loomed a red dragon's head the open mouth revealing
jagged, razor sharp fangs.
As if his hand had a mind of it's own, it reach down, towards the dragon...the stone felt
cool to his touch but he felt something else as well. An electric current was pulling him
closer, he felt weak and so sleepy. The rapier slid from his other hand, clattering down
the steps.
The massive lid swung open with such speed that Richard didn't even have time to be
afraid. When he started to realize what had happened he found he couldn't move, could
hardly breathe, until he heard movement behind him. His trance broken he ran for the
stairs, running instead right into the arms of a nightmare...
A tall, very thin, skeletal form stood in his way. Bones jutted through it's pale lifeless
skin, clothes hung in tatters from it's limbs. His only exit blocked by the thing, Richard
backed into the far corner, arms stretched out protectively in front of him, to ward it
off, keep it away from him.
He heard the ripping of cloth before he even realized that the creature had moved - pain
like fire coursed down his chest as sharp talons tore through fabric and flesh. Arms like
steel crushed his ribs so hard, leaving him gasping for air. He felt the monster's razor
edged fangs sink deeply into him, heard it gorging on his blood. His mind was numb with
shock, he felt tired, he just wanted to slip into oblivion away from this horror. He was
dying. This realization sent his body into action, pushing and kicking at the creature
causing both of them to fall to the floor, their embrace broken as they fell.
Richard crawled blindly, trying to escape...the steps...if he could just make it out of
the crypt...outside he might be able to get away. Behind him a deep growl turned into a
cruel laugh. He remembered dropping his rapier earlier...if he could reach it perhaps he
had a chance but where was his weapon...?
He turned to see the thing standing over him, saw his own blood dripping from its mouth as
it grinned wickedly at him. It lunged at him pinning him against the cold stairs, an icy
hand grabbed his hair, yanking his head back viciously, exposing his throat. The last
thing he saw was the creature's eyes, horrible dead eyes, like a sharks. Then the fanged
teeth plunged into his neck...and he was sinking in a black ocean of blood, the sound of
his own heart drowning him, dragging him down into the depths.
The first thing Richard thought of upon awakening was the creature. Where was it? But he
could hardly move, could hardly keep his eyes open. He moved one hand and felt a cool
surface, through his distorted vision he could see walls to either side of him...then he
knew. He was inside the tomb! And someone was approaching, footsteps coming nearer...
A dark haired, handsome young man with gleaming white skin stood looking down at him, he
was dressed in rags and covered with blood stains. It was the same creature that had
attacked him, it had grown young and strong from his blood. The man's silvery eyes
glowered at him, his smile revealing the sharp fangs.
"Listen carefully, for you must tell this tale to the next one, to your victim. I am
Lord Arthur Gray, I was drawn here by death's call and attacked as you were, over a
century ago. I hear your thoughts. Yes, it was I who watched you, called you here and yes,
I am a Vampyre as now so are you. The blood of Baron Esteban Kane runs through our veins.
He was a Magus of the Black Arts, it was he who started this Vampyre line. He craved
eternal life so he courted death. Death granted his desire but at a price. We must feed on
the blood and souls of the living, it is how we survive" spoke the Vampyre, his voice
low and musical.
Richard tried to say something, to sit up, but he was much too weak.
With a shake of his head the Vampyre continued "You must wait as we all waited until
your powers grow strong, then you will be able to summon a victim to feed on and take your
place."
No, pleaded Richard silently, bring me a victim now, feed me, don't leave me here...but
the Vampyre only looked down at him sadly, "I can not help you young one, each of us
must call his own victim. You are strong, it will not be a long wait. You see, you must
come to know and love death in order to truly appreciate the gift of life eternal. But you
will come to understand. I must go now. Goodbye." finished the Vampyre.
The lid swung shut leaving Richard in darkness. Please no, let it be just a dream he
thought. He couldn't really be here, couldn't really be a ghastly dead shrivelled thing,
trapped in a tomb...deep inside him a voiceless scream began to build, he had to get out,
to escape somehow!
Then suddenly, he could see. Glimpses of the night outside came to him. He was floating
free in the graveyard, looking down from the night sky. He saw the Vampyre who had made
him, watched him seal the crypt door. The Vampyre was singing and whistling to himself,
enjoying his freedom, Richard lost sight of him as he danced off into the night. Thoughts
and voices came to him, from people close by in their houses. He saw one face coming
closer, getting clearer, felt warmth touch him. Elizabeth. His Elizabeth! Then she was
beside him, smiling, holding him lovingly.
Elizabeth told him that he would be alright, he had kept her company in her darkness and
she would be here for him. She would help him, teach him what she knew. His body would
rest in the grave while his soul roamed the night, learning of the hunt, of death and of
life. He would grow stronger as time passed and then an eternity would be his.
Inside the tomb Richard smiled and slowly crossed his arms over his chest. Then he and
Elizabeth were laughing and dancing around the graves together, their spirits united at
last. And Richard was finally free. Forever.
This Story has been on since 27th of Jan. 1996, and has been visited by 270 people the
last 3 months.