Estimated reading time — 35 minutes

Authors Note:

This story serves as the final chapter of the Northridge saga including: Village in the Shadows, Return to Northridge, The Awoken Dead and Traveler in the Dark. While I feel this story functions as a stand alone story, to get the full experience I do recommend reading the other stories first. Thank you so much for your continued support. Now please enjoy.

St. Catherine’s cathedral stands like a titanic monument in the waning afternoon light. Centered in a large forest just outside of Vatican City it dwarfs the surrounding trees with its grandeur. Made of ancient slate gray brick it is one of Rome’s oldest churches. Complete with full living quarters and a grand library with centuries of ancient knowledge within it’s isles. Though overshadowed by the grander cathedrals in the capital, it stands as an incredible achievement of beauty and architecture. We view it now on it’s final day for in a matter of hours it will be the sight of one of the most horrific struggles between good and evil ever witnessed.

However, we are getting ahead of ourselves. Currently it is at peace and Father Vincent gives the afternoon mass. The massive nature of the nave is in complete contrast to the minor congregation in its midst. The church was designed to sit over 1000 and yet less than a hundred are spread among it’s pews. None of this bothers Father Vincent however. He delivers his sermon with volume and passion as if he was delivering to a packed house.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we live in times of great uncertainty. We have dealt with plagues, wars, economic uncertainty and so much more. There are days where it feels as though the devil walks among us. In these times it can be very easy to turn upon our fellow man and forsake the love and friendships we have built. This is something that we can not allow to happen. The devil we must stand against does not dwell within the fire pits but within our own hearts. The only way to combat these threats is with love and everlasting faith in our lord.” Vincent bellows.

His words echo through the walls but unfortunately they meet very few ears. Most of the congregation is tuned out with thoughts of dinner or the upcoming football game invading their minds. Vincent is about to go on when a loud blast of video game sound effects booms through the building. Several of the older members of the congregation scowl and begin looking in the crowd for the culprit. The father doesn’t need his extensive knowledge of the church’s acoustics to know that the culprit is sitting behind him, likely turning a deep shade of red. His impatient altar boy Jocob has caused a disturbance however it seemed to have refocused his flock for the time being. With everyone finally paying attention he decides to wrap things up.

“Well on that note I think we should move on. We have no new announcements however I would kindly ask that you all pray for the recently vanished in our community.” A genuine wave of sorrow rushes over the crowd. In recent months there have been many disappearances across the country. There seemed to be no lead or patterns to the disappearances. People of all ages and genders seemed to vanish without a trace. A tearful sniffle is heard from Vincent’s right and again he does not need to look to know its owner. “Go in peace and bring light to the world.”

The congregation bellows an amen and begins clearing the building in record time. Vincent turns to face Sister Marion, the church’s only devoted nun. Her eyes glisten with tears and she is holding a tissue. “I am truly sorry if my sermon upset you my dear.” Vincent says with genuine sorrow. Marion wipes her eyes and shakes her head. “Oh no Father it is fine. I thank you for asking for prayers for the missing. Lord knows we need them now more than ever.” Vincent sighs “Is there any news on your mother?” Marion shakes her head. “None, not a whisper. Who would take a 75 year old woman from her home? What in the world would they have to gain?” Vincent gives Marion a hug. “Have faith, my child, all will be well.” He feels odd calling a woman 10 years his senior a child but she doesn’t seem to mind. “Thank you father. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.” She says with fresh tears surfacing.

From behind the pair the sound of tip toeing footsteps echoes. Vincent smiles. “Leaving early today, Jacob?” The boy freezes in his tracks. “Oh yes I have a report due first thing tomorrow. I can’t put it off any longer I’m afraid.” Jacob says nervously. Vincent crosses his arms. “I would believe you, if it wasn’t July.” The boy lowers his head in shame at being caught in a lie.

Vincent shakes his head. “Jacob, your parents had you assigned here to help with your lack of discipline and maturity. In the months since you have made little progress. I know you are bright enough but you need to focus.” Vincent’s words only succeeded in producing a scowl out of Jacob “So that is how the world works huh? Once you turn 10 the fun ends and you are just expected to grow up. It’s not that I resent the idea of maturing but I don’t want to lose myself either. Do you know what I mean?” Jacob asks with genuine sincerity. Vincent merely laughs. “More than you know my boy. Now for your incident during church I think helping out Father Dante in the library for the rest of the day should do the trick.”

Jacob scowls but nods his head. The pair head upstairs to the grand library. As per the norm they find it completely deserted apart from its head librarian Father Dante. He is a kind but reclusive old man. He was once the pastor of the church but has been retired for many years. He spends almost all of his time between the many shelves of the library browsing their layers of knowledge. He is quietly going over a scroll when the two arrive. “Ah, young masters, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Dante says with a wide grin. “Oh I just thought our altarboy here could use a little time doing some character building.” Vincent replies. Dante claps Jacob on the back. “Say no more my man. OK lad perhaps you could help me return my books and I will teach you the proper way we catalog them. None of this Dewey Decimal system you kids are on about.” Jacob looks back to see if they are being serious and Vincent signals him to follow the old man. Jacob shrugs and follows.

With the boy set about his work Vincent goes to his office to get some of his own done. The father clearly loses himself to his notes for it is nearly sunset when there is a knock at his door from Marion. “Father, have you forgotten about hosting the AA meeting?” She asks timidly. Vincent shakes his head. “Oh my goodness, yes I am so sorry. I’ll be right down.” Marion shrugs. “Don’t worry about it, no one showed up this week.” Vincent looks worried. “That’s his third week in a row not showing. I’m going to have to talk with him. I’m heading into town.” Vincent says while grabbing his keys. “May God be with you.” Marion says sarcastically. Vincent looks back and smiles. “Isn’t he always?”

Vincent drives through the winding woods slowly and carefully. The dying light casts great shadows across the dirt road. An unseasonable chill runs through him. The forest has always given him the creeps and childhood fears die the hardest. He hates driving here at night and tonight especially he feels as though he is being watched. The last of the sunlight sets behind the hills casting a shadow over the forest. Perhaps it was a trick of the light but he almost could swear he saw movement in between the trees. In his mind he sees a person crawling up from inside the dirt itself. He tries to get a closer look but suddenly a loud blast from a transport truck’s horn rips through him. He looks back to the road to find that he has been drifting to the left and is heading towards a set of bright headlights. He rips the wheel to the right, missing the truck by mere feet. He pants loudly and scowls at himself. His child-like fear almost made him forget the all too real dangers of the world. He turns his focus back on the road driving all the more carefully.

Ten minutes later he pulls into the parking lot of the Blackstone, the local tavern. It caters to the low lives and the down and outs of the community. Normally the father would never be caught dead here but tonight he was on a mission and he would not be swayed from it. He walks in as all of his senses are assaulted at once. The room is dreadfully dim, the scent of cigarette haunts every corner and loud American rock music blasts from the speakers.

The bartender looks up and his eyes widen in shock. “Father, we don’t normally see you here.” Vincent merely smiles. “I’m just a shepherd in search of one of his flock.” The bartender’s smile falters and he crocks a thumb to the other side of the bar. Vincent nods and takes a seat next to a large man in a tattered coat. The man is absentmindedly playing with his glass of whiskey.

“You missed the group again Marco.” Vincent says without turning. Marco laughs. “Is it still a group if I’m the only one attending?” Marco asks. “Semantics aside, this is your third absence. Now were you anyone else I wouldn’t care but we both know that you are mandated to attend for your probation. I have covered for you in the past but I am not comfortable lying for you again.” Vincent scolds. Marco grunts and shakes his head. “What’s the point? We have been at this for months and it hasn’t done me a bit of good. Just face it, I’m not capable of change.” Marco says with sorrow creeping in his voice. Vincent smiles at him. “You haven’t touched that drink. That’s something.” Marco shrugs. “Yeah but I have already taken down three of his brothers before you got here.” Vincent places his head into his hand. “Jesus wept.” He says in despair.

Through the smell of whiskey and smoke an even more powerful stench makes its way towards the two men. A sickly sweet smell of perfume attached to a beautiful blonde woman in a red dress slinks across the floor and sits next to Vincent. “Good evening, would either of you fine gentlemen like to give me a drink?” She asks in a sultry voice. Marco shakes his head and downs his drink in one gulp. “Sorry mam I’m fresh out and skint broke, I’m afraid.” Marco says nonchalantly.

The woman scowls. “That’s fine by me. Your friend seems more interesting anyway. I love a man in black. My name is Chiara, handsome, what’s yours?” Vincent shakes his head. “It’s Vincent and maybe you should spend less time looking at my suit and more at my collar.” He replies with a smirk. Chiara seems to almost flinch at the white priest’s collar. Then she smiles and stares deep into Vincent’s eyes. “Oh come on father don’t you want to be bad? Haven’t you ever just wanted to throw it all away and just do what you wanted when you wanted?”

Vincent began to sweat because he had indeed considered that many times. The collar around his neck sometimes felt like a shackle, keeping him from truly enjoying life. He watched the world around him allowing themselves any pleasure they could dream of. He wanted to let loose, he wanted to live life even if it was just a… “Taste.” Chiara says, seemingly pulling the word straight from his mind. “Come with me and I can give you more than just a taste. I can show you pleasures greater than anything in your book. I can show you the world in a way you can’t even imagine. Just come with me.” Chiara whispers and every word is a dark seduction.

Vincent looks into her deep brown eyes and can feel himself getting closer to her. He can not resist the temptation of her lips or her promises. He comes close to her lips when a strong hand closes on his shoulder. “You know father, maybe we could have that meeting after all. Let’s head back to the church and talk it out.” Marco says gently. Vincent snaps back into himself feeling as though he has been woken from a deep sleep. “Yes, let’s go. The night is waning.” Vincent replies. The two men get up and start to leave. “The night has only begun father. Trust me when I say it is going to be a long one.” Chiara says as they walk out. The two men make their way to Vincent’s truck. “Sorry about that father but that lady gave me the creeps.” Marco says while glancing over his shoulder. “Me too.” Vincent agrees. The two get into the truck and drive into the woods unaware of the many eyes watching their progress.

Full darkness has enveloped the land and the forest is an almost unending field of blackness. Vincent wars with his desires to be safe and his desires to be out of the forest. It would seem that even his companion is unnerved by the dense wood. He keeps sneaking looks at his side mirrors. Vincent catches him mid look and Marco smiles. “Sorry father. I can’t shake the feeling that there is someone behind us. I keep expecting to see that woman running behind us.” Vincent nods. “I know how you feel. Have you ever seen her before?” Marco merely shakes his head. “No I’ve never met her but I will say that the name rings a bell. I can’t seem to place it though.”

The truck rolls around a bend and comes across a horrific sight. Slammed into a ditch is a large transport truck. Vincent pulls over and grabs a flashlight. The men get out to take a look. “I saw this truck on my way to find you. I must have missed the accident by mere minutes.” Vincent says with genuine concern in his voice. He shines a light on the truck revealing very long and deep scratch marks in the tires. “He must have hit a branch in the road. Funny, I never saw anything coming down.” Vincent muses. Marco examines the tires closely. “These are premium ties. At the speed he was going he would have had to hit something way stronger than a branch to slice those like that.” Marco explains. Vincent shrugs. “What would be strong enough to do that?” He asks. Marco starts to shake his head but then he freezes. “Probably whatever did that.” Marco says while pointing behind the father. Vincent turns and points his light at where Marco was pointing. Laying in the dirt is the transport driver’s side door. It was ripped clear off its hinges and thrown several feet into the opposite ditch.

Fear, not childlike but genuine fear grips both men. “We need to get to the church.” Marco says while shaking. “No, we should look for the driver. He is likely injured and in need of help.” Vincent refutes. Marco grabs Vincent with both strong hands. “I agree but the best people to do that are the paramedics. So let’s get to the church and call 911. It is the safest move for them and us.” Vincent prepares to argue but he can see the absolute terror in Marco’s eyes. A loud cracking sound echoes from just beyond the trees. That is all the signal both men need to return to the truck and speed off. Vincent checks his rear view mirror and it comes up empty. If either man had bothered to look out the back window directly then they would have seen several figures walking out from the treeline.

The truck pulls into the church parking lot and neither man wastes anytime in rushing through the doors. Inside they find Sister Marion in prayer as well as Jacob and Dante sitting in the pews. “Jacob, what are you still doing here?” Vincent asks in confusion. “I was helping Dante and you never told me I could leave.” Jacob says in annoyment as a whole summer day was stolen from him. “I am so sorry Jacob, I’ll make sure to get you home and apologize to your parents.” Vincent replies. “Father, are you not forgetting the reason we rushed in here?” Marco shouts in disbelief.

“What’s going on?” Marion replies in confusion. “A transport truck crashed just a mile or so out. We need to call the authorities. It might not have been an accident.” Vincent explains as he rushes to the landline phone. He picks it up but there is no dial tone. A strange rush of cold courses through him. “The phone is dead.” Vincent explains. Everyone looks at him in fear and shock. “There have been no storms.” Dante states matter of factly.

A strange and melodic female voice sounds from outside the church. “Oh father, won’t you come out?” Something in that voice sends a collective shiver down their spines. It is a child’s voice but there is something extremely unnerving about its tone. Slowly and almost reluctantly the group makes their way to the front door. Standing in the darkness is a large group of almost 20 people, including the strange woman from the bar. At the center of them sitting on the hood of Vincent’s truck is a little blonde girl. She couldn’t be more than 8 years old with striking blue eyes. She is smiling while gently stroking an antique doll.

Accompanying the group is a horrible stench beyond imagining. Dante and Jacob are forced to plug their noses to try to block out the odor. Vincent steps forward and stands on the edge of the stone steps. “Who calls upon the house of the lord at this hour?” He asks in a calmer tone than he truly feels. The little girl looks up at him then forces her head down as if she does not want to look him in the eye. The others fail to notice the subtle jerk but Dante does not.

“We are humble nomads simply seeking shelter for the night.” The little girl shouts. “Gypsies.” Marion says in disgust. Dante shakes his head. He has dealt with gypsies and these people were definitely not them. He did not know what they were but he knew that he very much wanted to be back in the church. “Where are your parents, little girl?” Vincent inquires. For some strange reason the little girl smiles. It is a twisted and knowing grin. “My parents are long dead. These people are my new family. Now I ask you once again. May we come in?” The girl asks.

“Don’t let her in. Please don’t let her in.” Jacob thinks to himself. There is something not right about this girl. As if she heard him, the little girl turns towards Jacob and flashes him a small grin. “What is your name child?” Vincent asks. The girl grins wider showing all of her teeth that glow in the moonlight. “Gracie.” She responds. “Well young Gracie, the house of the lord is open to all who believe and worship him.” Vincent says as if he is giving a sermon.

The comforting words seem to anger the child. She scowls and shakes her head. “So may we come in?” She asks, talking through her teeth. Vincent shakes his head in confusion. He did not understand what was unclear about his words. Marion begins scanning the crowd in front of her and sees something that fills her with both joy and hope. “Mother!” She shouts. Everyone turns to the crowd and sure enough, standing there still in her bathrobe is Marion’s missing mother. “Mother, what are you doing here? Get over here and let’s go home please.” Marion begs.

The appearance of Marion’s mother kicks Dante’s mind into overdrive. He looks around at the gathered strangers and a horrible realization occurs to him. He looks over at the little girl who is staring at Vincent with a macabre smile on her face. She was simply waiting for the word from Vincent. Suddenly all the small details that had been plaguing his mind snap into place. Marion moves to rush to her mother but Dante puts his arm around her and wrenches her backwards.

All eyes now turn to Dante who steps in front of the others. “No one move another step out of the church. Vincent in the name of God do not invite those fiends inside!” Dante commands with vigor not known to the old man. Vincent shakes his head in confusion. “What do you mean fiends? They are simply travelers.” Dante stares down Gracie who no longer is smiling but scowling at Dante. “Why don’t you show us your true form, demon?” Dante snarls. Gracie shrugs nonchalantly. “I guess there is no need to hide anymore.”

All at once the crowd outside undergoes a change. Their healthy and vibrant skin instantly deteriorates. They are now all a dark gray color with jet black hair. Their bodies all bore different states of decay with some missing flesh along their face and arms. The most startling feature of all is the irisless obsidian eyes. The eyes seem to stare not only at the small group but through them. Vincent feels as though they are peering at secrets not even known to himself. The awful smell from before was now an overpowering stench and now they understand what it was. The horrible odor is decay.

Gracie strides towards the church with a large grin on her face. Protruding from her mouth are two large sabertooth tiger-like incisor fangs. “Well how do we look?” she asks with a giggle. Vincent shudders. “What in God’s name are you?” he asks in fear. Dante steps forward and stares the girl down. “They are not any creature created by God, my boy. They are not welcome here! Now be gone foul beasts! God commands it!”

The creatures recoil as if struck. Gracie pants angrily but then smiles once more. “There is stronger faith here than I thought possible. This is going to be fun.” She says almost dancing with glee. Marion steps forward. “What do you want?” She asks, barely able to keep her words strong. Gracie’s eyes darken. “Revenge. My family was taken from me and tonight you all have been chosen to pay the price. You must all pay for the sins of Mathew.”

The name acts like a dagger to Dante’s mind as another vital puzzle piece slides home. Dante knows this evil before him. The only question remaining was how do you stop unrelenting darkness? “You can not enter here and you know it.” Dante states. Gracie shakes her head. “For now perhaps. However your defenses are only as strong as your faith and will. I already see some weak points.” Gracie glares at Jacob who hides behind Marco. “Mark my words, before the sun rises we will enter that church and each one of you will be a member of our coven. Your final night has begun!” Gracie screams.

Gracie swipes her claw along the hood of Vincent’s truck. The engine explodes, casting large flames into the night. The creatures gather in front of the flames and join hands. They begin swaying back and forth in perfect rhythm. It is as if they are one mind and body. Slowly they begin chanting in unison. “Pentru sangele ne ridicam. Cu sangele pe care il hranim. Prin sangele pe care noi domnim.” Vincent walks to Dante. “Father, do you know what they are saying?” He asks. Dante nods. “The language is Romanian. The rough translation is as follows. For the blood, we rise. With the blood, we feed. By the blood, we reign.”

Mary shakes her head and tears roll from her eyes. “We need to get out of here. We can make a run for it.” Dante turns to face her with fire in his eyes. “No, we will do no such thing. Know this, if you leave the safety of this church then you will face something worse than death.” Dante states boldly. “What is worse than death?” Marco asks. “Come inside with me and I will explain everything. Fear not of them for the moment and they can not harm you. Now follow me.” Dante commands.

Dante storms inside and the others have no choice but to follow. He leads them upstairs to the library and locks them inside. “Dante what is this all about? You clearly know something.” Vincent inquires. Dante looks lost for a moment, as if he is searching for the right words. “In the Bible you will find stories of a fantastical nature. Miracles, magic, even beasts and demons. There are things though that even the church would consider to be pure myth. Until tonight I considered such creatures to be just that, a myth. I no longer have that luxury.” Dante explains solemnly.

“Spit it out already, what are we dealing with?” Marco asks impatiently. “They go by many names. In their homeland they are called the stigori. However the most common term is the vampire.” The room falls silent for a moment in utter shock and disbelief. “That is not possible.” Vincent says, shaking his in disbelief. “We just saw people turn into living corpses in front of our eyes. I think you need to broaden your mind, father.” Marco shouts defiantly. “I’m with him. It’s like Dante says there are crazier ideas than that in the Bible. Why not the living dead?” Jacob points out.

Vincent begins aggressively pacing around the room. “Okay so we are going forward with this theory. Why would they target us? They would have a buffet of people in town or even more so in the cities. So why here? Why the church?” He asks. “She mentioned something about the sins of Mathew. St. Mathew was a tax collector but beyond that I don’t know his sins.” Marion says. Dante shakes his head. “That’s not the Mathew she was referring to.”

Everyone turns to Dante. He lets out a sigh and begins searching a bookshelf. He pulls out an ancient brown leather journal. He takes a deep breath to prepare himself. “Centuries ago there was a young priest named Mathew. He grew up in Northridge, a small village at the base of the Carpathian mountains. The village was plagued by the very creatures outside of our walls. When he was a boy the vampires stole his younger sister Gracie.” A chill goes through the room at the mention of their captors name. No one makes a sound and Dante continues.

“His sister being taken nearly destroyed Mathew but he turned his despair into determination. He vowed to end the scourge of Northridge once and for all. When he became a man he entered the priesthood and traveled to the Vatican to study. He was sent to this church for assignment. It was in these very walls that he met Father Donavan, a fellow believer in the dark forces of the world. He trained the boy to battle the stigori and they eventually traveled back to the village to end the darkness.”

“Clearly he failed.” Marco scoffs. Dante shakes his head. “According to his journal he did succeed. However with Gracie he faced a moral weakness and couldn’t bring himself to finish the job. He incapacitated her seemingly indefinitely however it would seem that she has escaped her bondage and seeks revenge on the church that taught him.”

The room is silent for a moment with everyone in deep contemplation. “What happened to Mathew?” Vincent asks if nothing more than to break the silence. Dante shrugs. “He came back here after he cleansed the village. He left his diary here and after that there is no record of him in the church.” Vincent nods and returns to pacing. “So what do we do now?” Marco asks. “They can not enter here unless we let them. They need an invitation to enter a building. If we simply wait until sunrise they will be forced to go to ground and we can leave.” Dante explains calmly.

“Then they will be back tomorrow.” Jacob says fiercely. Everyone turns to the boy in shock. “If we do nothing then they will just keep coming. Tomorrow they could be at our doors and windows. If they can’t get to us then they will go to our neighbors and they will be unprepared. We didn’t choose this situation but we are here. Whether by forces of light or darkness we were chosen and we can’t just sit and do nothing!” Jacob shouts. Everyone simply stares at the boy but Vincent smiles at him.

“How do we fight these things?” Vincent asks. “You can’t be serious? We are not warriors.” Marion protests. “The kid is right, we can’t sit back and watch. Besides if these things do get in, I want to know how to defend myself.” Marco grunts. Marion shakes her head but decides to keep her thoughts to herself.

Dante surveys the group and nods his head in approval. “Thankfully Mathew left behind clear breakdowns of the beasts, should others wish to continue his work. Though they have many strengths they have several weaknesses as well. Holy symbols of any religion can repel and harm them, however they will only be as strong as the faith of the user. Holy liquids or pieces of the host can kill with enough exposure. Silver is the most effective tool, the purer the better. A wooden stake to the heart can subdue the curse however if removed the beast will rise again as is with Gracie. The most sure fire ways to kill them are sunlight, holy fire and cutting off their heads with a silver blade.” Dante explains.

Marion scoffs. “Oh yes, let me go and raid our stash of silver swords.” She says sarcastically. “I know you are making a joke but we are blessed in that we do have several tools in the church. We have a vat of holy water and tons of pieces of the host in the nave.” Vincent explains. Dante nods his head. “Good, bottle of as much holy water as you can. Grab the pieces of the host and place them at every door and window. It will add extra protection. Also everyone make sure to grab a cross and keep your faith strong. Remember they are looking for weaknesses in all of us.”

“We never have to look too far.” Gracie’s voice cries from the window. The group looks around and in every stained glass window stands a black silhouette. Gracie begins running a claw along the window causing smoke to come from her fingers but it doesn’t seem to deter her. “You truly believe you can stop us? We have brought down entire towns and villages in a single night. Our race has existed since man was still drawing on cave walls. Despite our several weaknesses as you so rudely stated, we still feed and we still survive. The key is to find the weakness in the soul of our victims. Everyone has secrets buried deep within.” Gracie hisses.

Dante understands her meaning and grows afraid. “Clear your minds! They can enter and read your thoughts! Guard your ears for their silver tongues hold compulsion.” He shouts. Everyone shoves their hands over their ears and closes their eyes. The sweet and sinful voice of Gracie booms in Dante’s mind. “Oh you are a wise one but you have no comprehension of the depths of our power. I know you seek knowledge and we can deliver these things to you. Join us and you will have the knowledge born of centuries.” Dante steadies himself. “Begone foul beast. Leave my mind. Leave my soul in peace.” He sends down the mental path. There is a faint sensation of hissing and then Dante’s mind is quiet again.

Marco rocks back and forth as Chiara torments his mind. “You are a failure Marco. Everything important in life has slipped through your grasp. Your friends and family have abandoned you. The town resents you. To them you are nothing more than an unredeemable drunk. We can offer you eternal love and family. Gracie did it for me and she can do the same for you. You love the sweet nectar of the world but we can offer you a drink that is so much sweeter.” Marco shakes his head. “Go away.” He says through tears.

Gracie slams her way into Jacob’s mind. “Jacob, don’t be afraid, not of us. I know what it is you truly fear. You fear the unrelenting march of time. You know your childhood days are dwindling but I am here to tell you that they don’t have to. Why do you have to give up the things that bring you joy? Join us and you can stay young like me forever.” She compels. Jacob opens his eyes and stares out the window to Gracie. “Screw you old woman.” He says defiantly. Gracie laughs. “You have spirit. I can’t wait to take that away from you.” Gracie taunts.

Marion cradles herself as she cries. Her mother speaks horrible things in her mind. “Mary, why won’t you let me in? I am so cold out here in these robes. Why did you put me into that home? That’s where they came to me. They tormented me all night until I was forced to bring them in. They hurt me Mary. All the while I screamed for you but you never came. They hurt me while you and your God did nothing. How could he let such a thing happen to a helpless old woman? How could you follow a man like that? You’ve been a poor daughter but you can make all of that go away. You know what you have to do little Mary. Just say the words and all will be forgiven.”

Marion shakes her head. How could a just god let this happen? She could only come up with one solution. “We are alone.” She says aloud. She walks to the window where her mother floats outside. “Come to me, mother.” She says with open arms. The window breaks open as Mary’s mother bursts into the room. She unsheathes her razor sharp claws and makes a leap at Marion. At the last moment Vincent leaps out and tackles Marion out of the way.

More windows burst open and the vampires pour in like water. They gather in the library and begin advancing on their prey. Dante steps in front of the crowd and brandishes his cross. “Back vile demons. Begone from my sight in the name of God.” Several of the Vampires recoil and skitter backwards like cockroaches. Dante tries to usher everyone backwards to safety but Marion begins fighting him. “No, let me go. I have to get to her. I want my mother!” Marion screeches. “That’s not your mother anymore. She is a demon wearing her skin.” Vincent shouts. “I don’t care!” Marion screams.

Gracie smiles. “Why not let her go? She will be a burden to you all. She wants to come to us so why not let her? Focus on saving yourselves If you can.” She sneers. Vincent shakes his head. “We do not abandon a member of the flock when it becomes lost. We are not beasts like you! He shouts while pushing forward his own cross. The vampires fall back in fear and pain. With the beasts distracted Marion seems to come back into herself. “What’s going on?” She asks in a delirium. “We are getting out of here.” Marco says strongly. Everyone backs out of the door as the two priest’s ward off the demons. Vincent begins closing the door and the last thing he sees before shutting it tight is Gracie’s furious face mid snarl.

“You can run but I promise we will find you.” She calls in an almost song-like tone. The group runs down the stairs and darts down hallways. Door after door appears before them but none feel secure. The house of the lord is defiled and nowhere is safe. On the floor above them the sound of the door being shredded can be heard. Soon after the sound of thundering footsteps echoes like the sound of rabid dogs. They could hear their snarls and panting. They would be upon them soon.

To Marion the sounds were more horrible than the screams of torment in hell. A horrible realization rushed through her. She let these fiends in. She defiled the church and doomed them all. She had to make this right. They came to a door that was used as a storeroom. “There!” She shouts. No one needs any more than that and they rush into the storeroom. Marion stands at the door and looks at everyone in tears. “I’m so sorry.” She says. Everyone looks at her confused but Vincent understands. “Lock the door.” She commands calmly. Before any of them can react she slams the door. Marion can hear the beasts coming and knows she has to act fast. She looks at the hard stone wall in front of her and slams her forehead against it as hard as she can. The blow has the desired effect and she can feel a slow trickle of blood streaming down her face. She grabs a handful and rubs it against the door to hide their scent. “Lord, please protect and watch over me.” With her final prayer she runs down the hall as fast as possible. The thought of the beasts catching her seems certain but she is determined to give them the chase of a lifetime.

Inside the storeroom Jacob makes a run for the door but is stopped by Dante. “No, let me go. We can’t just abandon her!” Jacob screams. Dante leans down and whispers in his ear. “I know how you feel but she has made her choice in a clear mind. She is giving us a fighting chance and we can not afford to waste it.” Jacob gives a final sob and nods. They all sit on the floor and silently pray as the howling of the beasts grows closer. They pass by the door, sounding so much louder in the silence of the room. They pass over however one of the vampires stops and sniffs at the door. Jacob shoves his fist in his mouth to stifle his scream. The beast takes a deep inhale and almost seems to moan. The sound of a tongue wiping against the old wood fills the room and they can hear the wood splintering as the beast licks. Vincent feels as though he is going to be sick. The lapping continues until a loud female shriek echoes through the church. The vampire charges down the hall looking for fresher blood.

With the need to be quiet momentarily passed Jacob falls forward and begins to openly weep. “She wasn’t a bad woman. Had it been my parents out there with them, I might have done the same thing.” He says while wiping tears. Dante gives him a pat on the back. “No one knows how we will react to something until we are in the thick of it. The vampire’s lure is powerful and in the end she showed her true character.”

Marco paces back and forth. “Her act was noble but did it really help us or just buy us a few minutes?” He asks impatiently. “It did tell us one thing. We were right on the other side of the door and that creature either didn’t notice us or didn’t care. It only cared about the blood outside. I think their need for blood overrides everything else.” Vincent explains. Dante nods. “A Powerful piece of knowledge, but one I hope we never have to use.” Jacob shakes his head. “The question is what do we do now?”

“The plan should be the same. We get holy water and that sacred bread. That should be enough to defend ourselves right?” Marco asks. Dante shrugs. “Defend maybe but enough to truly kill them.” Marco grunts and has to physically restrain himself from punching a wall in anger. Jacob sits down and thinks to himself deeply. The odds were stacked against them. Over a dozen monsters against a boy, an old man, a priest and a drunk. It would seem as though all hope was gone and this church would be their tomb.

Suddenly inspiration strikes the boy like a bolt of lightning. “Father, earlier you said something about sealing the doors and windows with the host. Is that still possible?” Dante shrugs. “Yes but they are already inside.” Jacob smiles. “Exactly and I say we keep it that way. This could become their tomb as easily as it could be ours.” Marco smiles. “Yeah we could starve them.” Dante shakes his head. “These creatures can go centuries without eating. The bread would rot long before then.”

Jacob looks at the group sternly. “I’m not suggesting we starve them. I say we burn them. Hyssop oil is very flammable and we have literal barrels of it left over from Maundy Thursday. We lock them in the church and burn it down around them.” Everyone is shocked at the idea. “Yeah and we would burn too.” Marco protests. “If that’s what it takes.” Jacob says with no fear. The four men sit in deep contemplation. This was not a decision that any of them could make lightly. This choice would seal not only their fates but the fates of thousands. Dante stands tall. “I am not long for this earth as it is. I am in.” Vincent is next to rise. “In my mind our death was assured the moment this church was breached. I would rather go down on my own terms. Count me in.” All eyes turn to Marco who has turned his back to them in deep thought. “All my life I’ve let people down again and again. If I died tomorrow the only mourners would be the local bar owners. I finally have a chance to do something right. Let’s torch these bastards.” Everyone in the room huddles together and they begin hatching their plan. Unknown to any of them, there are an extra set of ears outside listening very closely as a sinister grin spreads over their face.

The door to the storeroom opens and everyone tiptoes into the hallway. The sounds of running and screaming has stopped, leaving the church uncomfortably quiet. Each man knows their mission. Their destinations are not far away but in these long dark halls they feel like distant worlds. The group creeps along at a snail’s pace. Dante and Vincent brandish their crosses randomly around the hall. For in the darkness every corner, every crevasse could be a hiding place for the undead. Vincent lets out a long sigh and vapors from his breath fill the air. Despite the fact it was the middle of summer the church felt cold and inhospitable. Dante had told them that the presence of the undead corrupts nature itself. Now he was seeing that first hand.

They step towards a crossroads. To the left is the bell tower where the hyssop was kept and to the right is the nave, home of the host. They would split up from here with the stronger men taking the barrels while the boy and the old man handled the bread. “Go quietly but quickly and Marco and I will find you there. Never lose faith and stay strong.” Vincent directs. Everyone nods silently. A thick layer of vapor begins filling the room like a fog. Of all the directions they searched for the undead, not one of them thought to look up.

The vampire leaps from the ceiling issuing a banshee-like screech. With one fluid motion he sinks his teeth into Vincent’s shoulder and swipes his claws down Marco’s arm. Marco screams in agony while clutching his wound. Vincent can feel the great beast draining the life from him. He begins to see blackness close in on the sides of his vision and knows that he is about to pass out. Dante wastes no time in taking action as he thrusts his cross into the fiends forehead. A horrible burning sound can be heard as smoke rises from the fiend’s face. It lets out another ear splitting scream releasing Vincent in the process. The beast goes desperate and pegs Jacob with his gaze. It leaps towards the boy but he is ready. Jacob thrusts his own cross forward. The cross is a fraction of the size of others and is made from simple wood but it does not matter. The cross smashes through the beast’s head as if it was a rotted pumpkin. The vampire hits the floor, smoke rises from its vacant neck.

The men simply stare at the boy with shock and awe. Vincent finally smiles and claps Jacob on the back. “Well done son.” He says almost beaming. Marco continues to cradle his open wound. “You need to clean that wound immediately.” Dante commands. “Way ahead of you father.” Marco replies. He pulls a small flask from his pocket and pours the liquor over his wound, stifling his screams as he does so. “Good to know that stuff is useful for something.” He says smiling. Despite the darkness they have endured, despite the danger and death surrounding them, the group has no choice but to laugh. They know they shouldn’t but they just can’t help themselves. They laugh till tears are streaming down their faces. It steadies them for a moment but only a moment for soon a new sound echoes through the halls.

Drawn by either the laughter or the smell of fresh blood, the church erupts with the sound of the undead stampeding towards them. The group snaps back into their situation. “We need to move and I’m sorry but I’ll be no good carrying those barrels with this wound.” Marco says, clutching his arm. “Neither am I.” Vincent says, struggling to stand. The vampire had sucked out far more than he thought, leaving him feeling weak. “Then we switch roles. Jacob and I will manage. No time to argue now move!” Dante commands.

Marco and Vincent don’t even waste time to affirm their answer and simply take off towards the nave. Dante and Jacob tear down the hall. They have no time to check for undead, they run like Olympic sprinters towards their goal. They rush into the entrance to the bell tower and seal the door behind them. They stand there panting so loudly they almost don’t notice the whispering coming from the room.

“Dear lord, protect and watch over me. Give me strength to overcome this ordeal.” A familiar female voice whispers from behind them. They turn abruptly to find Sister Marion with her back to them, kneeling before a cross praying. Joy fills Dante’s soul. “Sister, we thought we lost you. I’m so glad you are safe.” Marion shakes her head. “I was so afraid but I’m glad you found me.” She says softly. Dante moves to embrace her but this time it is Jacob’s turn to notice the finer details. The fact that the cross Marion was praying to is upside down does not escape his notice. He grabs Dante’s robe and yanks the man back with all his might. Marion turns around revealing a horrible gray face with pitch black eyes. She snaps at him with her fangs missing by a mere breath.

Marion issues a cruel chuckle that sends a shiver down their spines. “You’ve come just as she said you would.” The words’ implications freeze the old man and he begins to shiver. Marion can feel the fear oozing from Dante and she smiles, showing off her large incisor fangs. “You left me out there to die. Not one of you rushed to my aid. I felt immeasurable pain as they tore my flesh apart and ripped my blood from me. Now you will too.”

A mighty clash echoes through the chamber as the door is smashed into. The sound of dozens of claws ripping the wooden door to shreds overwhelms all sounds. Dante turns to Jacob and even though he can’t hear him over the shredding of wood, he doesn’t need to hear to understand the man’s command. “Run!”

Jacob makes no complaint, no insubordination at the command of his mentor. He takes to the stairs of the bell tower and begins tearing up them at full speed. With Dante distracted Marion makes her move. She leaps at Dante and sinks her teeth deep into his neck. His screams echo up the shaft and assault Jacob’s ears. Marion throws Dante to the ground as the last bits of the door give way, releasing the flood of the undead. They pounce on their prey and every piece of exposed flesh becomes a feeding ground.

Jacob listens in horror to the sounds of flesh being torn and begins to weep. A horrible gulping sound, that he knows he will never forget if he tries, fills the air and Jacob is almost sick. Jacob is so distracted by the sounds booming around him that he loses track of his surroundings. He trips over something on the stairs and nearly smashes his face open. He manages to get his arms out just in time to stop his face from hitting the cold stone steps. This action undoubtedly saves his life. He looks back at what he tripped over only to discover that it was the very thing they had come for.

Two large barrels of hyssop oil lay before him. A lot of good they would do him now. The beasts had him cornered and the plan was a failure. But it didn’t have to be. Dante’s words flashed in his mind. “Holy liquids can kill them.” He says to himself. He looked down at the ensuing carnage. Dante looks up at the boy and through the pain he issues a single nod of understanding. Jacob returns the nod and takes a deep breath. He grabs the two barrels and shoves them over the edge of the balcony.

The next few seconds move in slow motion for Jacob and he knows he will see these images in his nightmares forever. The barrels smash into the ground and break open all at once. The burst of liquid sprays over the vampires like a mighty wave. The beasts begin screaming like mad men as smoke radiates off their bodies. Their rotting flesh boils and disintegrates off their body in great clumps. The skeletal remains of the cursed beasts fall to the floor, never to rise again. The stench of burning flesh overwhelms the smell of the oil and Jacob believes that he will pass out. He holds on and stares down at Dante.

Despite the pain and looming darkness invading his being, the old man manages a smile at the boy. With his throat thrashed he can not truly speak but instead mouths a single word. Once again Jacob does not need to hear the two letter word to understand its meaning. He had done more than enough and it was time for him to go. The boy finishes his long climb of the stairs and reaches the open air of the bell tower. He takes one deep breath and uses the ropes to scale his way down the building. He feels no fear in climbing down. After what he had just gone through he has no fear left to give. By the grace of God he reaches the ground safely. He takes one last look at the church and sends up a small prayer for those who remain within. He then takes off into the woods and exits our tale forever.

Vincent and Marco creep into the nave. They lean against each other for strength as their wounds have taken a toll on them. They find the nave empty and rush to take care of their work while they have the chance. Vincent heads over to the altar for the host. Marco limps over to the other side of the nave and begins searching. “What are you doing? We keep the eucharist pieces over here.” Vincent inquires. “I’m just looking for… other supplies.” Marco responds nervously. “There is no wine left.” Vincent says. “Damn.” Marco curses. Vincent shakes his head and fails to hear the faint gurgling sound.

The church organ bursts to life and delivers a short horrifying note fit for a hammer film. Both men turn to find Gracie sitting at the organ giving a big smile. “I’m so glad to attend service with us. We have been waiting for your arrival.” She says grinning wider. As if by her will all the candles and lanterns in the nave burst to life. What Vincent sees is horrible beyond imagining. The massive crucifix in the center of the room has been turned upside down. The figure of Jesus has been mutilated with black blood dripping from his eyes. The colorful banners have been replaced with torn black strips of cloth. Satanic pentagrams adorn all the stained glass windows. They have truly perverted the house of the lord.

“I thought I would fix things up for you. Don’t worry about your feelings of shock and horror. They will fade once you join our coven. You WILL be joining us. Nothing can stop that now.” Gracie gloats. Vincent believes her. As strong as his faith in the almighty is, he believes in her words more. Fear and helplessness overwhelm him. Marco sees Vincent’s weakness and tries to fight it. “You can turn us if you want but you are going to die regardless because….”

“Your friends are getting oil to burn the church down.” Gracie interrupts. Marco freezes in his tracks. “Oh yes we know. You should be more careful when you speak. The dead hear many things. Your pathetic excuse for arsonists are meeting with an old friend as we speak. I would guess they have minutes to live. Which still might be longer than the two of you.” Gracie gloats. Before he can react Marco is impaled by razor sharp claws. Chiara giggles from behind him. “Hello big boy. Did you miss me?” She taunts.

Marco falls to his knees, blood draining from his mouth. Vincent turns to Gracie who lunges at him like a jungle cat. Vincent thrusts his cross at her but in that moment he looks into her eyes and fear overwhelms everything. Gracie makes contact with the cross but this time there is no smoke, no burning sound. Gracie pouts and shakes her head. “How unfortunate. I thought you would be stronger.” Gracie smashes her fist into Vincent and he feels as though he is being struck by a big rig. He flies across the room with his back striking the wall. The cross flies from his hands and skitters across the floor. Vincent lands on the hard floor and feels his bones crumbling. He can feel one certainty crash into him, he was never going to stand again.

Gracie smiles in victory. She looks at Chiara and gives a subtle nod. Chiara returns the grin and pulls her claws out of Marco. She slices her arm open and black blood, crawling with maggots, oozes out. “Time to take a drink, big boy.” Chiara says as she lowers her arm to him. “You first” He snaps back. With all that remains of his strength he wraps one arm around Chiara’s neck and with the other he dumps his flask down her throat.

This time whiskey does not flow from its depths but holy water that he had taken from the sacred font. Chiara screams and gurgles as her throat burns from the inside out. She scratches at Marco who merely laughs. Finally her head falls to the floor, her neck burned to a crisp. Marco gives one final wheezing laugh as he too falls to the floor dying a hero’s death.

Gracie pants in rage however the loss of Chiara is a mere hangnail compared to the pain that follows. A series of ear splitting screeches echo through the church as the oil strikes the floor of the belltower. Gracie feels the pain of each of her children as their skin and lives melt away. Despite his searing pain Vincent can’t help but laugh. Nothing went according to plan but they had struck a blow nonetheless.

Gracie turns to him with nothing but pure fury streaming from her obsidian eyes. She leaps onto his chest and begins slicing at his chest in rage. “You will pay for each life lost in blood. Your friends, your neighbors, your congregation will become my new family. You will see your church fall and you will understand what true pain is!” She makes a final slice and some of his blood enters her mouth. Gracie’s eyes widen and she leaps off of him. She slowly brings her claws to her mouth and gives a slow lick. Her body begins to tremble and for a moment her eyes gleam scarlet. “Brother.” She says as a smile forms.

With demonic speed and grace she is on him again. She slices her wrist and shoves the open wound into his mouth. The blood flows like molasses and the taste is horrible beyond imagining. The blood tastes like the fiends odor, it tastes like death. Vincent tries to spit it out but it is too thick. Gracie bites into his neck and the blood of one flows into the other. Gracie finally rises and licks her lips.

Vincent can feel the blood work his way through his system. It is like ice in his veins and he can feel it rotting him from the inside. His organs begin to fail one by one and he can feel the darkness spreading. Gracie is almost dancing with joy. “It would seem like little Matty wasn’t as pure as he claimed to be. This is the blood of a broken vow. The last of the Baciu line has fallen. Now, blood of my blood we shall rule together in darkness for eternity. Now rise, Nephew!”

Vincent gasps one final gasp and could feel the transformation reach its completion. He finds even in the dim light of the candles he can see everything. He sees the dust particles flying. He can see the spiders in the rafters silently spinning their webs. He can hear the heartbeat of every squirrel and deer in the forest. Above all smells their blood. It is the need for blood that makes him move. The bones in his back snap back into place and he rises to his feet.

Gracie smiles up at him with a fiendish grin. “How does it feel?” He looks upon his gray flesh and his long pointed tipped claws. “Powerful.” Responds a deep voice and dark voice that is not entirely his own. Gracie nods with approval. “What do you want to do?” She asks with a gleam in her eyes. Vincent thinks deeply. There are several needs and desires bubbling in his mind. Pleasures that he had denied himself all of his life were now open to him. However deeper than a need to sin, deeper even than a need to feed, a single desire fills his mind.

He reaches out and grabs one of the lanterns. Inside the flames dance and a sinister grin rushes over his face. “This church will burn.” He throws the lantern at a pew setting it alight. Gracie watches the flames spread and smiles. She looks into the eyes of her kin and nods. Vincent places his hand on the little girl’s shoulder. “And we burn with it.” Before Gracie has a moment to comprehend his words, Vincent tackles her into the growing flames.

Gracie screams in agony. She rakes her claws across Vincent like a wild animal but to no avail. Vincent wraps his arms tightly around her and holds her in place. He can see the skin falling off of both their bodies and yet he feels neither heat nor pain. He feels nothing but peace as the demon within him roasts. Gracie glares at him in pure rage, her hate burning brighter than the flames. Vincent merely rests his head against hers and to his surprise she gently rubs her head against his.

The fire consumes the church overnight. No one knows how it started but one in the community has his suspicions. No remains were found inside and the disappearances of its clergy remains a mystery. They join the eternally missing and yet they are also found. After countless centuries the scourge of Northridge has been vanquished. Finally the spirits of Mathew and Gracie have been granted peace.

Credit: Tenac