Part 2..

Again the voice, it seemed to be pleading. 
  “Help me” I took off across the green and tripped on a low-lying marker.  I managed to scrap my hand on a very old stone that was now lying flat on the earth.  Great I thought as I lied there, I’m flat on my face with and there’s some crazy out here with me.   I rose to my feet and headed for the gate. 
  “Please don’t go”.  It was the voice again.  I turned to see a young man in his early thirties standing five feet in front of me.  He wore tattered breeches and a waistcoat.  A gold pocket watch swung from his vest.  I clapped my hand over my mouth and backed away.  His face was as white as stone.
  “Who are you?” I gasped.   
  “Please, I will not hurt you”. He stepped closer.  My name is John Deburcahed, the sun will rise very soon and I need a place to hide”.    I gave him a hard look. 
  “And who do you think you are a vampire or something?”  For all I knew this guy was a little off. 
  “Yes, I am a vampyer”.  He said boldly. “ And I can prove it”.  Before I could rebut he had suddenly appeared right next to me and smiled a long toothy grin. 
  “Nice fangs” I said in a shaky voice.  My name is Anna.  He took my hand and kissed it. His lips were cold but gentle. I felt the tips of his fangs against my skin.  As I withdrew my hand I looked into his dark eyes.  “So where did you come from, I mean don’t you have coffin or something around here?” My god I thought this is crazy; here I am standing out in the cemetery with a vampire.   He explained to me that in the year 1885 he came to Canada with his wife.  And that they had lived in this town together for a year.  A sudden fever had taken his wife so he deiced to return home to Paris.  There was nothing left for him in Canada.  So he sold his house and lands and booked passage back to France. The night before his departure he was visited by a strange women.  She had been interested in buying some of the French furniture he had posted for sale in the town hall.  When he told her all had been sold she was most upset.  She flew at him and bit him on the neck. At which point he fell into unconiuness.  He awoke the next night to find himself in a coffin.  He had been buried in the very graveyard in which we stood.  He clawed his way to the surface.  The women, Elizabeth, the one who had bitten him, was there waiting for him.  She told him what he had become, a vampire.  He did not believe her.  But as time went on he learned what he must do to survive.  He prayed on the sick and the weak.  An outbreak of Cholera made things very easy for them.  Elizabeth and John fed as they will with no worry of being detected.  However, that all changed.  Duncan Mcdougall, a fire and brimstone preacher came to the town of Valton in the spring of 1889.  His quest was to destroy all the evil in the town.  He was paranoid and suspicious of everyone. His sermons struck fear in the hearts of the town’s people.  He was convinced that a monster was in this very town.  He said that God had sent him to cleanse the evil.  Elizabeth, in her quest to eliminate this threat was caught and tried to flee.  Mcdougall found out where she rested by day.  He staked her, then filled her coffin with garlic and rue.  He then poured brimstone over the coffin and covered up the grave with large stones.  He had kept a lock of her hair and one of her eyes in a little black box as a talisman against vampires.  He then declared the town cursed.  John had to act quickly.  He dug himself as far down as he could into his grave and waited for all to subside.  As the years went by he fell into a very deep sleep. Thankfully no on opened his grave.   It was a hundred and seven years later when a large machine, a front loader, dug down close to his coffin.  The cemetery was now using the old section to put in new graves.  That night he emerged from his slumber to find a very different world.  The clock tower began to toll the hour.  It would be sunrise in twenty minutes.
    “John I said can you not go back to your grave?”   
  “No Anna”, he sighed deeply. “ I believe someone knows my secret”.  “My grave has been filled with a foul brew, can you help me?” He pleaded. 
  “Well, I know where you can stay but I warn you, I don’t know how safe it is or if it still existed”.
  “ Oh, how do you mean?” 
  “ Come, time is wasting”.  I led him to the south end of the cemetery.  If my calculations are correct we would find a door in one of the mausoleums that led to catacombs under the cemetery.  I was surprised that John did not know of them himself.  We found the right one.  The door was nailed shut and sealed with pitch.
    “Bugger, it’s sealed” I swore. 
  “Not to worry”. Said John, who ripped the door open with one hand.    The pungent order of stale air filled my lungs as I led the way in.  I lit a match and found a torch on the wall.  As I stepped over to it I heard a strange sound. 
  “What is that?” I said.  The sound got louder and louder.  Scraping and squealing filled the air, and then the ground began to shake.  I dropped the match and froze.
  “Oh dear!” John quipped and then seized me around the waist and lifted me up.  From down in the bowels of the earth came a hoard of rats.  They came up the stairs and flooded the anti chamber we where in.   The sound of their cries were deafening.  John pushed open the door so that they could exit.  They filed out in a great hurry.

Curlgirl64 wrote on Oct 19^th, 2007 at 1:50am:


Thanks and enjoy!

Excellent story,Lisabelle!!!