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Written by Mark'ee Drankard
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In folklore a Vampire is a malevolent essence that refuses
to join the ranks
of the dead, but instead takes possession of a body in order to
continue
enjoying the pleasures of the living. In some secluded regions
of Eastern
Europe during ancient times, peasants hung wreaths of garlic over
their doors
as a preventive measure to guard them from evil spirits.
BUT
In 1997 as we descend upon calumnious times, wondering if we'll
go quietly
into the night, an evil presence hibernates among us. Waiting
for the moment
to once more saunter among the living, and to once again feast
upon the flesh
of humankind.
The Journal
January 25, 1997 Town of Massillon, South East Ohio
God help us all. The last few days have been a living hell.
The town of
Massillon has been over taken by something which gives a new meaning
to the
word evil. Bodies are being found drained completely of blood
and sometimes
vital organs are being liquefied to the point where they can be
sucked out
with a straw. It's really sickening to describe these facts, but
everything
must be told as the way they are. Hundreds have succumbed to this
evil, and I
fear that I will be next. Fear.... that's a word t thought I would
never hear
in this town. Why Massillon? Particularly why me? I can feel the
cold wind of
death blowing at my feet. I know God has a day for everyone and
he has a day
for me. Being here dealing with this, death is not an option.
I know it's
coming for me now. The wind is howling outside like a coyote at
the moon, and
the smell of rotting flesh is in the air. Before I die without
mercy the
story must be told of the beginning of the evil that has to be
put to an end.
The Crew
January 19, 1997
Town Of Massillon, South East Ohio
"Hey James how's the wife coming along?"
"She's fine Brad, but she's big as a house."
Brad popped the latch on the cooler and tossed James a cold bottle
of water.
"Thanks man," James yelled out over the noisy machinery.
"Hey let's get back to work, this has to be done before the
end of the day."
Brad wiped the sweat from his face as he approached Mark from
the back.
Spinning around Mark raised his safety glasses and shut off the
ground
pounder.
"How's it looking?"
"I'm almost done, just a few more feet to go and finito."
"Ok just give me a push on the radio when your done,"
Brad said. "I'll be in
the trailer."
"Roger that big man," Mark yelled switching on the ground
pounder and
re-adjusting his glasses.
Across the barren field Peter, Jason, and Randall sat in the shade
hurling
rocks.
"Randall," Peter said radiantly. Randall turned his
head and frowned.
"You ever think about leaving this town?"
"What makes you say that?" questioned Randall.
"Well I lived here all my life and I have never been out
of this town, except
to Cleveland."
"I have," said Randall. "Things are better here."
"Hey," Jason interrupted. "Mark wants you Randall."
"What the hell does he want now," groaned Randall standing
up.
Mark dropped the ground pounder creating a puff of dust. Just
as he began to
remove his glasses the machine fell into the hole he was digging.
"Dam" he belted throwing the glasses in the dirt.
"What do you want?" Randall asked kicking a rock.
"I was going to ask you to take over, but the freakin pounder
fell in the
hole."
"Tisk tisk," replied Randall shaking his head. "Go
get it."
Lowering himself into the hole Mark reached for a loose rock
on the dirt wall.
Losing his hold he fell violently onto the ground smacking his
head. That
hurt, he notioned to himself.
Stumbling to his feet Mark focused his eyes on the darkness, and
noticed a
tunnel on the faraway end of the wall.
"Are you alive down there?" Randall yelled from the
top.
"Yeah, hey toss me down a light there's a tunnel down here."
"Gotcha, I shall return."
Mark gripped his arm as a trickle of blood ran down his hand.
"Ouch," He
moaned shaking his hand.
Randall quickly returned with a flashlight and stood over the
hole.
"Heads up," he yelled throwing it down. "You need
any help?"
"No," Mark called back up. "I'll be right back."
Switching on the flashlight Mark found that it wasn't much
help. He
continuously scrolled the beam of light back and forth as he stepped
forward.
The cut on his arm sent a surge of pain to his hand and he groaned.
The
tunnel was pitch black leaving Mark to use his imagination determining
what
was ahead.
Stepping into an un-enclosed area he once again burnished the
beam of light
across the walls. Something on the wall caught his attention as
he shook the
flashlight which was losing power. Idiot gave me a dead one he
thought to
himself. Wobbling over to the wall he noticed there were symbols
of some sort
possibly hieroglyphics. Mark shuddered as a chill came over him.
Taking his
eyes of the symbols he became stunned as he caught sight of a
long
rectangular, wooden box positioned halfway into the ground. "What
the hell,"
He said out loud shaking the flashlight once more. Mark touched
the top of
the box running his blood soaked hand across the seams. A minuscule
drop of
blood fell into the seam as Mark withdrew his hand. "I have
to go tell the
guys about this," He whispered turning around. He moved carefully
away from
the object and headed towards the entrance of the chamber like
area. A chill
came over him again as a creak echoed through the tunnel. "Who's
there?" He
called out. Not receiving an answer he continued to stroll forward
glancing
down at the ground. Slowly Mark watched as a shadow progressed
into the beam
of light making him quicken his pace.
He soon began to run as the shadow became bigger and bigger. Mark
now out of
breath bent over gripping his arm. As he returned to a standing
position a
presence was felt at his back. Turning around Mark was knocked
to the ground.
Dropping the flashlight he yelled as a pair of teeth split his
skull,
splattering blood onto the walls of the tunnel. His body convulsed
violently
against the dirt floor spinning the flashlight around in circles
which
darkened the tunnel into a crimson like crypt.
The Awakening
Brad sat in the trailer tapping on the window motioning Randall
inside.
"What's up?" Randall asked stepping inside.
"Is Mark done yet?"
"Yeah he had to get the pounder out of the hole, it fell
in," said Randall
scratching his head.
"Tell him to get his ass in gear, it's quitting time."
"Allrighty then," yelled Randall imitating Jim Carey.
Randall made his way across the field kicking rocks along the
way.
He stepped over the hole and called out for Mark. Not receiving
an answer he
threw a rock into the hole.
"I'm coming," a voice hollered from below. "I'll
meet you back in town."
Randall turned and walked off shaking his head. "Hey guys
let's go," He
yelled to Peter and Jason.
As the sun slowly disappeared over the hills a powerful wind
blew over the
field. Brad sat in an easy chair reading a newspaper.
"Losers," He muttered folding the paper and standing
up. He walked over to
his window and peered through the shades. Just then there came
a knock at the
door making him jump. Making his way across the room he opened
the door and
before it stood Mark.
"It's about time," Brad said slamming the door as Mark
stepped inside.
"I had a little shopping to do," explained Mark. "But
I'm ready now."
The late model Chevy pulled out of the driveway with the two
men inside.
Mark turned to Brad and slammed his hand on the dashboard.
"Something wrong?" Brad asked stopping in the middle
of the street.
"Yeah I forgot my glasses at the site," Mark answered.
"We'll go back and get them," Replied Brad turning the
car around.
Mark unbuckled his seat belt as the car pulled onto the field.
"Right here,"
He said gripping the door handle. Hastily exiting the car Mark
disappeared
into the darkness. Awaiting Mark to return Brad calmly sat in
the car tapping
on the steering wheel.
A few seconds later Mark appeared on the driver's side window
motioning him
to roll down the window.
"What?" Brad asked disgustedly.
"I have something to show you."
Mark lifted his hands in the air exposing a blood soaked hand.
"What the hell happened to you?" Brad screamed.
"No the question is what the hell happened to you,"
Mark whispered quietly.
Without hesitation Mark shattered the remains of the window and
gripped Brad
by the neck. His body squirmed in the seat kicking the dashboard
as Mark
slowly pulled him through the window. Brad screamed and hollered
but was
quickly muted when his brains splattered on the car door. Mark
arose from a
squatting position and gripped Brad's arm dragging him through
the dirt
towards the hole. Mark arrived at his destination and quickly
lifted up
Brad's limp body throwing it into the hole. The body hit the dirt
below with
a loud thud creating a billow of dust. Mark turned and bit into
his own hand
deeply drawing blood. "Now is the time," He whispered
quietly. "Now is the
time."
Blood Ties
January 20, 1997
"Here ya go," Mr. Jamison smiled handing James a
reciept.
"Hey Mr. Jamison, have you noticed anything weird about your
cows?"
"I can't say," Mr. Jamison replied. "I haven't
been out to my field yet."
"Why you asking?"
"Well this morning Jason found one of his dead."
"It was all shriveled up like something drained it of blood."
"Yeah that is weird," whispered Mr. Jamison.
"Thanks anyway I have to get back home."
"Later," said Mr. Jamison as James exited the store.
Fifteen minutes later James arrived in his driveway. Getting
out of his car
he noticed the door to his shed was open.
Here we go again, He thought to himself. James made his way down
the driveway
and over to the shed. Peeking at the door he discovered blood
stains on the
doorway.
"Who's in there?" He yelled through the crack of the
door.
"Who ever in there I suggest you come out before you get
shot," James called
out again.
He bent over and glanced at the foot prints that were leading
into the shed.
Slowly but carefully James pushed open the door trying to harbor
the
squeaking. The shed inside was totally dark inside blocking out
sources of
light. James grabbed a pitchfork off the wall and continued to
walk forward.
A sound from the rear of the shed startled him pausing him in
his tracks.
"Okay," He said "Loosen up."
As soon as he had spoke a dead dog fell from the rafters making
him drop to
the ground. Quickly jumping to his feet James examined the dog.
It too had
been fully drained of blood.
"What the hell is going on," He said out loud.
Dropping the pitchfork James raced out of the shed and up to the
door of his
house. He stepped inside out of breath reaching for a twelve gauge
shotgun on
the wall. While searching for a box of shells there came a knock
at the door.
"Who is it?" James groaned from across the room.
"Me Peter," said the voice behind the door.
"Come in."
"What are you doing?" Peter asked eyeing the shotgun
in James' hand.
"There's some weird shit going on here," James said
opening a drawer.
"What do you mean?" Peter questioned again.
James laid the shotgun down on the floor and slammed the desk
drawer.
"I found my dog dead in the shed, he looked decomposed entirely."
"That is weird," Peter answered back. "Today one
of Jason's cows was found
dead in his field, maybe it's some kind of disease."
"Yeah I know, let's hope so," James said cocking the
shotgun.
One mile away Randall stood under the hood of his car consistently
working.
"That should do it," He said wiping his hands. Simultaneously
he stared at
James running up the driveway.
"What do you want?" He shouted.
"Have you heard from Mark or Brad," He said out of breath.
"No," Randall said quickly. "Why?"
"No one can find them," James continued. "The Sheriff
found Brad's car out at
the site with blood smeared on it." "We have to go find
them."
"Calm down," Randall whispered shutting his hood. "I'm
sure nothing bad has
happened to them." "I hope not for God's sake."
Doug whistled along with the radio as he sped down the dirt
road. Glancing
down at his watch he noticed that time has passed rapidly while
he was
driving. The day had come to an end drawing every night animal
out to move
under the light of the moon. Doug stopped his car and stared into
the
rearview mirror. "Pee break," He said opening the door.
Doug made his way to the woodline searching for a spot do his
business.
He shuddered when rat ran across his foot. "I should of stayed
in the Navy,"
He whispered unzipping his pants. Doug sighed as he began to relieve
himself. Finishing up he zipped his zipper and shook his hands.
Taking one
step forward Doug stopped in his tracks as he met face to face
with a
Gargoyle like creature. Doug stumbled back horrified trying to
scream. His
throat was rapidly slashed causing him to drop to his knees gripping
his
throat. The creature stood over Doug unfolding it's wings. Bending
over it
drilled it's teeth deep into Doug's skull making his body quiver
wildly.
Seconds later Doug's mutilated body lay in the dirt drained completely
of
blood. Wailing in a high pitched tone the creature flew off into
the night
in search of another immolation.
Dismay
"May I help you sir?" The police officer asked Randall
as he stepped up to
the counter.
"Yes I'd like to file a missing persons report," Replied
Randall.
"Male or female," The officer queried again.
"Actually it's two males," Randall said handing him
some pictures.
"You know sir, this is the twenty second missing persons
case we had today."
"Things are getting pretty hectic around here."
"Yeah I know what you mean," Peter said stepping up
alongside Randall.
"You remember Doug Mcallister?" Peter asked after pausing.
"Actually I do," "What about him?"
"They found his body in the woods about five miles from here,
it was in the
same condition as the animals."
"I don't think Mark and Brad are missing," Peter continued.
"I think whatever
happened to Doug happened to them too, we just haven't found them
yet."
Randall picked the pictures up and stuffed them into his pocket.
"Don't worry
about that report officer," He said. "It won't be necessary."
"This is straight out of The X-Files," Peter said peering
at the road ahead.
"I say we leave town right now and don't look back."
"Are you crazy?" Yelled Randall. "I've lived in
this town just about my whole
life, and I'm not going to let something like this drive me out
of it."
"Yeah when you come back to reality give me a call, because
I'm going to
Cleveland."
Just as soon as Peter had spoke he slammed on his brakes making
the vehicle
come to a jarring halt. "What are you doing?" Randall
said holding on to the
dashboard. "I thought I saw something," Peter yelled.
"Like what?" asked
Randall. Without warning there came a banging noise on top of
the car rocking
it back and forth. "Shit!" both men screamed. "Let's
get out of here."
Peter yanked the car into drive and jerked the wheel. A popping
sound was
made followed by the car stopping a few feet down the road. The
car continued
to rock back and forth shaking Peter and Randall inside. A deep
slash punched
through the top of the car sending metal fragments bending inward.
"What the
hell is it?" Randall yelled terrified. A gunshot rang out
followed by a
shriek. Suddenly the car stopped rocking and James stepped out
of the
darkness hauling a shotgun. "I think we'd better get out
of here before that
thing comes back," He said lowering the shotgun. The two
men exited the car
and ran in James' direction.
"Thank God your here," Peter said out of breath.
"Whatever that thing is it's draining it's victims of blood."
"I'd Like to know where it came from," Randall replied.
"And I think it's gotten to Mark and Brad."
Off in the distance the three men stared into the lights of a
car speeding
down the road. "That looks like Jason's car," Peter
yelled over the whisking
breeze.
"Let's hope so," James answered cocking the shotgun.
Coming to a stop the
door immediately swung open and Jason stepped out.
"Help me," He said. Lifting his head Jason's face revealed
a sanguineous
visage. "Help me," He repeated. "What happened?"
James asked. "I--, I was in
my field when this, th--, this thing attacked me." "I
managed to get away
but I don't think I'm gonna make it."
"OK," said Randall. "Get him and let's head back
to my place."
Jason sat in a chair pressing a bandage to his head. "How
are you doing?"
Peter asked handing him a glass of water. "To tell you the
truth, I, I feel
cold." Jason let out a cough and he bent over. "Shit
it hurts," He screamed.
Jason abruptly went into a seizure slinging blood and vomit all
over the
room. "What's happening?" James said backing against
the wall. Jason's body
dropped to the floor inanimate. At the same time the door burst
open and
standing before it was Mark. Peter stepped forward studying Mark's
face. "Get
away from it Peter," James yelled. "That's not Mark."
The figure standing in front of Peter reached out his hand and
let out a
hiss. "Get away from it," James yelled again raising
his shotgun. Mark sprang
onto Peter's torso cleaving at his throat. Peter screamed and
writhed in
agony as the blood briskly gushed from his jugular area. A shotgun
blare
illuminated the room sending Mark tumbling into the wall. Mark
at once
returned to a standing position and grasped the barrel of the
shotgun. "It's
funny," He said in a raspy voice. "I'm getting used
to this thing, you can't
kill me, I'm forever," He yelled divulging a bloody pair
of teeth. Suddenly
from behind Randall shoved a stake through Mark's heart collapsing
his body
to the floor. "Try that asshole," He said stomping the
wood deeper into
Mark's body. To his astonishment Mark's body dissipated on the
floor leaving
a foul smell suspended in the atmosphere.
"We have to get down to the site," said Randall looking
up at James.
"Why is that?" "I have an idea where all this is
coming from, if you just
think about it Brad's car was found there and we never saw Mark
after that
day at the site."
"If you think so," James replied. "I'm with you,
let's go," He said picking
up the shotgun.
Twenty minutes later James and Randall arrived at the site.
"I don't see
anything out of the ordinary." James whispered glancing out
of the window.
"Not yet," Randall answered back. "Come on."
The two men made their way to the chasm carefully keeping sight
of everything
around them. Staring down into the pitch dark void Randall lit
a torch. "You
first", He said eyeing James through the flames. "Are
you crazy?" James
added. "This was your idea, you go first."
"Suit yourself," Randall belted climbing down into the
hole. The sounds of
Randall hitting bottom echoed to James overhead. "Come on,"
He yelled from
below. "This is a bad idea," James whispered to himself.
"This is a bad
idea." Gradually making his way into the hole James wondered
if he would come
out alive to see his wife again. Landing roughly in the earth
James stood up
and faced Randall. "Let's do it," He said raising his
shotgun.
Dead End
"It smells like crap down here," James said covering
his face with one hand.
"Be quiet and keep moving," replied Randall.
Coming to the ingress of a chamber Randall bent down and examined
a pair of
foot prints. "Hmmm," He said standing up.
"What," asked James.
"I think we need to go this way," Randall finally said
pointing.
The two men continued walking forward stepping into the berth.
"Oh my Lord," James whispered glancing at the writing
on the walls.
Randall stepped forward closely peering at the wooden box in the
medial of
the chamber. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something move
in the
shadows. "Don't move," He said putting his hand up to
James.
The sound of bones splintering rang out, and out of the lightlessness
stood a
fleshless carcass coated in blood. "Get down!" James
yelled raising the
shotgun. A single peal from the shotgun and the skeleton crumbled
to the
ground. "That should take care of that."
Taking his eyes off the bones Randall stepped around it only to
be held by a
disembodied skeletal arm. He quickly shook it loose kicking it
into a corner.
"I see my friends have returned," a voice clamored.
Spinning around James and
Randall met face to face with Brad. This time he wasn't the same.
Brad's face
had been boorishly mutilated and his brain was unveiled. "I
feel better than
ever," He said progressing forward. Brad ran his hand along
his teeth licking
the blood from it. "I love the taste of that, and now I'm
going to savor
yours," Brad yelled lunging forward. Jumping onto Randall
Brad gripped his
throat lifting his body into the air. "Let him go!"
James screamed pointing
the shotgun at Brad's head. Brad lifted his arm smacking James
into the
wooden box knocking it over. Jumping to his feet James released
the shotgun
and ran full speed into Brad causing him to fall and drop Randall.
Randall
scurried across the floor towards the shotgun wincing in discomfort.
As Brad
returned to his feet a sharp retractile claw split his chest collapsing
him
instantly. When his body fell to the dirt an immense grotesque
foot appeared
from the shadows. The creature stood ten feet tall. Opening it's
wings the
creature raised it's hand dropping Brad's blackened heart to the
floor. The
two men frightened beyond belief backed to the wall. The creature
stepped
forward hissing as it eyed the two men. Randall raised the shotgun
to it's
chest and took aim. Just as he began to pull the trigger the creature's
appearance transposed to that of James' wife Heidi. "Please
don't hurt me,"
She said gently. "Put the gun down," James uttered turning
to Randall.
"That's not your wife," Randall answered back disgustedly.
"It's not her," James repeated. "Shoot it,"
He said coming to a decision.
At that instant the creature transformed back into it's initial
form jumping
onto James. Randall discharged a shot sending it tumbling into
the exterior
chamber.
It returned to it's feet extending an arm grasping James by the
chest.
Pulling him near the creature's hand caught fire as a flicker
of sunlight
fell upon it.
James wiggled in it's hand grasping a crucifix from his neck and
slamming it
into the creature's orifice. "Move," Randall yelled
splintering a portion of
wood from the box. "Tell Mephistopheles to send me a postcard,"
Randall
yelled once more charging the creature forcing the wood deep into
it's chest.
Randall took a stride back and drop kicked the basilisk driving
the wood
deeper inside of it. The creature spun in circles slinging a slimy
verdant
fluid about the chamber and onto James and Randall. Erupting into
flames it
imploded scattering flesh all over the confines of the walls.
James clutched Randall by the arm pulling him out of the hole.
"Thank God for
the daystar," He said looking up into the early morning heavens.
"Let's go
home." Randall turned and stared down into the hole bewildered
wondering if
the baneful was ultimately at a dead end.....
