Child of Time

Shelley Battle suspected there actually had not been any animal attacks; she suspectedmurder.

Shelley had been on the Wyoming Highway Patrol for almost five years. She knew that she always gave her best effort, and thought she was a good cop. Still, her career was not progressing as she thought it should. She always made a point of being absolutely professional, but was convinced that, because she was an attractive blonde, her superiors did not take her seriously, and her coworkers thought she got her job because of her looks.

She knew she was a good investigator, but was never given assignments that would let her

use those skills. She was sure that if she could get an opportunity, she would break a big case, so she had begun checking out situations she thought suspicious on her own time.

Recently, near Casper, two campers and a rancher had been killed in what had been deemed animal attacks. She was not part of the investigations at the scenes, but had read the reports and examined the bodies. The more she looked into these incidents, the more skeptical she became that the victims had actually not been killed by bears or cougars. It was clear enough that the bodies had been badly mauled by animals, but, to her, it seemed that the mauling had been done by scavenging bears post mortem.

She thought the lack of bruising around the wounds and the small amount of bleeding indicated that the bodies were already dead when the animals found them. She had once investigated the scene of a documented killing by a bear, and remembered what a bloody place it was.

At these three scenes, however, there did not seem to be enough blood on the ground or in the tents. The only wounds that seemed consistent with having been inflicted on live people were minor punctures in the victims’ throat areas, and that did not make sense to her, either. It seemed very plausible that someone murdered the people and then counted on animals to destroy the evidence.

She decided to investigate the attack scenes herself, so late one afternoon, after her shift, she drove her Jeep to the site of the most recent attack to look around.

In the rapidly advancing twilight, as she approached the site, she caught sight of a man standing stiff and motionless in the shadow of a big tree. The man’s presence at the scene and his lifeless stance made her suspicious and want to question him. She stopped her vehicle and stepped out. As she looked at the man again, she was overcome by a sense of disorientation. Although the trees were still, she felt a strong wind buffeting back and forth, and on that wind there seemed to be many strange sounds, some of them resembling voices. To her, the nightfall set in very fast. A strange, impenetrable, almost palatable darkness, dense and consuming, punctuated by disordered flashes of light assaulted her consciousness. Blood rushed to her brain as she became oblivious to her surroundings. She was aware of him only, as he seemed to stand silhouetted by a faint glow against total blackness. Although he remainedmotionless and silent, she seemed to hear his voice calling her to him, and could not resist going. As she stood before him, she was overcome by an intense fear, but also filled with a fascination that would not let her turn from his gaze or run away. She felt herself at once excited by and loathing the thought of his touch. He reached out and took her face in his hands causing her feelings to become so intense that her heart was pounding and she was having trouble breathing.

As he moved his face within inches of hers, she felt something seize her and pull her away from him and to the ground. She was now semi-conscious. She was vaguely aware of a loud crashing sound and something flying through the air before she saw the man become limp and drop to the ground. Then she blacked out completely.

When she regained consciousness, she saw the windshield of her Jeep lodged in a tree some distance behind where the man had been standing. She also saw the tree immediately behind the man cut in two with the top lying on the ground. She realized that the windshield was what she had seen and heard flying through the air, and that it had struck and decapitated the man, and continued cutting through a tree before lodging into another. She looked where he had been standing and saw only a pile of clothes, but no body.

She also became aware that someone else was there. Her mind cleared a little more, and she saw another man kneeling beside and her, and heard him talking to her.

She heard him say repeatedly, “Are you OK? Can you understand me?”

She managed to make herself reply, “I can hear you, but I’m not sure if I’m OK or not.”

He produced a bottle and said, “Take a sip of water. Your head will clear in a few minutes.

Here, try to sit up. Let me help you.”

When she sat up, she asked, “What happened? Why’s the moon out in the middle of the day? And would somebody turn that radio down?” Hearing her disoriented words, he frowned and recoiled slightly. Having arrived on the scene after her incident was already in progress, he did not know how long she had been engaged with her attacker.

Having seen similar situations before, he understood that the attacker had been a vampire and had telepathically imposed its will on her. His experience also told him that the imposition of the vampire’s will could have permanently damaged her mind.

He, too, had the ability to enter peoples’ minds, and might be able to repair any damage done by the monster, but he also knew that for him to enter her consciousness uninvited could cause damage as bad as or worse than the vampire’s telepathy.

If her mind were damaged, he did not want to risk making it worse; if her mind was not damaged, he did not want to risk causing harm.

He judged, nonetheless, that it would be safe for him to examine her outermost thoughts, those thoughts not requiring any deep probing to perceive. As he “listened” to her still disoriented thoughts, he “heard” the sorts of things he expected; her name, where she lived, and other routine personal information.

One image in her mind, however, caused him to stiffen, clench his fists, and gasp, “Polidori!

I don’t believe it! Joswieac’s here!”

When he saw Shelley’s memory of her attacker, he recognized the vampire as a thrall of a master vampire named Stanislaus Joswieac. He had a very personal vendetta againstJoswieac and had been pursuing him for many years.

The thought of once again confronting his most hated adversary caused his mind to drift back over a century to their last encounter.

It happened in what is today known as Chechnya. He was involved in trying to root out a supernatural influence in the Russian power structure, and passed through the area. On a day of no particular significance, he saw a peasant man working in a field, and asked him for directions. The man went out of his way to be helpful, and, as it was early evening, invited the traveler to his home for supper. After some prodding by the man, he accepted the offer.

The man took him to his simple cabin and introduced him to his wife and three daughters. After sharing supper, the man insisted on giving him lodging for the night. The next morning, he thanked the man and his family, discreetly tucked some gold coins into the bedding, and went on his way.

Several days later, in Moscow, there was a knock, late at night, on his hotel room door.

Opening the door, he found a bellman leaning against the door frame with a glazed stare in his eyes. Abruptly, the bellman fell limp on the floor revealing a dagger stuck in his back with a note on it.

He checked the lifeless bellman for a pulse. Finding none, he removed the note which he discovered was written in blood.

His eyes grew wide, his nostrils flared, and his breathing sped up as he read, “Where were you when your friends in Chechnya needed you? How many more will you cause to die? You’re powerless to stop me.”Although the note was unsigned, he knew who wrote it. He snarled, “Joswieac!” He immediately saddled his horse and rode hard to the peasant man’s house in Chechnya.

When he entered the home, he gasped and fell, doubled over, on his knees. He saw the man tied to a post with both arms and legs broken, disemboweled with his throat cut. Elsewhere in the room were the wife and two of the daughters, also disemboweled with their throats cut. There was blood everywhere, dried puddles on the floor, stains on the furniture, and smears all over the walls. Human entrails were scattered all about. The house reeked with the stench of death and resonated with the buzzing of flies.

He managed to stand, his eyes unfocused and his hand covering his mouth, They were still alive when they were gutted. Wait! The other girl! Where’s the other girl?

He ran outside and frantically searched for the third daughter, hoping that, somehow, she might have been spared.

What he found was worse than what he had just seen.

The third daughter who looked around twelve years old, was meandering nonchalantly outside. Thinking her to be in shock, he directed her to a bench on the front porch.

As he situated her on the bench, she spoke in a monotone, “They came in the house. One of them tied Papa to a post and broke his arms and legs with his bare hands. They forced Papa to watch as the bald one cut Beliita and Maali open and pulled out their insides. Then he did the same thing to Mama. When he was finished, he cut Papa’s throat.

He began to sweat and tremble as the girl told her story, but stiffened and gasped in horror at what she said next, “The bald one had come to the door earlier, and Papa invited him in, but he just left. Then he came back with the others. They just appeared out of nowhere, and they were so strong; they pushed Papa around like a toy. They tore my mother and sisters apart with their bare hands.

“It was wonderful. I was afraid, but he let me drink his blood, and I felt so much better. It’s like I fell asleep, and then, when I woke up I was strong and understood that there wasn’t anything to fear and how unimportant people like my family really are. I realized what a beautiful thing I had seen.”Her last words told him that he would have to do something as awful as the massacre that the girl had witnessed. He looked at her and attempted to probe her mind, and found that he could not read her thoughts. That confirmed his worst fear; she was a vampire.

Trembling even worse, he turned his head, vomited, and slammed his fist through a wall.

Thoughts that he loathed filled his mind, Damn Joswieac! It knows what it’s forced me into. How many times is this going to happen? Do I have to shun contact with everybody?

I’ve seen it a hundred times, and it’s still hard to imagine the depth of this evil. I can’t believe how such a beautiful little girl can so quickly become a soulless monster. Somehow, I’ve got to stop it; I’ve got to get Joswieac.

But now I’ve got to...

He could only deal with this terrible knowledge by denying it a place in his conscious mind.

For a moment, he stood rigid, shut his eyes, and breathed in a very deliberate way. Now in the Vipassana state, his awareness steeled itself against its own understanding. He moved mechanically; his consciousness somewhere else; his body driven by instinct.

Without the touch of his hand, his sword drew from its sheath. While he held the girl in place without touching her, the blade slashed across her neck. Her head dropped and rolled across the floor as her body collapsed.

The glaze disappeared from his eyes, and he dropped to the floor, drawing his arms and legs in tight to his body, and lay motionless and whimpering for a long time.

Finally he roused, as a grim realization imposed itself on him, If not for me this family would still be alive. All I can do now is bury these poor people. I can’t keep causing innocent people to be the victims of Joswieac’s cruelty. I don’t know how much longer I can endure this.

As the recollection of this and other atrocities burned in his mind, awareness of the present situation began pushing the memories aside, Joswieac’s been laying low for a long time, but, apparently, it’s decided to come back out in the open. I’m going to get it this time; if I don’t, there’s no telling when I’ll have another chance; there’s no telling how much more horror it’ll unleash.

Turning his attention to the injured policewoman, he decided that the best way to deal with her situation would be simply to tell her what happened, and hope that rekindling her memory would bring her back to coherence without any intervention by him.

Since he planned eventually to erase any memory of himself or the incident from her mind, he figured that there was nothing to lose in telling her the truth.

Offering her more water, he spoke softly, but firmly, “You may find this hard to believe, but you were attacked by a vampire.”

“What!” she exclaimed. “That’s crazy. What are you talking about?”

Again, in a very calm and self assured way, he replied, “I know it sounds crazy, but think about what you experienced; what you saw and felt. Look around you. Things have happened that have no explanations that are rational as you understand the word. Why not trust me until you’ve had time to reflect on what’s happened?”

She hesitated while looking around, “What happened with my windshield? It’s stuck over there. And just who the hell are you” He replied, “I did that. I’m sorry. I’ll get it fixed for you. I had to use it because I needed something to take that creature out before it hurt you, and there wasn’t anything else around that would work.”

She shook her head and put her hands on her cheeks, “I can’t believe any of this. And, again, just who the fuck are you? Where did you come from? Why are you here?”

A smile spread across his face, “I know this is an awful lot of unbelievable stuff, and I’m probably not doing a very good job of explaining it. Let’s start over. Here, let me help you up.”

He stood up, leaned over, and extended his hand. She reached up and took it. For the first time, she took note of his appearance.

He was a little taller than average with longish, scruffy, light brown hair. He was very muscular, and appeared to be in his thirties, but his most striking feature was his eyes; one was blue and the other was green. He wore dark cargo pants, black Viet Nam boots, and a dark shirt with a Roman collar with the buttons on one shoulder.

When she took his hand, she jerked and smiled slightly. His touch added to the her confusion, Who is this guy with his cock and bull story? I should get the hell away from him as fast as I can. But, something about him seems real. He doesn’t strike me as a nut or a bullshit artist, and hedid save my life, I’ll listen to what else he’s got to say.

He helped her steady herself, and gave her the water bottle again, “Here, you keep this.

“The reason that you’re feeling woozy is that the vampire imposed its will into your mind and clouded your consciousness. They have the ability to control people, and your mind hasn’t yet cleared itself completely of what it forced on you.

“The good news is that it didn’t have time to do much, and you should be OK in an hour or so. When they’re able to really get into someone’s head, they can cause severe anxiety and disorientation, but usually if it gets to that point, you’re dead, anyway. They’re predators that prey on people, and if you’re around one of them for long, you wind up dead. But, I’m getting ahead of myself.”His real name was unknown and meaningless to almost all people. Those few who ever knew about his existence called him many things including Seeker of the Sun, Child of Time,

Counterbalance, Eidolon, and, among vampires, the Dayfeeder.

This time, he introduced himself as Lathan Devers, “I’m very glad to meet you. I wish we could have met under more pleasant circumstances, but your acquaintance is my pleasure, nonetheless.

Anyway, the thing I just killed was a vampire; that’s right, a blood sucking, living dead, creature of the night; just like the legends. You can call them verdillacs, nosferatu, strigoi, or vampires, but, regardless, they’re real.”She interrupted, “Wait. Stop with the vampire stuff for a minute. Don’t you want to know my name?” He replied, “I’m sorry; your name is Shelley. Isn’t it?”

“How did you know that?” she asked as a frown spread across her face.

“It’s something that you’re sending out in your thoughts all the time. Receiving that kind of thought energy is so ordinary for me that it causes me to forget my manners, but I promise you,I haven’t entered your mind, and I’ll explain all of that in a minute.

“Anyway, about the vampire. Most people think that they are just myth. I expect that group would have included you a little while ago, but, being the good detective that you are, you have a differentpoint of view now, having just experienced proof that they exist.

“Peoples’ disbelief in them is one of their most important survival strategies; if no one thinks they exist, then no one comes looking for them. They try to keep their numbers down and maintain a low profile.”Her eyes narrowed and focused on him, “How did you know about the one that I ran into?” He smiled, “I didn’t. That was just luck. I was here, just like you, because of the reports of animal attacks. As I said, they maintain a low profile. One of the things that means is that when they kill, they want everybody to believe that the death has a normal explanation. Animal attacks, accidents, war, or complete disappearances are the kinds of tactics they use. Over the years, I’ve learned to recognize those tactics, and was drawn here, like you, because I’m suspicious of animal attacks when no animal is seen or caught. If you hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t have known that the creature that attacked you was here.

“Seeing it, ’though, tells me that I’m looking in the right place for another one that I want even more. How are you feeling now?”