 
Avenging Autumn

Seasons Change Series: Book 1 of 4

By

Derek A. Schneider

Smashwords Edition

  * Copyright 2008 Derek A. Schneider. All rights reserved

Smashwords Edition, License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

ISBN:978-1-4343-7522-3 (sc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2008903457

1. Autumn Leaves

October, 2006

Autumn Writeman was leaving work late once again.

She stepped through the double doors of the Write-man Bank building and into the cool night air. Fall had finally come to Indiana with the suddenness of a snapping twig under silent footfalls, in an October that had been unusually warm up to that point. It was less than two weeks until Halloween and it had been so warm that the leaves were late in turning. This night however, the trees were bright and colorful even in the dark and the bank parking lot was littered with foliage that sped across the pavement making a scraping sound that might make some cringe, but Autumn found it beautiful.

A smile touched her lips at the thought of the im-pending holiday, and her husband's childlike excitement as the night of tricks and treats approached. Benjamin Writeman (Benny to his friends) not only loved Halloween, he was also very fond of the time of year. He even managed to find a girl named Autumn to marry.

Multi-colored leaves raced around her feet in the breeze and she was suddenly hit with a parade of childhood memories. Jumping in a pile of leaves her father had just raked up, helping her mother carve a jack-o'-lantern, going trick or treat dressed as Princess Lea, or Casper the friendly ghost, or Dracula's bride. She supposed that she loved fall just as much as Benny.

Standing next to her car door, Autumn began the nightly ritual of digging through her purse in search of her keys. Benny often made fun of her inability to throw things out, though she often complained that he threw out too much.

Just as her hand closed around her keys a strange feeling came over her, as if just for a moment, it was well into winter rather than mid fall. She shivered hard and suddenly, a rapid flapping sound forced a slight scream from her throat. Turning quickly she scanned the area and saw nothing but the empty parking spaces behind her. Moving faster now, she slid the key into the door of the little black pickup and got behind the wheel, quickly closing and locking the door behind her. Autumn hated leaving work at night. The parking lot (and the building too, now that she thought about it) always gave her a creepy feeling that she couldn't explain. However, working late was a common occurrence this time of year, with Christ-mas shopping right around the corner. Of course that wouldn't be a problem had she not been demoted two months ago, but the bills had to be paid and Benny hadn't sold any paintings lately.

The truck belonged to Benny, a little Mitsubishi that's been through hell but just keeps on running anyway. Her car, which was only three years old, was in the shop once again. And of course, every time she did have a problem with her car, he would say the same thing; "I told you not to buy American." He had told her this, but for some reason she couldn't remember, she hadn't listened.

She keyed the ignition, threw the transmission into drive, and pulled out of the parking lot. Soon afterward, Au-tumn had forgotten about the strange feeling that came over her and began singing loudly with the Dead Poetic CD Benny had left in the stereo. In their younger days, Benny and Au-tumn were what some people would call "Gothic", and al-though their taste in music hasn't changed a lot, the way they dressed and the way they thought about the world had changed immensely. After all, you can't wear black eye makeup and lipstick along with buckle covered clothing if you're going to be a "Financial Assistant" for a major bank and loan.

She kept the black hair, though the clothing and make up were reserved for concerts and parties. Benny, for the most part, didn't change much over the years. He kept the black hair as well, and wore it shoulder length, often hiding most of his face to give people the impression he was a brooding artist. In truth, he was a kind hearted joker that liked to keep his romantic side just between them.

She pulled into the driveway of their old, two story house and shifted the little black truck into park. Getting out she smiled again as she looked out at the Halloween decora-tions that Benny had put on the front lawn at the beginning of October (the indoor decorations were put out in late August).

There was the white sheet stuffed with old clothes and tied to a tree to resemble a floating ghost. There was the plastic skeleton lounging in a lawn chair and looking as if he'd had a few too many martinis. As she stepped onto the porch she noticed the shadowy ghoul that stood by the tree and...stopping in her tracks, she stared at the dark figure in confusion.

"That wasn't there before," she said softly to herself. She opened the door and started to call inside for Benny, then remembered he was out shooting pool with his brother.

She looked back at the dark ghoul for a moment and wondered if Benny had gone out and bought more decora-tions. Turning to walk into the house, her attention was imme-diately returned to the dark figure when she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye.

The ghoul was now walking toward her.

Autumn ran inside the house and locked the door behind her. Her heavy breathing was the only sound in the chilly darkness of the home. After a few minutes, Autumn edged toward the window and peeked through the curtain. The ghoul was gone. Was he ever really there at all?

She was tired, very tired, and coming home to an empty house always made her feel a little jumpy anyhow. She took a few calming breaths and then walked down the hall to the kitchen. Flipping the light switch up, she began to step toward the fridge before she realized the light hadn't come on. She tried the switch again, and twice more after that. Still no lights.

Looking around the room she noticed the microwave clock was dark, and the absence of that familiar refrigerator hum made the entire house seem as quiet as a graveyard at midnight.

Movement caught her eye from the doorway to the dining room on the opposite side of the kitchen. It was the dark figure from the front lawn, the ghoul with the red eyes shining out from his deeply shadowed face. Had she noticed his eyes before? She couldn't remember, at that moment eve-rything seemed dreamlike and hazy.

Autumn turned and took two steps toward the door but froze when she saw that the man had somehow moved fast enough through the living room to block her escape. Without thinking, she darted up the stairs, ran down the hallway and locked herself in her room. As she ducked behind the bed, she reached beneath it and almost immediately found the wooden baseball bat that Benny kept there for just this type of situation.

She laid there for a long moment with the bat held tight against her chest, listening for any sound from outside her door, but no sound came. Slowly, she got to her feet and peered out the window. There was no movement on the lawn, besides the Halloween decorations blowing slightly in the wind. She could see the Mitsubishi sitting in the driveway like a distant beacon of hope that seems impossibly out of reach. Oh, how she longed to be in that truck right now. She won-dered if she could drop from the window without breaking a limb, and if so could she make it to the truck without being seen, or at least caught by the stranger?

Suddenly, she heard the noise she had been waiting for, only it didn't come from outside the room, but from the dark corner across from her. Slowly, she turned and looked in the corner to see the same red eyes staring out at her from the shadow. A whimper escaped her lips as she brought the base-ball bat up into a swing position.

The man finally stepped out of the shadows and Autumn was amazed to see that he was not a dark ghoul at all, but quite the opposite. His skin was very pale, his hair was long, falling mid way down his back, unnaturally straight and so blond it was nearly white. He was wearing a light grey suit that looked very expensive and in his right hand he bore a cane that appeared to be used for more of a decoration than any visible handicap. He walked over to Autumn and stopped two feet away from her, meeting her gaze with his calm, ra-diant, red eyes.

"What?" Autumn whispered, the baseball bat waver-ing uncertainly in her hands, "What do you want?"

The man only continued to stare at her, showing no emotion on his face.

Autumn began to feel very calm, and very sleepy. The bat fell from her hands with a loud clunk as it hit the hard wood floor. She felt lost in his eyes, those bottomless red eyes. She had never felt so relaxed in her life.

The man slowly raised the cane, resting the lower end in his left hand. The handle looked to be silver and was crafted into the shape of an Asian dragon. Wrapping around the hilt was a giant serpent that came up to meet the dragon face to face, as if some epic battle was about to begin between the two. Then, gently, he pulled on the handle and the cane came apart to reveal a long blade that was hidden within. He raised the blade high and paused for a moment, then brought it down across Autumn's throat.

Seconds later, Autumn died.

2. Fall Arrives

It was 1995. Benny was eighteen and had just re-turned home for the Christmas holiday after spending the last few months in Indianapolis attending Herron Art School. Aa-ron Trotter was the little brother of a friend Benny had had in high school and on his second day home, Benny received a call from Aaron who was looking for a ride to a girl's house. Benny reluctantly agreed to give him the ride and soon the two of them were near the southwest edge of Triloville.

"Okay," Aaron said as they exited the car (which was an 86 Cavalier hatchback at that time), "I really like this girl so try not to make a fool of yourself."

Benny took a moment to reflect on the countless times he and Aaron's older brother, Robert had been forced by Ma and Pa Trotter to drag the baby brother around with them everywhere they went, and how 99.9% of the time Aaron was the one who had made a fool of himself. "I'll try to behave," he replied sarcastically.

At this time in his life, although the trend was going out of style, Benny was in full grunge attire. The holey jeans, flannel shirt, and long, unkempt, dirty blond hair (which would later become black).

The house was an old ranch that was covered with fading red bricks and deteriorating roofing shingles and for the rest of his life, for reasons unknown, he would often think of the Christmas lights that hung lazily from the gutters, spiraling down the single post of the covered porch.

Aaron pulled the screen door open and knocked on the worn wood of the front door. They stood there waiting in the cold for the door to open, but it appeared no one was home.

"Did she know we were coming?" Benny asked

"Yeah, I called and told her."

"You called ahead and told her you were coming and she left before you got here? That's not a good sign, my man."

Aaron suddenly looked very worried and then pro-ceeded to knock harder. "She's here, I know she is."

Benny opened his mouth to toss another verbal jab at his friend, but was cut off by the opening door. What greeted them was a seventeen year old Autumn Sanders and Benny was instantly smitten. Her hair was long and fiery red and rested against her pale skin like the burning sky at sunset in winter. She was wearing a Marilyn Manson shirt that looked to be two sizes too big, but draped pleasingly over her ample bosom.

Benny's taste in music was beginning to change at that point, moving from old favorites like Pearl Jam and Soundgarden, to some heavier bands he had heard lately like; Korn and Deftones, but he had yet to hear anything from Ma-rilyn Manson. He had always held to the notion that The Smashing Pumpkins were the greatest rock band ever and that would not change for the rest of his life.

The visit was short but it didn't take long for Benny to deduce that Autumn had no interest in getting romantically involved with Aaron. This was a great relief for Benny.

Triloville is an excellent town to visit in the fall, with its rolling tree covered hills and adjacency to Hoosier National Park in southern Indiana, any leaf gazers would be in heaven. The population sits at a little over 3000, but that number is projected to grow in the next few years due to several housing editions that have popped up recently and the car assembly plant that was being built about twenty miles away from the center of town.

This particular Saturday morning was overcast and cold, yet the colors of the leaves somehow seemed brighter to Benny than any he had ever seen. He's not sure exactly why he noticed this detail at the very moment his wife was lowered into the ground, but he couldn't help thinking that she would love this day. To others it would seem dreary or sad, but that's the way she liked things. It was the way they both liked things.

By that logic, however, it only stands to reason that he should have been happy that day, because he felt so sad. It doesn't work that way.

Maybe the leaves weren't as bright as he perceived them to be; perhaps the tears in his eyes were distorting his vision.

The coffin reached the bottom of the hole that was to be Autumn's final resting place, and one by one all of her friends and family picked a black rose (Autumn's favorite flower) from one of the many bouquets surrounding the grave and dropped them in after her. Benny stood from his chair after everyone else had offered their condolences and returned to their cars. He pulled a black rose from the last few that remained and held it over the coffin. He hesitated a moment. Then, Instead of dropping it, he carefully placed it in the lapel of his suit. He didn't know why he did it exactly, but he suspected if he dropped his rose in, it might symbolize letting her go, and he could never do that. After some time, he forced himself to turn away from the grave and walked back to the limo his father had rented and climbed inside.

Benny's father, Frank, and his brother, Jack, sat across from him in silence for the trip back to Frank's house, where a sort of after funeral gathering was being held. Of course Frank's house was quite large and could comfortably hold the thirty or so people that attended. Frank Writeman was the owner of the small chain of Writeman's Savings and Loans banks that were found throughout the mid west, the very same bank Autumn had worked for. Although Frank rarely stayed at the over sized house anymore, he often slept on a couch at his office building, of course no one knew of this but his oldest son, Jack.

Frank looked at Benny as if he was searching for something comforting to say, but instead let out a deep sigh and slumped his broad shoulders. Benny noticed that his fa-ther's thinning hair and neatly trimmed beard was much whi-ter than the last time he had seen him, but he was still in re-markable shape for his age.

Jack Writeman was the owner of the Writeman Fu-neral Home, located right in the middle of Triloville, Indiana, which by the way, had done a beautiful job with Autumn's funeral. A sharp contrast to his brother, Jack was shorter, broader, and kept his sandy blond hair short and neat, and his handsome face was always clean shaven, as his job required it. Even though Jack arranged funerals for a living, it was rare to see him in such low spirits. He's usually a joker and a great drinking buddy, and Benny could only remember one other time he had seen him so down, that was at their mother's fu-neral.

The limo pulled up to the Old Man's house (Benny and Jack had taken to calling Frank the Old Man even though he was only fifty-six) and the three men climbed out. Frank walked to the front door, pulled his key from his pocket and walked inside to make sure everything was prepared for the guests.

"Benny," Jack called as Benny started up the porch, "wait up a minute, I want to talk to you."

Benny walked quietly back toward the car.

"Uh...look, Benny," Jack started, "I-I, umm sorry about...well you know, about Autumn," he let out a deep sigh, "man, I am so bad at this shit."

"Really?" Benny asked sarcastically, "Maybe you should have picked a different line of work."

"C'mon, that's not what I mean. I can run a line of bullshit with complete strangers, even shed a tear or two if I try real hard, but you're my brother and Autumn was one of my best friends. I just hope that you were pleased with the service, I did my best to make sure everything went alright."

"It was great, Jack," Benny said with a grin, "every-thing was beautiful. Thanks."

"Yeah, well, it was an honor," Jack returned through misting eyes. He cleared his throat and continued, "Listen, after the squares leave, you can meet me on the back porch. I rolled a special fatty just for you."

"I'll be there, man," Benny turned and walked back to the front door.

Inside, he was greeted by the usual assortment of aunts and uncles, giving him there condolences and advice on how to put this tragic event behind him. Just when he thought he couldn't stand anymore of it, he was able to sneak away upstairs to his father's study and get a chance to clear his mind.

Forty five minutes later, Frank Writeman opened the door and poked his head inside to find Benny sitting on the window seat, staring out at the trees on the lawn.

"There you are," Frank said. "Leaves are beautiful, aren't they?"

"Yeah, Dad, they look great." Benny answered quiet-ly.

"Everyone is starting to leave, do you want to come down and say goodbye?"

"Not really."

"That's alright, I'm sure they'll understand," with a sigh, Frank sat down next to Benny, "Son, I want you to know if you need to talk about this, I'm here for you. I know exactly what you're going trough and I-"

"How the fuck could you know what I'm going through," Benny shouted angrily, "Mom wasn't murdered."

"That's not what I meant," Frank yelled, matching Benny's anger. He took a deep breath to calm himself, "I'm just saying I lost the woman I loved the same as you. Whether by cancer or a killer's hand, they're both gone, so if you need any help with this, you just let me know."

Benny returned his gaze to the window without a word. Frank stood up and walked toward the door.

"Dad," Benny said suddenly, Frank turned back to his son from the doorway and could see he was crying now, "It hurts so bad, will it ever stop."

Frank looked down at the floor, as if searching for the right answer, then looked up and said grimly; "No, it won't. It will always hurt, right up to the very moment you take your last breath. Hell, Benny, I've even heard of people dying from the loss of the person they love. The stress is so great it actually weakens the heart. Do you think that's going to happen to you?"

Turning back to the window, Benny sighed and said; "I hope so."

Frank found his comment a little disturbing, but felt anything else he could say would only make Benny feel worse. Instead, he turned and walked out of the study without another word.

Thirty minutes later, most of the guest had left and Benny walked out to the back porch to find Jack sitting in a rocking chair.

"Hey," Jack said when the door opened, "Dad was looking for you."

"Yeah, he found me," Benny returned, "and we had a little talk."

"Oh yeah, how did that go?"

"Well, you know the Old Man, always painfully hon-est."

Jack only nodded in response to this, he knew that their father was about as blunt as a lead pipe. Frank wasn't just his name it was his way of life.

Benny took a seat on the chair beside Jack's, and Jack produced a large joint from the breast pocket of his jack-et.

"Jesus, that is a fatty," Benny stated.

"Yeah," Jack said with a proud smile, "Northern Lights with a little skunk thrown in for good measure."

"Wow! The good shit, huh?"

"Only the best for my baby brother," Jack brought out a lighter and lit the end of the joint, inhaled, then passed it to Benny.

"I know it's kind of soon to bring this up," Jack said through smoke filled lungs, "but, have you considered what you're going to do now? I mean whenever you're ready to start dating again, I know a lot of girls."

"I don't know, Jack, I don't think I'll ever be ready."

"Well, I know you feel that way now, but eventually you're going to want some companionship. There are a lot of girls out there, Benny, a lot of other chances for you to find love."

"That will never happen again," Benny said with certainty.

"What, love?" Jack asked. Benny nodded his head, "Man, I can't even remember how many women I've loved, or at least told I loved so I could get in their panties."

"I remember exactly how many it's been for me."

"Okay, how many?"

Benny took another drag off the joint, "Just one."

"Seriously?"

"Those three words are words I take very seriously, you know. I've had a lot of girlfriends and I've had sex with a few others as well, but I never felt love for any of them, so I never told any of them I loved them. Not until Autumn. With her it was easy to say because I meant it, I could really feel it. We had so much in common and I felt so lonely until she came along. Even when I was in other relationships, I always had this sense of crushing loneliness. I'm sure that sounds a little dramatic to you, but I don't know how else to describe it. No, I know for a fact I will never love another woman."

Jack looked sternly back at Benny and said, "So, does that mean you like guys now?"

"No, you fucking idiot," Benny answered, giggling through his marijuana induced buzz.

"I'm sorry, man," Jack returned, "That's cool. I envy you really, I sure as hell never felt that way about a woman. I guess that's true love."

"Yeah, I guess it is."

Benny and Jack finished smoking the joint in silence as they watched the sky turn purple from the sunset, until Benny finally stood up and spoke, "I got to go, Jack."

"Where you going?"

"I'm going to go back to the house and get some clothes and stuff."

"Alright, are you going to stay with me again to-night?"

"Of course."

"Cool, you want me to go with you?"

"No, I'll be okay. Meet you back at your place later, okay?"

"That's cool. Hurry back, we'll watch Empire or Jedi before we go to bed."

"Count me in."

Benny walked into the house and found his father sitting by the fireplace.

"Hey, Dad, I'm going. I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry for yelling earlier."

"That's okay, son," Frank's gruff voice answered. "I'll be at the office later, if you need anything don't hesitate to give me a call."

Frank stood and walked Benny to the door.

"Thanks for everything, Dad."

"Don't mention it," The Old Man hugged his son and Benny thought it must have been years since he'd felt those large arms around him. "You know, Benny, sometimes part of being in love is watching someone die, but, hopefully we'll see them again in whatever lies beyond this life."

"And who will watch me die?" Benny said seriously, "For that matter, who's going to watch you die?"

Frank shrugged, "Well, we still got each other."

A sharp laugh escaped Benny's mouth, the effects of the weed still lingering. "Yeah, I suppose we do."

"Drive carefully, son."

Benny walked out into the cool night air and climbed behind the wheel of his little black truck. He turned the key and waited for the CD in the stereo to start. The band was Bright Eyes. They were much mellower than he was used to, but he liked them all the same.

"Man, I'm getting old," he said to himself. He shifted the gear stick into drive and went home for the last time.

He pulled into the driveway of his house and saw the Halloween decorations on the lawn; the things that once brought him so much joy now only caused a sting of sorrow in his chest. Stepping out of the truck, he scanned the area fear-ing that he would find Autumn's killer had returned to the scene and at the same time hoping he would find the fiend and catch him off guard.

Walking up to the front door, the gruesome memories of that night flashed into his mind with every step he took. Her limp body on the floor. The large pool of blood that sur-rounded her. Pausing at the door to gather one last bit of cou-rage, he tore the crime scene tape away, and walked inside.

A hard breeze blew the leaves around the yard and Benny heard the old familiar creaks and moans the house always made, like the long dead branches on an ancient oak tree. He remembered how those creaks and moans had often made Autumn feel uneasy in the middle of the night, causing her to move up against him while they were lying in bed. He remembered the warmth of her body, and how good it felt to wrap his arms around her, giving her every assurance that she was safe with him. He knew at that moment, if he closed his eyes and concentrated hard enough he would be able to feel the rise and fall of her stomach as she breathed.

He missed her so much.

He walked upstairs and into their bedroom, where they had made love on countless occasions. The room where she was killed. The blood stain on the floor had faded slightly, the chalk outline, however, had not.

Looking away quickly, he walked toward the closet. The door was already opened, and the chain to the attic dan-gled in front of him. He pulled the chain, reached up to catch the ladder as it slid down, and climbed up to find the beat up old shoe box that had sat there; untouched for the entire five years they had lived in the house.

If Autumn would have known about the shoe box and its contents she would have never approved, though it may have saved her life that night.

A few minutes later, he was back downstairs sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the box. Slowly, he pulled the lid off and set it aside. Pulling some tissue paper aside with his left hand, he stuck his right hand inside and lifted the revolver out of its hiding place. The gun felt heavy in his hand, but it calmed him. This was the remedy for all his pain. He picked up one bullet and loaded it into the chamber, then put the barrel to his temple and closed his eyes.

At that moment he heard a sound come from the front door.

"Hello?" he said standing up. He looked down the hallway and saw a shadowy figure silhouetted against the open front doorway. Suddenly, he felt his stomach turn and his heart rate increased dramatically.

Thumbing back the hammer on the gun, he asked with a shaky voice; "Who are you?"

The figure started to walk down the hall. Benny be-gan to back up.

When the dark figure emerged from the shadows into the light of the kitchen, the revolver fell from Benny's hand and he gaped at her in stunned silence.

Though it was hard to do, he swallowed, and found the voice to utter one word.

"Autumn?"

3. Benny's Quest

It was 1996. Benny was home from school for Spring break and he and Jack had been dragged to a play at the Triloville High School. Debbie Hendershot was a girl Jack had had an on again off again relationship with for the last two years and it just so happened that her younger sister was in drama class and had won one of the lead parts in the play. Although the play had been highly regarded by critics, (at least that was what the billboard in front of the auditorium said) Benny and Jack still found it to be painfully boring.

Intermission finally came, much to the relief of the Writeman brothers, and the two of them went outside with Debbie so she could smoke.

"Isn't it a great play," Debbie squealed, "Jenny is doing so well. We're going to stay for the second act right?"

"Gee, I'd really like to," Jack answered with fake regret, "but, I have got to get home so Benny can stick hot safety pins in my pupils in the hopes that the pain will erase the memory of the last hour and a half of my life."

Benny burst out laughing at this, which caused Deb-bie to give both of them the evil eye. She threw her cigarette down and stormed back into the auditorium.

"Man, I have had it with that bitch," Jack said.

"Hey, there is some suspicious activity going on in the parking lot," Benny stated, pointing to a group of teenag-ers who were huddled between two cars. "You want to go check it out?"

"Sure!"

The brothers walked across the lot and found exactly what they had suspected; a circle with two joints being passed in opposite directions.

"Mind if we join?" Benny asked. Every one's eyes turned to Jack with his neat hair and clean appearance.

"Are you a narc?" One of the guys asked.

"A narc?" Jack said, clearly offended at the notion. "I am a weed aficionado my friend."

"I know you," a girl's voice spoke up.

Benny turned and found the lovely face of Autumn Sanders staring up at him. He couldn't help the smile that spread over his lips.

"Autumn!" he blurted out.

"You remembered."

"How could I forget? It's my favorite time of year."

"Who's the narc?"

"This is my brother Jack. Despite his outward ap-pearance I can assure you; he is no narc. As a matter of fact, he's probably the biggest pothead I know."

"Please, Benny, your making me blush," Jack inter-jected with a sheepish grin. He shook Autumn's hand and after introductions were made all around, jack produced a bag of joints of his own. "Two joints is an appetizer for this seasoned veteran."

Soon the two brothers had made fast friends with everyone in the group, and by the end of the night, with Deb-bie Hendershot and her little sister's meandering play com-pletely forgotten, Benny found himself in the corner of Jack's living room getting to know the girl that would eventually become his wife.

"Hello, Benny," the dead girl said with a smile.

Slowly, Benny reached out and put the palm of his hand on Autumn's face. Her ice cold skin told him he wasn't dreaming, "Is it really you? Are you really here?"

"Yes, baby, it's me."

Benny then fell to his knees, wrapped his arms around Autumn's waist, and began to weep uncontrollably.

"Shush, it's alright, sweetie, I'm back," Autumn con-soled her husband for a few minutes more, and then said; "I don't have a great deal of time and there are some very important things I have to tell you."

"Okay," Benny said as he stood up and dried his eyes. "How much time do you have?"

"We'll get to that in a moment. First, I have a very important question to ask you."

"What is it?"

"Did you pick out this dress?"

Benny looked surprised by this, "I thought you liked that dress."

"Are you kidding? I've always hated this thing."

"But, you were always showing it to anyone that came over and you'd gloat about how your Aunt Clair had made it for you for Christmas."

"That doesn't mean I like it. It certainly doesn't mean I want to be buried in it."

Benny smiled, "Well, I was going to bury it anyway, figured I might as well kill two birds with one stone."

With that, Autumn threw her head back and laughed loudly, and just like that, it was as if they had never been apart.

After the laughter had ceased, Autumn stood on her tip toes and kissed Benny on the cheek. "Let's go upstairs," she said, "I want to change into something more comfortable. Besides, this thing got really dirty while I was crawling out of my grave."

The oddness of her last sentence struck Benny with fresh laughter. It didn't help that he still wasn't quite down from the joint he had smoked with Jack earlier.

Man, that was some good shit, Benny thought as his dead wife led him up the stairs. He also began to wonder if the weed could have been laced with something else.

Benny sat down on the bed while Autumn undressed and got into the shower, the whole time wondering if he was dreaming all this, or if maybe he'd gone completely insane. Soon, the shower stopped and Autumn stepped out. Benny stared at her naked, wet body as she toweled off. She was always pale, but now her skin seemed like it was almost solid white, as if you could see how cold it would feel to the touch. His eyes followed the curve of her thigh and up to her large breasts. How he longed to touch her in those places that only he had known for the past ten years. His eyes met hers and she smiled at him as she began to brush her thick black hair and he noticed how much darker they were, where before she had to apply heavy eye make up to get the same effect.

Then he saw the ugly wound in her throat like a se-cret, second mouth that suddenly had the urge to tell the entire world of its existence. He looked away quickly, his chest filling with red hot rage and crushing sorrow.

Autumn took notice of this and said; "I'm sorry. Here, I'll cover it up."

She walked across the room to the closet, pulled out a red and black, plaid scarf, and tied it around her neck, covering the cut.

"Better?" she asked.

"Much. Thank you."

After pulling on a pair of black, silk panties and a matching bra, Autumn began to explain why she had arisen from the grave.

"I know you want to be with me, Benny, but killing yourself won't work."

"Then, what can I do?"

"Well, first things first, you have to make sure I'm able to rest in peace," she pulled red and black striped stock-ings over her legs. Autumn noticed the way Benny was staring at her. "There will be time for that later, you naughty boy.

"Anyway, I guess I'm what you would call a restless spirit."

"So you're a ghost?" Benny asked while trying to calm himself.

"Not exactly, I'm in my own body, but my body is no longer alive."

"Then you're a zombie."

"Kinda, only I'm capable of coherent thought, and I don't have a craving for brains or human flesh, you know?"

"Do you have a craving for anything?" Benny in-quired, wondering if she could still eat.

"Well, yeah, but like I said, we'll have time for that later."

Benny smiled and felt his pants tighten once again.

"Zip me up," Autumn said after pulling a lacy, black, dress over her head. Benny zipped her up and realized her outfit was one of her favorite's to wear at concerts and parties.

"Ah, the 'Gothic French Maid' outfit," he said.

"Yeah, try to control yourself," she sat down beside him on the bed and her look became serious, "You have to do something for me before I can rest in peace."

"What is it?"

"You have to avenge me."

"Then we can be together?"

"When you die I'll be waiting on the other side for you, but only if I'm avenged and only if you wait until it's your time. No suicide. Will you avenge my death?"

"Of course I will," Benny said without hesitation.

She leaned in and gave him a long kiss. Her lips were as cold as an arctic wind.

"Thank you, Benny."

"How long do we have?"

"Maybe a week," she said sadly, "Keep in mind, I am still dead and my body will continue to suffer the effects of decomposition."

"How can I find the man that killed you within a week?"

"Actually, there are six people responsible for my death, and finding them will be easy. I can sense them."

"What do you mean?"

"Its like a telepathic thing, I know exactly where they are right at this moment."

"Great," Benny said excitedly, "I'll go downstairs, grab my gun, and we'll go take care of these rotten fucks right away."

"I don't think it's going to be that easy Benny. I can also sense that these guys are extremely dangerous, and your father probably knows why."

"My father?"

"Yes, we should go see him, but first we're going to need help. If you kill these six people many others will at-tempt to kill you."

"Okay, we'll go see Jack, and then we'll go talk to Dad."

They packed some extra clothes into an old army nap sack they had bought at a yard sale a few summers before and, after changing into a pair of cargo pants and an old Mudvayne shirt, Benny grabbed his gun, piled everything into the Mitsubishi, and they hit the road. As they drove, Benny thought about what Autumn had said; about her body being dead, and decomposition affecting it. Suddenly, the idea of getting intimate with her was becoming less, and less attractive.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, fine," he had to think of something else. "So, what's with the telepathy thing, can you read my mind and shit like that?"

"No, I can only read the location of the people who murdered me, and I also get a sense...I don't know, their au-ra's I guess. I can tell that something isn't quite right with them."

"What do you mean?"

"It's really hard to explain. Kind of like, their bad people but not necessarily evil. Does that make any sense at all?"

"Not to me," Benny said in a grave tone.

The little truck pulled onto the long dirt driveway that led up to Jack Writemans farm house. A large garage to the left of the house held two hearses and sitting in front of the garage was Jack's old Ford pickup. Benny parked his truck next to the Ford, took a deep breath, and opened the door. Autumn began to open her door as well, and then felt Benny's hand on her arm.

"You had better wait here," he said, "I want to try to ease him into this."

"That's probably a good idea," she replied.

Benny walked up to the front door and knocked. Seconds later, Jack appeared at the screen door.

"Jesus! Where the fuck have you been, man?" Jack said in a relieved tone.

Benny held his hands up and started laughing, "Settle down, Jack, I've been at my house, right where I said I was going to be."

"What's so funny? I was worried about you, I thought you might have gone and offed yourself. I should knock that smile off your face."

"Alright, first of all, offed is not a real word," Benny said comically.

"So, you're gone for a couple of hours and you come back a fucking grammar teacher?"

Benny laughed harder at this, "Just calm down a second, alright? Something big has happened and I'm going to need your help with it, if you're willing to come along."

"Come along where?"

"Well, first we have to go see Dad, after that I'm not sure."

"I don't understand, why do we have to see the Old Man?"

Benny took a deep breath, "Let me start at the begin-ning. I went home earlier this evening and walked into my kitchen and...had a peanut butter sandwich," Benny didn't want to tell him how close he was to putting a bullet in his head, "and then something really strange happened."

"What?"

"You know, Jack, I think it would be better if I just showed you, but you have to stay calm and promise me you won't freak out."

"Benny, what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything; just walk to my truck with me."

Jack reluctantly started to walk with Benny, "You know, when you tell someone not to freak out, it's most likely because whatever your about to show them is going to make them freak out. I don't think I can promise you anything."

"Fair enough," Benny said as he opened the passen-ger side door of his truck.

When Autumn stepped out, Jack only stood frozen for a moment, then his eyes grew wide and his mouth began to open and close, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't quite find the words. Suddenly, a high pitched scream (a scream that Benny thought might come from a teenage girl in a bad horror movie) emitted from Jack's oddly quivering mouth. He then began to back up quickly, turned and ran screaming, back into his house, locking the door behind him.

"That's your idea of easing him into it?" Autumn said, giving Benny an amused look, "That went well, 'Hey, Jack, look, my dead wife has returned from the grave.'"

Benny only shrugged and the two of them walked to the front door.

"Let me handle this." he said.

Autumn threw up her hands, "Sure, you've done grand so far."

As a mortician, one of Jack Writemans greatest fears was that a dead body would suddenly be re-animated as he was preparing it for a showing, climb off its slab and use his brain for an appetizer before turning his hunger on the rest of the town. Sometimes his vivid imagination even allowed him the privilege of hearing his skull being ripped open with a thick chunk sound, like watermelon being torn from its rind. Seeing his dead sister-in-law emerge from Benny's truck was the most terrifying moment of his life.

Nearly thirty minutes went by, with Benny trying anything to get his brother to come out. Reasoning with him didn't work, neither did a bribe (he probably knew Benny didn't have any money, Benny never had any money), he couldn't even get an answer.

"Do you mind if I try?" Autumn finally asked.

"Be my guest," Benny replied, clearly frustrated with Jack by now.

"Jack, come on out, there's nothing to be afraid of. I'm still the same old Autumn I used to be, just minus a pulse," Autumn put her head against the door, "Jack, remem-ber that time we got pulled over for speeding in your truck and the cop let you go in exchange for that playboy you had on your dash."

"Yeah," Jack said sadly, "that was the issue with Tiffany in it. I was never able to track it down again."

Benny had to suppress laughter at his brother's re-morse for the missing artifact in his collection of famous nude women, which was his only real hobby.

"And remember the night we went to one of Sarah's parties and I drank to much vodka. You stayed up all night with me, holding a cold wet rag on my forehead and cleaning me up every time I got sick."

The locks on the door clicked and Jack peeked out, "Yeah, I remember that. It was the first time you ever got real-ly drunk."

"That's right. I never touched vodka again. I'm only back for a short amount of time and Benny and I are going to need your help."

"You're not going to try to eat my brain?"

"I swear I have no interest in eating your brain or any other part of your body."

"Alright, what exactly do you need my help with?"

"Autumn can lead us to the men who killed her," Benny interjected.

"Great, call the cops, have them arrested."

"No, Jack," Benny continued, "in order for Autumn's soul to be at rest, and for me to join her when I die, she has to be avenged."

Jack's look of surprise was almost humorous, he sud-denly threw the door open (totally disregarding Autumn) and walked up to his brother, "You're actually plotting to kill people. I got to say, that doesn't sound like the liberal, anti-death penalty, tree hugging, vegetarian, all life is precious, Benny I know."

"Jack," Benny said seriously, "I don't give a shit about any of that anymore. The only thing I care about is being with Autumn again. There are only six people I have to kill in order to accomplish that."

"Only six?" Jack said, dumbfounded, "How can you be so nonchalant about taking someone's life just so you could be with your girl in the hereafter, let alone six lives."

"I don't care if it's a hundred lives," shouted Benny, "I'll do whatever it takes."

"Okay," Autumn interrupted, "Benny, why don't you go calm down for a minute and let me talk to Jack."

Benny turned and walked back to the truck. Jack looked slightly nervous at the idea of being left alone with Autumn.

"Jack, there's something weird going on here, I have a feeling these aren't ordinary people. Besides, Benny will be the one doing the killing. We really just want you there to watch his back."

"I don't know," Jack said doubtfully.

"Look, Frank knows more about this then we do, why don't you come with us to talk to him and you can make your decision then?"

"Why would Dad know anything about this?"

"It would be better if he explained that."

"Fine I'll go, but that doesn't mean I'm going to help."

"Understood."

Jack ran inside, grabbed his jacket, and met Benny and Autumn at their truck.

"All three of us aren't going to fit in that thing," Jack said pointing to the Mitsubishi.

"Fine," Benny replied, still a little pissed at his broth-er, "we'll take your truck."

"We can't, its busted. We'll have to take a hearse and I have the perfect one." Jack walked over to the one door on the three car garage that was still closed and pulled it open. Inside sat 1979 Cadillac hearse that had been repainted in a pearl black, with the dark hood and fenders spreading back into purple flames. The alloy rims gleamed in the darkness, five point stars to finish off the modifications.

"Holy shit!" Benny exclaimed.

"You like it?" Jack asked.

"It's beautiful."

"It's yours you know?"

Benny stared at his brother in shock. "Are you se-rious?"

"Yeah, I was going to save it for a Christmas present, but I guess we could use it now. I figured a pimped out hearse would be just your style."

"Fit's the situation," Autumn stated.

Jack smiled, "Sorry, Autumn, dead chicks ride in the back."

"That's a horrible way to treat your dates" Autumn shot back. They all began to laugh.

"Benny, do you want to drive?" Jack asked.

"You go ahead, we need to get there fast and you have much less regard for the law than I do."

"Said the man who's plotting a murder." Jack shot back as he climbed behind the wheel.

Jack hit the left turn signal and veered down Main St., cutting through the middle of downtown Triloville.

"Where are you going?" Benny asked, "the Old Man lives in the opposite direction."

Jack gave him a disgusted look and said, "Dude, Dad hasn't stayed at home since mom died. He's been sleeping at his office, and he hasn't been sleeping very much."

"I didn't know that," Benny stared out the window wondering how long it had been since he and his father had talked.

Really talked.

Frank Writeman had just finished a little late night work and was preparing to crash on his office couch, when there came a knock on his door. He walked to his desk, went to the third drawer, and pulled a 9mm pistol from a holster that lay within. Crossing the office to the door, he stashed the gun into the pocket of his robe. There was no use in asking the person, or perhaps people on the other side of the door who they were, he knew how talented his old friends could be, even when it came to voice impersonations.

With his right hand resting on the butt of his pistol, he opened the door.

"Hey, Dad," Jack's smiling face said from the other side of the hallway, "mind if we come in?"

Frank was about to ask who we was, but his question was answered when Benny came walking in behind his oldest boy.

"What are you two doing here?" Frank asked.

"I need to talk to you about what happened to Au-tumn," Benny bluntly stated.

The Old Man knew there was no point in playing dumb anymore. Benny had somehow found out. "Let's go for a walk, we'll talk outside."

Frank didn't bother to change out of his pajamas and robe; instead he placed rubber soled slippers over his feet, and led his two sons to the elevator down the hall.

Down five floors and through the lobby, no one spoke a word until the three men stepped outside.

"Sorry, boys," Frank said to them, "I don't know how safe this building is from eves dropping."

"Dad, do you know something about Autumn's death?" Benny demanded.

Frank sighed deeply, "Yeah, I think I might. About seven years ago a group of businessmen from Europe came to me with a proposition. At the time I was desperate, I was on the verge of losing the savings and loan, and your mother and I had put almost everything we had into putting you boys through college.

"This group of people came to me with the idea of running their foreign currency through my bank. I don't know exactly how they were doing it, but they would toy with the exchange rates and make major profits. As long as I kept it quiet I would enjoy large pay offs."

"So you were laundering money?" Jack asked.

"Yes."

Jack began to speak again when Benny waved him off, "That's not important right now, Jack," he turned back to his father, "What does this have to do with Autumn?"

Frank continued, "When I promoted Autumn to head of finances, she found the discrepancies almost immediately, and brought them to my attention. I told her not to worry about it, that it was something I always handled and if it came up again she should ignore it.

"The next month she came to me again saying she was concerned about these numbers. Once again I told her to ignore it, only a little more forcefully this time.

"Somehow the European Businessmen caught wind of her snooping around and they warned me that she had to stop, so I had to demote her for her own safety."

"And they weren't satisfied with that?" Benny asked.

"Actually, they were, however, Autumn continued to snoop around, and they must have found out about it again."

"And you think these people are responsible for her death."

"I do."

They had reached the hearse and Benny stopped at the rear door, turned and looked his father in the eyes.

"Am I missing something?" Frank asked, after a few minutes of silence.

Benny's voice was nearly a whisper when he spoke, "I'm going to kill them. Will you help me?"

Frank's expression didn't change, "If your serious about this, there is something else you should know."

"What is it?"

"These people from Europe," Frank paused.

"Go on," Benny implored.

"They're vampires."

Jack let out a snort of the giggles, "Come on, Dad, quit fucking around."

Benny looked at his brother with a smirk, "Jack, is that really so hard to believe after what you've seen tonight?"

Jack abruptly stopped laughing, "Point taken."

"I don't understand," Frank said, confused, "What are you guys talking about?"

Benny reached out and pulled the back door of the hearse open.

Autumn looked up at her father in-law and waved.

"Hello, Autumn," Frank said with a smile.

4. Odin Sway

During the summer of 96, Benny and Autumn where hanging out a lot and much to Benny's pleasure he had found that this girl he was quickly falling for was going to attend IUPUI as well.

"If you don't mind me asking," Benny responded when he heard this news, "what made you decide to go all the way to Indianapolis for school when IU is much closer?"

"I don't know," Autumn answered, "maybe I thought there was a guy up there who was going to art school because it's supposed to be one of the premiere schools of art in the country, and he wouldn't mind a new girl shacking up with him."

Benny smiled at her, "You're going to go there just for me?"

"Of course, I'm majoring in accounting, which is pretty much the same where ever you go."

He only stared at her, unable to find the words to express how he felt. Finally he leaned down and kissed her deeply.

They had not been intimate yet but Benny knew they were very close, so his next gesture wasn't just an act of kindness but also an attempt to speed things up. "I got a little surprise for you too."

"Cool, I love surprises."

Benny reached into his jacket pocket and produced an envelope. He then opened it and pulled out two concert tickets.

Autumn read the headliners on the tickets and squealed, "Oh my God, you got Marilyn Manson tickets."

"Yep, this Saturday at the State Fair grounds."

She kissed him again and that night they made love for the first time. Then the second. And a third.

"So, if she was killed by a vampire, why cut her throat? Why didn't they suck her blood?" Benny asked.

"They don't work like that," Frank explained, "their very secretive and they wouldn't do anything to draw attention to themselves. They wanted to leave a message and that's how they did it. Now tell me what's going on with Autumn."

Benny told his father everything Autumn had told him and when he finished he repeated the question he had previously asked.

"Will you help us, Dad?"

Frank pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, fished through it a little and removed an old, beat up business card.

"I've never trusted these people," he said, "from the very first moment I met them. Go and see this guy, he'll give us everything we need."

"So you're in?" Benny asked, grinning.

"Of course I am," The Old Man said, returning the smile.

Benny hugged his father for the second time in one day, "Thanks, Dad."

The two men stepped away from each other, both giving Jack an embarrassed look.

"So, what do you say, Jack," Benny urged, "are you in?"

Jack let out a sigh. "Vampires, huh? We could all die on this little adventure."

"What do any of us have to live for?" Benny in-quired.

Jack thought about the question a moment and about how much he loathed his job, "Well, when you put it that way. Fine, I'm in."

"Alright then," Frank said, clapping a hand on Jack's shoulder, "let's get started. First, you guys need to go see that friend of mine. I have a few things to grab from my office, and then we'll all meet back at Jack's house."

The Writemans said their goodbyes and the hearse sped out of the parking lot toward Bloomington, which was about ten miles north of Triloville.

Frank turned and began to walk back into his build-ing when he heard a rustling in a nearby tree. He looked up in time to see a small bat flying away to the north.

He had a feeling more visitors would show up soon.

As Jack, Benny, and Autumn pulled into the drive-way of the small two bedroom house in Bloomington, the headlights of the hearse fell on a skinny, balding man, waving at them from the leaf covered lawn. Benny couldn't help but laugh at the man's pink bathrobe and large, yellow toothed grin that almost made him look like a mad scientist's assistant in an old black and white monster movie, all he needed was the hump on his back. Jack rolled the window down.

"How's it going?" the man shouted over the rustling leaves that were being blown around by a sudden harsh wind, "Hey, it would probably be easier if you guys turned around and backed into the garage."

"No problem," Jack said. He rolled the window back up and turned to Benny, "Dad sure keeps some interesting friends. Why do you think we need to back into the garage?"

"I don't know for sure," Benny replied, "but I think we just met an arms dealer."

Once the garage door was closed and the hearse was safely inside, the three Writemans got out and looked at the stranger, unsure of what to do next.

"Don't be nervous or anything," the man said. "Your dad called me and told me you were coming. You must be Jack," he shook Jack's hand and then took Benny's, "and I take it your Benny."

"That's right," Benny said quietly.

The man gave Autumn a confused look, "And you are?"

"Autumn."

"Right, right, Autumn. Name's James Palatino, nice to meet you all. Follow me."

James led them inside the house, through the living room and down the hallway toward the bedroom. "That's a bitching car by the way."

"Thanks." Benny and Jack said in unison.

"Your dad found me shortly after he started dealing with the vampires," he said, "he told me what was going on and I agreed to help him. He didn't want to make a move against them, but he wanted to be prepared for the likely pos-sibility that they would turn on him. So we started getting to-gether every Sunday over on the Indiana University campus to play chess and talk sports."

"Oh, so you're his chess buddy," Jack mused.

"That's me, only we weren't really talking sports. We came up with our own series of code words that, as far as I know successfully hid our dealing's. He'd mention something about Payton Manning's stats, which would be total bullshit, and I'd know what he wanted and how many bullets he wanted to go with it. I don't think vampires follow sports so if they were listening they didn't pick up on anything. As a result your father is now well prepared for the current situation."

James reached for a string that was dangling from the ceiling and yanked on it. A set of steps came sliding down and the four of them climbed up to the attic. Benny, Jack, and Autumn stood quietly in the dark for a few minutes as James shuffled away from them. A light switch was hit and the room lit up, when Benny's eyes focused his mouth dropped open in pure shock. What lay out before them was racks and racks of guns of various makes and models. Hundreds, perhaps even thousands of weapons lined the walls and filled the middle of the attic, which ran the length of the entire house.

"My Dad ordered all of these?" Benny asked.

"No, actually this is your Dad's section here," he said, pointing to a corner area, "the rest of this stuff belongs to other clients."

"All you have are silver bullets here," Jack observed, "how many other people are out there shooting vampires?"

"You'd be surprised and not just vampires either. Anyway you can take as much of this stuff as you want and toss it in your car. Oh, and here, your father wanted you two to have these; he has one of his own as well."

James pulled two straight samurai swords off of an elegant stand and handed them to Benny and Jack.

"How did he know we would be involved in this?" Benny asked.

"Like I said, old Frank wanted to be prepared for anything, including making sure his family could defend themselves."

Benny pulled the blade out of its sheath and marveled at its beauty.

"Those are made of pure silver and they're ready to use, the hilt is wrapped right around the base of the blade."

Benny and Jack began hauling the equipment back to the car as Autumn and James stood aside quietly.

Most of the guns were pistols, a lot of 9mm semi-automatics, some magnums, a couple of 38 revolvers, but there were a couple of Uzi's as well as 12 and 20 gauge shot-guns, two AR-15s and three AK-47's. They also found about twenty four small crates full of silver bullets and one crate loaded with strange looking hand grenades.

"Those are silver shrapnel grenades," James offered, "throw one of those babies into a group of vampires and it will explode, sending little shards of sharp silver in all directions. You'll take out a shit load of them."

"A shit load," Jack said, smiling, "is that a calculated estimate or did you just guess?"

James let out a nerdy wheezing laugh, "Good one."

The Writemans exchanged a comical looked and began to laugh as well.

All the weapons were loaded up and Benny noticed there were still three small crates remaining in his father's corner of the attic.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Ah," James answered, "those are a necessity when it comes to killing vampires."

Jack pried the lid off the nearest crate. "Heh heh, wooden stakes, of course."

"There's a hundred in each crate," James added, "they should last you for a while."

"I should hope so," Jack finished.

As Benny loaded one of the crates of wooden stakes into the hearse, James turned to Autumn and studied her a moment. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but if you got a little sun you'd be a very pretty girl. I mean you're as pale as a dead...wait. Autumn! You are dead aren't you?"

"Yes, very," Autumn said politely.

"That's right, come over here, I have something to show you."

Benny and Jack entered the room in time to hear this and the three of them followed James through his house once more. He stopped at a large book shelf that sat against his living room wall, ran a skinny index finger along the books on the fifth shelf, and pulled out an old, tattered book. The cover of the book read "Contacting the Dead".

"I'm sure you've seen psychics on TV who claim they can talk to the dead," James explained as he flipped through the pages, "well, as it turns out, not all of them are con artist. According to this book, which was written by a proven psychic, there are spirits floating around on this plain of existence. Some of these spirits are lost souls who can't find their way to the realm of the dead. Others, the ones who talk to these psychics, are people who have died and left some sort of unfinished business behind in their past life, so they feel they have to take care of these things before they can move on.

"Now let me read you this quote here. 'On some, very rare occasions throughout documented history; spirits have been known to return to their own bodies because the need to fix something is so great. This phenomenon is often confused with zombification, however it is actually called walking ghost syndrome. The walking ghosts retain all of their memories and intelligence whereas zombies are merely mindless dead bodies resurrected from their graves by gifted people called necromancers. The only resemblances between the two have been some cases of super human strength.'"

The three men looked at Autumn.

"I was buried six feet underground," Autumn said with a shrug "how do you think I got out?"

"So, there you go, you're a walking ghost," James finished.

Autumn turned and punched Jack in the arm.

"Ow!" Jack exclaimed, "What did you do that for?"

"Because you honestly thought I was going to eat your brain," Autumn said angrily, "Walking ghost, Jack, not zombie."

She stormed out the door and got into the back of the hearse.

Jack walked back to the garage, rubbing his arm and cursing under his breath the whole way. Benny thanked James and joined his wife and his brother in the hearse.

Soon they were back on the road with Jack driving, Benny riding shotgun, and Autumn squeezed in the back with an arsenal that could outfit the military for a small nation. Within minutes Autumn was knocking on the interconnecting plastic sliding window.

Jack glanced back, "I'm still mad at you for punching me in the arm."

It was a testament to Jack's fear of the dead that he had installed one of these windows in all of his hearses. The massive amounts of weed he smoked was the only way to relieve the stress his job created.

The knocking became more urgent, so Benny un-locked the tiny window and slid it back.

"What is it?" he asked.

"One of the vampires that killed me," she said, "he's in Triloville; I think he's at your Dad's building."

Frank had just finished getting dressed when he heard the door to his office open. Standing behind his desk, he turned to see a well dressed vampire walking toward him. Behind this vampire were four menacing thugs in slightly cheaper suits. The lead vampire walked with a cane, although it was clearly for decoration, his long blond hair was draped over his shoulders, and his face was smooth and stern.

"Odin Sway," Frank said, "what a pleasant surprise. I suppose you've come to kill me."

"Very astute," Odin replied in a low British accent, "you are correct. I'm very sorry, Frank, I wish it hadn't come to this, but I have no choice."

The other four vampires lunged forward quickly, their faces contorting into monstrous expressions, sharp fangs bared.

Matching their speed, Frank's hand came up from his side and a 9mm pistol put a hole into the forehead of the four vampires. They fell to the floor, their dead bodies now completely lifeless.

Frank leveled the gun at Odin's head.

"Very impressive," the vampire said calmly as he studied his fallen comrades, "silver bullets I take it."

"That's right." Frank had no idea if the creature was really impressed or if he was just being sarcastic. He had known Odin for a long time and even considered him a friend at one point, but he had never been able to read what the man was feeling. His expression never changed.

Odin grasped the shaft of his cane with one hand and pulled on the handle with the other revealing a long blade. Frank had seen the cane on countless occasions, had even been allowed to study the dragon and serpent that formed the handle. When he had asked the vampire about why the handle was made of silver, he had answered; "Keeping ones weaknesses at hand will only serve to make him stronger." The Old Man had never once suspected the cane was hiding a blade inside of it. He suddenly felt incredibly naïve.

"That wouldn't be the blade that killed my daughter-in-law, would it?" Frank asked, feeling blood rising to his face. Anger was a useful ally if used carefully.

"Yes," Odin said calmly, "but again, I had no choice."

"There's always a choice you sick fuck."

With unbelievable speed, Odin Sway began to jump around the room as Frank tried desperately to target him with his gun.

Finally the vampire's feet hit the far wall and he pushed off hard toward the Old Man with his claws extended, yet his face still bore that same blank expression.

Frank pulled the trigger.

5. Killing Vampires

Autumn had insisted that before they went to the concert, Benny needed a complete makeover.

"You're not going to perm my hair and paint my fingernails and shit like that, are you?" Benny asked jokingly.

"Perm, no. Fingernails, that's definitely a possibility."

Benny gave her a look of apprehension, but she con-tinued on, pretending not to notice.

"Now, first things first, if you want to be a Manson kid, you have to dye your hair a different color. Black is al-ways good, some go with pink, blue, or even a combination of colors."

"If I absolutely have to do it, let's go with plain old black."

"Cool!"

With that she led him into the bathroom and sat him in a chair with his back to the sink.

Two hours later he had black hair and he had to admit he looked pretty damn good with it. While he was admiring himself in Autumn's floor length mirror, his future wife was in the bathroom getting ready for the show.

He turned to the bed and found a stack of cloths that Autumn had laid out for him, including a spiked dog collar.

"What the fuck?" he said to himself, holding the col-lar as if it were some slimy species of fish that had never been seen before.

He heard the bathroom door open and turned to find Autumn standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked. Her hair was now black as well, except for the bangs, which were hot pink and framed her pretty face. She was wearing a black, lacey tank top, with a skin tight under shirt that had black and white stripes running down the long sleeves. Her black skirt was incredibly short and the pantyhose that covered her legs matched the black and white stripes of her sleeves.

Benny was once again left speechless, but incredibly turned on. Unable to stop himself, he went to her and began to kiss her neck, while gently caressing her breasts. She gave in to him immediately and they were soon on the bed.

Slowly, he peeled the pantyhose off of her legs, then off came the black lace panties.

She let out a short, high pitched squeal as he entered her, than moaned deeply with each incoming thrust, until they both exploded in a volcanic orgasm.

When they finally got ready to leave, Benny dressed in the black jeans and shirt that Autumn had gotten for him and she did paint his fingernails black, but he had to put his foot down at the dog collar.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Benny yelled.

Jack was obviously starting to panic and had brought the hearse up to seventy five mph. "We've got to get to Dad," he shouted back.

"Okay, you do realize we are driving a car full of illegal weapons, right? You need to slow down and enhance your fucking calm. If a cop pulls us over this little adventure of ours will come to a real quick end."

Jack seemed to take the point and began to slow the car down.

Turning his attention to Autumn, Benny said; "Is he still there?"

Autumn closed her eyes, "No, he's beginning to move away now. Jack, do you have your cell phone with you?"

"Yeah," Jack said pulling the phone from his jacket pocket. He flipped it open, accessed the phone book and found Frank's office number and extension. After a few minutes he snapped the flip phone shut and looked up at the other two. "There's no answer, what should we do, Benny?"

Benny thought over their options for a moment and then said; "We stick to the plan. We go back to your house and wait for Dad to show."

"But, Benny, what if he's hurt?"

"I don't think these guys would leave anyone alive, besides, the Old Man can take care of himself, we'd most like-ly just get in his way."

Jack only nodded his head in agreement and drove the rest of the way back in silence. Benny and Jack both knew that they're Father had extensive training in the Marine Corp. and his knowledge of weapons and hand to hand combat was vast.

"Autumn," Benny said, "can you get any kind of feel on what kind of mood the vampire was in when he left?"

"No," she responded, "all I can see is what direction he's going in now. North, in case you're interested."

Benny turned in his seat and stared out the window the rest of the way home in the hopes of seeing the vampire as their paths crossed. He kept assuring himself that he was right about his father; the three of them would be too late to do anything by the time they got there anyway.

Around 2:00am they pulled into Jack's driveway, got out of the car, went inside and sat down at the kitchen table.

The house was still and quiet save for the steady tick of the old clock Jack had in his living room. Benny was hav-ing a hard time concentrating on anything but that blasted clock. He could feel a headache forming that seemed to pulse and intensify with each tic.

Autumn sat quietly thinking about the things she was going to miss about being alive. Besides the obvious, the one thing she could never live without was chocolate milk. Man, did she love the chocolate milk. Even though she was dead, she still had no idea what was waiting for her on the other side, but she was sure that if she went to heaven the river beds would be flowing with chocolate milk.

Jack was having trouble staying awake, it was way past his usual bed time and he could feel his head starting to fall forward repeatedly. He began to think (or perhaps it was a strange dream) about his job. He began to see the countless bodies he had made up and prepared for showing, and how with each and every one came this great fear that they'd sit up and come after him. Moaning and groaning, trying desperately to eat some part of him. Each time he would shake that fear away and tell himself he'd been watching too many horror movies. Now here he was, sitting at his kitchen table with a dead girl and waiting for his father to get here so they could go and kill some vampires.

He was on the verge of falling into a deep sleep when he felt a chill and the hair on his neck stand up. He opened his eyes to see Benny sitting across from him with a gun pointed at his head. All of a sudden, time seemed to slow down. In-stinctively, he jumped from his seat and he hit the floor seconds before he heard the bang of the pistol like a sudden rolling thunder breaking the calm silence of a cool summer night. Looking back he saw a man with a monstrous face fall to his knees, smoke rising from a hole in his forehead.

"BENNY!" he shouted, pulling his own gun from the waistband of his jeans. He put two bullets into the chest of another vampire who crept in from the hallway that led to the staircase.

Benny was on his feet and moving around the table quickly toward the dark living room where the first vampire came from. He groped blindly along the inside wall until his hand fell on the light switch. He flicked it on and discovered the living room was hiding seven more vampires, none of them looking very happy.

Jack let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a moan. He waved to the vampires nervously and said to his brother; "Christ on a cracker, Benny, how long have these things been here?"

Benny didn't answer, he only stared at the vampires with an expression of rage that Jack thought looked complete-ly foreign on his brothers face.

Autumn decided to crawl under the table and stay out of the way and a second later Benny and Jack began firing repeatedly into the living room. For a moment she couldn't turn away from the ensuing carnage. She had never seen this kind of violence before and never thought her Benny would be a part of it. Her attention was suddenly caught by three vampires coming out of the hall and moving swiftly toward her husband and brother-in law.

"LOOK OUT!" she screamed, but they couldn't hear her over the gun fire and the earsplitting shrieks coming from the dying creatures. The three newcomers were nearly on them.

Suddenly the back door crashed open and an Uzi spoke out in three quick burst. Benny and Jack hit the floor at the sound of the weapon. The remaining vampires fell dead.

"Frank," Autumn said happily as she came out from beneath the table, "your okay."

Benny and Jack picked themselves off the floor and saw the Old Man standing in the doorway like a weathered warrior. Guns and silver shrapnel grenades seemed to hang from every article of clothing.

"Come on," Frank said calmly, "we're leaving, now."

As they were walking out of the house, Jack patted his father on the back, "Way to go, Dad, I knew you were a bad ass."

"Yeah, thanks Dad," Benny added with a smile.

"Frank, can we take your car?" Autumn asked.

The Old Man stopped, "All I have is my pickup truck, and we won't all fit."

"Are you serious?" Jack said, exasperated "I never realized all three of us have pickups. If anybody looked at this family from the outside they'd think we were a bunch of goddamned hillbillies."

"We'll just have to stick with the hearse," Benny stated.

They all piled into the old death cab (Benny and Au-tumn climbing into the back) and hit the road. Frank took over the driving chores and as he pulled out of the driveway, he noticed Jack was shaking badly and Benny was even more pale than usual, although before now, Frank wouldn't have thought that possible.

"Are you guys okay?" he asked.

"That's the first time I've ever killed...anything," Jack said in a daze. "I've never even shot a gun before today."

"Well I tried to get you to come target shooting with Benny and me when you were younger," Frank stated, "but, you always had other things to do. You know, smoking weed isn't the only recreational thing to do in life."

"Somehow, I don't think shooting at paper targets would have prepared me for slaying vampires. However, I am glad you brought up weed, I could definitely use some right about now," with that Jack pulled a cigarette case from the inside pocket of his jacket. He opened it revealing six neatly rolled joints. Pulling one out, he looked at his father with a smile, "See, you're not the only one who's always prepared."

Frank gave him a comical smirk, and then looked through the sliding window at Benny and Autumn, "How about you two, are you doing alright?"

"I'm fine," Benny said quietly.

"Me too," Autumn added, laying her head down on Benny's chest.

Frank turned his attention back to the road, "Where are we heading, Autumn?"

"North, toward Gary, when we get closer I'll be able to give you an exact location."

Jack took a deep drag off of his joint, "So, Dad, what happened at your office?" he asked through inhaled lungs.

Frank gave them all a surprised look and then re-membered Autumn would have been able to tell Odin was there. He glanced back at the road, then turned to Jack and said; "Let me have that thing."

For a moment Jack wasn't sure what the Old Man was talking about, but then realized he wanted the joint. After much hesitation he handed the loopy stick (as Autumn some-times called them) to his father.

To everyone's surprise, Frank stuck the joint between his lips and took a large hit. He held it in his lungs a moment, exhaled, and began to recount his night at the office without explaining his sudden urge for weed. "In the seven years I worked with these people, I've mostly dealt with a man named Odin Sway. Tonight, he showed up at my office with four other vampires, intent on killing me. I was able to eliminate the four goons, however, Odin is a different matter altogether.

"I'm sure you all have noticed, vampires are quicker than regular people, but still within the boundaries of physics," The others nodded their agreement, "Odin is much faster. I had a hard time even getting a bead on him and when I finally did, I missed. He can dodge bullets for Christ sake. I had him point blank, dead to rights, and he still managed to twist his body out of the way, while he was in mid air. I pulled a second pistol and started firing where I thought he might land next. Eventually he gave up and flew out the window."

"He can fly?" Benny said, clearly amazed by Frank's story.

"Yes, but I'm pretty sure all of them can. The thing that worries me most is; he always mentioned he had supe-riors. I'd hate to see the kind of power they have."

"What does he look like?" Autumn requested.

"Tall, pale, handsome, long blondish white hair, walks with a cane. Sound familiar?"

"He's the one that killed me," she replied in a horse voice. She could feel Benny tense up behind her.

"That's right," Frank continued, "he admitted it to me before we fought."

"Then the other five must be his superiors." Benny added.

"That would be my guess," Frank said, "These guys are going to be tough to kill while their awake. I think our best plan would be to get in their home while they sleep during the day and stake them in the heart."

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Benny said.

"Well, if we time it right, we should get to Gary by about sun up. We should have plenty of time to stop for a bite. Is anybody else hungry?"

Without waiting for an answer, Frank pulled into a Taco King drive through. He ordered a family pack (four tacos and three burritos), two burritos without meat for Benny, and three diet drinks. Jack tried to hand a taco to Autumn.

"No thanks," she said, waving it away, "I don't need to eat anymore."

"You don't?" Benny asked biting into a burrito.

"No, all my beeps and whistles have stopped work-ing," she replied pointing to her stomach, "that's what happens when you die."

As Frank pulled the car back on the road, Benny reached out and shut the sliding window, so he could talk to his wife in private. He only stared at her for a long moment, as he tried to find the right way to ask his question.

"What is it?" Autumn inquired with some concern.

"What did it feel like? Dying, I mean."

She looked down at her feet and thought back to the night she was slain by the mysterious vampire, Odin Sway. "When I realized there was no way for me to escape from our room, I was terrified. But when I looked into his eyes, those beautiful, dead eyes, all of my fear seemed to drop away. I was calm, relaxed, I looked at his handsome, emotionless face and felt completely at ease. Then he cut my throat and everything went black," she looked up at Benny as if she had just come out of a trance, "The next thing I remember is being in the coffin, it was almost as if I had just woke up from a deep sleep."

"Were you scared?"

"No, I knew I was already dead and in no danger of suffocating. I tore through the coffin and dug my way out of the grave, which is where that super human strength comes into play I guess."

"Do you still have this strength?"

"I don't think so. As a matter of fact, I'm beginning to feel weaker with each passing hour."

"Are you sure we have as long as a week?"

"No, I'm not sure."

Benny let out a defeated sigh.

"Now let me ask you a question," Autumn said.

"Okay."

"Will you be able to make love to me again, knowing it would be with a dead woman?"

Benny looked away from her, "I, um-"

They were suddenly interrupted by rapid knocking on the sliding window. Benny pulled the window aside.

"You two need to be in on this," Frank said.

6. A Brief History

Jack was holding up his cell phone and Benny could see it was on speaker.

"We have James on the phone," Jack stated, "he's about to fill us in on everything we need to know about vam-pires."

James' distorted voice came over the phone, "I have a pretty big file here, are you guys sure you got time to hear it?"

"We have a long drive ahead of us," Frank replied, "so go on and get started."

"Where should I begin?"

"Give us some history; separate the legends from the reality."

"Well, that's a hard thing to do, really, because most of the old stories are believed to be true by most vampire ex-perts. There are many stories dating as far back as ancient times that contribute to the vampire history.

"There is a Hebrew legend that tells of a woman named Lilith, who would lure men into her lair, seduce them, and then feast on their blood. The Romans believed in similar beings known as the Lamia. The Arabs and ancient Irish spoke of blood eating spirits and demons.

"Stories are told within the vampire enthusiast circles of a woman claiming to be Lilith, the queen of vampires as she put it, terrorizing rural areas of West Virginia as recently as 1989. I know a couple of vampire hunters who claim they tracked her down and killed her, but there is no real evidence of her death."

"Do you have reason not to believe these hunters?" Frank asked, as he pulled on to I-465, which would take them half way around Indianapolis to I-65.

"Well, in the five years I've known them, they ha-ven't killed anything. My guess is that this woman was an ordinary vampire with delusions of grandeur. Most of the evi-dence I've seen points to Lilith dying sometime in the early 15th century.

"Now the more traditional vampires first appeared in the 16th century when vampire activity increased rapidly in Europe from the Balkans as far as Greece.

"When Bram Stoker wrote his novel, Dracula, it's well known that he did a lot of research on vampires and Vlad the Impaler. Some believe that he interviewed vampire hunters and possibly even a vampire or two that knew Prince Vlad who went by the name Dracula at times.

"Vlad Tepes was born in 1431 and was the prince of Walachia (one of three Romanian provinces) at three different times, although his longest rule was from 1456 to 1462. It was then that most of the bad things happened."

"What sort of bad things?" Jack asked.

"Old Vlad was one sick and twisted individual. He loved to impale people, no matter what the reason. Almost anyone who broke the law would end up on a pike, and Vlad loved to do it. He would even go out and eat breakfast among all his victims as they squirmed and groaned to their agonizing deaths.

"There are a lot of stories surrounding Vlad, but the most popular one is 'The Night of Terror'. See, the Sultan of Turkey, having heard the stories coming out of Romania, de-cided to invade the country and remove Prince Vlad from power. The Turks had set up a camp near Tirgoviste, which was the Walachian capitol at the time. In a bold move Vlad led his army on a nighttime sneak attack against the camp, in the hopes of assassinating the Sultan. The attack caught the Turks off guard, but they managed to regroup and defend the camp. Hundreds of men were killed on both sides before Vlad realized he wasn't going to get to the sultan and called a retreat.

"With Vlad's army gone the road to Tirgoviste lay open to the Turks and the army began marching with the ulti-mate goal of reaching Vlad's castle and terminating his rule. When the Turks reached Tirgoviste, however, they found it completely deserted. There were no people, no cattle, no food or drink, the Walachian capitol was burned to the ground and many Turkish soldiers found out the hard way that the wells had been poisoned.

"The Turks continued to the next town, only to find the same horrific site. Town after town it continued until final-ly they began to draw near Vlad's castle. With the soldiers dehydrated and starving now, the sultan brought his army to a halt at a gorge near the castle and found the most sickening site yet. There in the gorge were...."

The phone line suddenly went silent. Frank and Jack looked at each other with concern.

"James," Frank said, "is everything alright?"

At that moment a strange, deep, voice came on the line; "The subscriber you have dialed is currently out of ser-vice, or has left the service area."

"Fucking cell phones!" Jack exclaimed with relief. He accessed the phone book and dialed James' number. The phone rang once and then went to James' voice mail. "Damn it, he must be trying to call us back; I'll just wait for him."

After a few minutes, Jack's phone rang and he pushed the speaker button.

"Sorry about that," James said, "fucking cell phones, right?"

The Writemans all looked at each other and grinned. Frank spoke up; "Anyway, you were saying the Turks came upon a gorge with a horrific sight."

"Right," James restarted, "what they found was near-ly twenty thousand impaled bodies. The rotting remains of men, women, and children from all of the villages the Turkish army had just passed through."

"Jesus Christ," Jack breathed in amazement.

"On a much higher pike were the bodies of two as-sassins sent by the Turks to kill Vlad before the hostilities began. The Sultan knew he could not defeat a man who could be capable of such insanity, so he and his army retreated."

"So, was Vlad a Vampire?" Benny asked.

"No one really knows for sure," James answered.

"What happened to him?"

"According to most accounts he was mistakenly killed in battle by his own soldiers. The Turks took credit for the kill and cut his head from the body. His head was sent to Constantinople, where it remained on display as proof that the Impaler was really dead. His body was laid to rest in the isolated island monastery of Snagov.

"In 1931, a genealogist and an archaeologist were assigned by Romania to dig around the island and study the historical monuments. When Vlad's grave was dug up his body was gone, casket and all. There's no telling how long it was missing or who would have taken it. The body is still missing to this day."

"Creepy," Jack said quietly.

"What about killing them?" Frank interjected, "Tell the boys the most effective ways to take the vampires out."

"Silver bullets, decapitation, and a stake through the heart are all very effective, the stake being the surest and most satisfying way to dispose of them. The crucifix and holy water are good defenses against them; however holy water is only effective as a weapon in large amounts.

"In Romania, they have a ritual that's still practiced to this day. When a vampire is captured, he is stripped naked; his cloths are placed in a coffin and buried in an unmarked grave. The vampire is then taken away deep into the forest where the heart is cut out of the chest and the body is torn limb from limb and burned in a great fire. Lastly, the heart is thrown into the flames. Those who have taken part in the ritual come near the fire so as to be fumigated by the smoke. All should be burned; flesh and bone, or else the smallest scrap could be enough for the vampire to materialize. Occasionally, the ashes are collected and mixed with water to create a powerful potion for the sick."

"What about garlic?" Jack asked.

"Bullshit," James responded, "complete and utter bullshit. You throw some garlic up in front of a vampire and he'll grind it into powder and sprinkle it on your neck just before he sinks his teeth in."

"Thanks, James, I think that will do for now," Frank said.

"Not a problem, you guys just stick with those silver bullets and you'll be just fine. I'm here anytime you need me, just give me a ring."

"Alright, talk to you later."

Jack ended the call and looked at his father.

Noticing the expression on his face, Frank said; "Don't look so nervous, we're going to be just fine. It will be daylight soon and we'll go in, take care of these guys while they're sleeping, and that will be the end of it."

Jack still looked doubtful. Frank glanced over his shoulder and saw Benny was asleep with Autumn still laying against his chest, twirling her hair, an expression of deep con-centration on her face.

"Aren't you tired, Autumn?" Frank asked.

"I don't think I need sleep anymore," she answered in a distant tone.

"Alright, what about you Jack? You look like you could use some rest."

Jack let out a deep sigh, "Yeah, I suppose I could."

He leaned over and rested his head against the win-dow. Knowing his father's trouble with sleeping lately, he was confident he wouldn't dose off while he was driving. Jack thought he could never sleep after the night's events. Five seconds after that thought he was asleep.

When he awoke it was daylight, and they were sitting in front of a large house a couple of miles south of Gary, Indi-ana, with the sun rising in the east.

More killing was about to begin.

7. The First Five

Benny's car was in the shop the night they went to the concert, and as much as he despised Jack's friend, Marvin, he and Autumn were forced to hitch a ride with the two of them, as they were heading to the concert as well.

The show went well. L7 was the opening act and they were alright, but nothing to write home about. Manson and his band put on an amazing show, one that Benny would praise for years to come.

After the show, the foursome made their way back to Marvin's Oldsmobile and pulled out of the State Fair grounds after a very prolonged wait in concert traffic, only to have a tire blow out once they got a mile down 38th street. Marvin pulled the limping car into a gas station parking space and killed the engine.

"It's no problem, guys," Jack said, "I'll just throw on the spare and we'll be moving in no time."

"Uh, that's not really an option, Jack," Marvin stated. Marvin was a strange little guy with a hair lip, and a voice like a puppet. It was the voice that made Benny laugh uncontrollably whenever he was high, and even then he was giggling a little despite the predicament they were in. "I'm afraid the spare tire is flat as well."

"Alright," Jack returned, "I'll just call The Old Man to come out and pick us up."

"He's not going to be happy," Benny put in. "It'll take him at least an hour to get here from Triloville."

"Yeah, but he'll do it anyway."

Autumn wrapped her hands around Benny's arm. "I really have to pee."

"Me too," returned Benny. "Hey, Jack, we're going to go find a bathroom."

"Alright, I'm going to hit that payphone over there."

The three of them got out of the car, leaving Marvin to twiddle his thumbs until they returned.

Benny and Autumn walked over to the gas station bathroom only to find an out of order sign taped to it. After questioning the attendant, they were informed that the closest public bathrooms were at a small motel just down the side-walk.

Less than a block away, the couple walked into the dim lobby of the Yellow Brick Motel and asked the balding creep behind the counter for the facilities.

"Just down the stairs." he said, "Women's on the left, men's on the right."

The two of them walked down the small flight of stairs and Benny couldn't help but notice how poorly lit the entire building seemed to be.

"Alright," he told Autumn, "I'll see you back out here in a few."

Benny pushed the door open and flicked the light switch up. The light did not come on. His need to relieve him-self far outweighed the childish fear of the dark he suddenly felt, so he let the door close and blindly made his way over to the urinal.

He undid his pants and began to urinate and laughed out loud because he knew he wasn't even close to hitting the urinal. He just let it flow, though, all over the wall and down to the floor.

With a shocking suddenness, the air went cold. So much so that he could feel the moisture on his nose hairs begin to turn to ice. He looked around even though he knew there was no point. There was no light at all in the tiny bathroom.

A whisper tickled his ear and he was sure he wasn't alone. The whispering was immediately followed by a harsh sucking noise and Benny hastily fastened his pants and went for the door. As he cracked it open, the dim light from the hallway fell on an animalistic face hovering over a dark lump on the floor. His hand slipped off the door and the room went dark once again. He groped for the handle frantically, but couldn't seem to get his bearings.

The thing behind him whispered again, something intangible to his ears, possibly another language. He could hear the bare footfalls of the creature on the linoleum floor. It was coming closer.

Finally his hand fell on the door handle and he pulled it open. Light poured in again and for the first time Benny noticed he was breathing incredibly hard. He looked back into the dark bathroom, but this time found nothing. Whatever had been in there before was gone.

A hand fell on Benny's shoulder, giving him a fright that threw him against the hallway wall. He let out a relieved breath when his eyes fell on Autumn.

"Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me," he breathed.

"What's wrong with you?" She giggled.

"I just saw something really freaky in there."

Autumn opened the door and peered inside. Benny looked around the corner with caution and saw the bathroom was still empty.

"Or maybe I didn't, I don't know." Benny stated with confusion.

"Come on, let's get you home."

Autumn helped Benny get to his feet and the two of them made it back to the car. Twenty minutes later, Frank showed up to rescue them.

Benny could have chalked up the strangeness of the bathroom to a bad high, but somehow he didn't think so. He saw something that night, he just didn't know what.

"Are you sure this is the place?" Benny asked.

Autumn closed her eyes as if she was trying to get a psychic reading from someone who had been long dead. "There are five of them in the house, the sixth is far away. To the west."

The four acres of property the house sat on was sur-rounded by a twelve foot high, brick wall. The Writemans positioned themselves in the shade of a tall apple tree on the west side of the wall. Autumn was staring up at the brightly colored leaves and the large, juicy apples.

"Mmm, I wish I could eat one of those apples," she said.

Benny looked at the ripe fruit that was hanging down from the branches and knew they would be delicious. "I'm sure they'd taste terrible," he said.

Autumn smiled at her husband's attempt to cheer her up. It obviously worked.

The Saturday morning air was cold enough to see the breath escaping their mouths (with the exception of Autumn of course) so Benny and Jack now donned their pullover sweatshirts and pulled the hoods over their heads. Frank was wearing an old beat up army jacket that he picked up in a surplus store in Greenwood. They all wore swords strapped to their backs, as well as an array of guns and wooden stakes hanging from their belts.

"Alright," Frank started, "vampires are known to have human servants who guard their caskets during the day. I want you guys to boost me up so I can take a look over the wall."

Jack clasped his fingers together and gave his father a foot hold while Benny shoved his behind upward toward the top of the wall. Frank pulled himself the rest of the way up and peered at the property beyond. After a few minutes he looked down at the others.

"I can see only two guards on this side of the lawn," he whispered, "I'm going in, you guys circle around to the east wall and come over, we'll meet at the front door. And remem-ber; keep it quiet."

Frank hefted himself over the wall and dropped quietly onto the lawn. The grass, he noticed, was nearly as high as his waist, and held a large array of fallen leaves inter-woven throughout it. As he moved in behind a tree for cover, he thought to himself; I guess vampires don't really get into lawn care.

Suddenly from his right came the sound of something moving quickly through the grass like a squirrel on a caffeine rush. As the thing cut a path through the yard, moving steadily closer, Frank could hear it growling and snarling angrily. He raised his left arm up just in time to block the animal's attack. Sharp canine teeth sank into his jacket sleeve, puncturing his skin. The creature locked its jaw onto his arm and Frank finally recognized his attacker. A pit bull terrier. He hoped the boys would be able to handle anymore that were around.

With a swift movement of his right hand, Frank pulled a knife from his belt and jammed it into the dogs head. The pit let out a yelp, but miraculously held his grip. Frank twisted the knife hard and the dog released his arm and fell lifeless to the ground. From behind he could hear another dog moving toward him fast. As he turned, he pulled his sword from its sheath. The timing was perfect. The blade entered the pit bull's open mouth and removed the top of its skull.

With the sword in his hand, Frank carefully peered around the tree. The commotion had caught the attention of one of the guards and he was headed toward the tree with an M-16 held to his chest.

Luckily, the tree's trunk was thick enough to hide Frank from view, and as the guard came up beside it, the old man quietly moved around the opposite side with his sword held high. As the guard examined the dead dogs lying in the grass, Frank's blade fell, decapitating the servant from behind.

Re-sheathing his sword, The Old Man turned his at-tention back toward the rest of the property.

The house had a balcony that wrapped all the way around the second floor, where another guard was posted. Looking up now, Frank saw that the second guard was moving toward the other side of the house, apparently not noticing the killings that had occurred below.

Frank slowly crept in toward the front door.

Meanwhile, on the east side of the wall, Benny, Jack, and Autumn had just found a good place to climb over.

"Alright," Jack said, once again clasping his hands for a foot hold, "you first, Benny."

Benny gave his brother a sarcastic smirk, "You should go first, you're lighter than me."

"Yeah, but your taller, it would be easier for you to reach the wall with your long arms, and then reach down and pull us up."

"Well, I guess that makes since, I am stronger than you."

"Whoa, now wait a minute," Jack said seemingly unable to believe what he had just heard, "who said anything about you being stronger?"

Autumn let out a groan that seemed to go unnoticed.

"Of course I'm stronger," Benny continued. "It's all in the weight."

"Bullshit, I'll arm wrestle you right now."

"Would you two macho idiots shut the fuck up and get over the wall?" Autumn bellowed.

Jack threw his hands up in surrender, "Alright, alright. Don't get your pulse rate up."

Benny snorted laughter.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny," Autumn said, "you're short and your scrawny, now get over the damn wall."

The two men gave Autumn an identical look of in-sulted hurt.

"I'm not that short," Jack said solemnly.

Jack boosted Benny up to the top of the wall for a look around. He saw one guard walking toward the front of the house, yawning as he went. Once the thug was around the corner Benny pulled the rest of his body up and, positioning himself on his stomach, reached down for the others. Jack put his hands on Autumns waist and lifted her up to Benny's out-stretched hand. Once she was over, Benny reached down for his brother. Jack jumped up for Benny's hand, but missed it completely.

"Autumn's right," Benny whispered, "you are too short."

"Fuck you!" Jack shot back. He backed up about ten feet and got a running start. Kicking his foot off the wall to get extra height, he was able to reach Benny.

Once the three of them were over, they all stood mo-tionless against the wall and looked around. After seeing the seemingly deserted lawn, Jack strode forward with confidence.

"Jack," Autumn said quietly, "what are you doing?"

"What?" he asked, "This is going to be easy."

When an angry pit bull leapt out of the tall grass, knocking Jack to the ground, the surprised look on his face was almost comical. Benny and Autumn stood motionless for a moment, staring at the dog in shocked surprise.

"Benny," Jack shouted, "do something."

Jack had his hands on the dog's chest, holding it at bay, as it snapped and slobbered inches from his face. Benny pulled his sword out and held the blade facing downward with the intention of stabbing the hound in the back. He hesitated, wondering if he could accidentally stick Jack as well.

"Come on, man." Jack begged.

Benny then turned the sword around in his hands and swung it like a golf club. He was surprised at how easily the silver blade cut through the pit's rib cage. The bottom half fell to the ground while the top half continued to squirm and writhe in Jack's hands.

"Jesus!" Jack exclaimed. He threw the top part of the dog aside, looking down at his jacket as he stood up, "Shit, look at me, I'm covered with blood."

Just then, the sound of automatic gun fire filled the air. The Writemans dropped to the ground as the bullets hit the wall behind them spraying shards of brick in every direction. A second gun began raining bullets in their area from the bal-cony above. With no cover nearby, Benny and the others were pinned to the ground, certain death looming in the very near future.

Suddenly, pistol fire broke out and the two rifles were silenced.

"So much for the element of surprise," a gruff voice shouted from across the lawn.

Benny, Jack and Autumn all looked up in unison to see the Old Man walking toward them. They all stood up, looking awkward and ashamed.

"You guys need to be more careful," Frank contin-ued, "I may not always be around to pull your asses out of the fire. Is everyone okay, any bullet wounds that need tending to?"

"I'm fine," Benny answered.

After running his hands over his body for a moment, taking extra special care to check his crotch, Jack finally looked up and said; "I'm cool, too."

"Oh no," Autumn said casually, "I've been shot."

Benny rushed to her side, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Benny," she gave him a sympathetic smile, "I'm the dead girl, remember?" The hole the bullet made in Autumn's left hip was small and clean, with no blood flow at all. She kissed him on the cheek and said; "Follow me."

Autumn began walking toward the house with Frank following close behind. Jack paused a moment to brush off his cloths while Benny cleaned the blade of his sword on the tall grass.

"I told you I'm stronger," Benny teased.

Jack held out his hands in an exasperated manner, "What are you talking about?"

"That dog."

"What about it?"

"That thing weighed like thirty pounds at the most, and it had you pinned to the ground."

A wave of incredulous shock washed over Jack's face, "Are you seriously giving me shit about that? That little fucker was trying to eat my face, man."

"Whatever," Benny chuckled as he began to follow the others.

Jack stared slack jawed at Benny's back, "He was squirming around like he had rabies or something. I couldn't even get a good grip on him."

"Come on, sissy," Benny hollered back.

"Fuck," Jack sighed to himself as he began walking.

Staring up at the house, Benny thought it was pretty obvious that these so called "businessmen" had made a lot of money through his father's bank. He didn't think the house was quite big enough to qualify as a mansion, but it had to be damn close. Its enormous Victorian style looked familiar to him, as if he'd seen it in some old Vincent Price haunted house movie, only it wasn't run down and shabby looking. Instead, it was in exquisite shape, as if it had been built very recently.

As the group reached the front of the house, they found the entrance in the form of a very large and expensive looking double door.

Frank tried the knob and was not surprised to find it locked.

"What do we do now?" Benny asked.

Frank pulled a double barreled, sawed off shotgun from a holster that was strapped to his right thigh, "Stand back," he said, raising the gun to the doorknobs. Both barrels fired simultaneously, spraying wood in all directions and creating a gaping hole in the center of the doors.

The Writemans entered the manor.

Inside, the house was lavishly decorated with many high priced items. Large vases and strange sculptures lined the multitude of antique chests and dressers in the lobby area. Though Benny had taken a few Art History classes at Herron when he was younger, he didn't recognize the sculptures. Not very surprising, considering most of them seem to feature vampires in some way or another. Directly in front of the en-trance, a double staircase split off to opposite wings of the house.

"Should we expect more human servants in here?" Benny asked.

"I don't think so," Frank replied, "vampires may employ humans to guard their coffins during the day, but they still wouldn't trust them enough to give them access to their sleeping bodies. I imagine the men outside were locked out of the house, just as we were."

The three men followed Autumn up the stairs and to the center of the landing where she stopped in front of a large oak door that was trimmed with red velvet.

"This is it," she said, "all five of them are in this room."

"Alright, Benny, you take Autumn in there and stake these five in the heart," Frank commanded, "Jack and I will finish off any others we find in the rest of the house."

"No!" Benny said sternly.

Frank looked confused, "What's the problem?"

"We kill the five, and then we leave to find the last one."

"Benny, take a look around, there are quite a few more rooms in this house. There could be thirty more vam-pires sleeping helplessly, ripe for the staking. If we just take out these five (who are most likely the leaders of this group, I might add) then the rest of them will be hunting us down."

"That's a chance we're going to have to take."

"This is not the way vampire hunters work."

"I'm not on some mission to destroy an entire race of beings. This isn't about being a hunter, it's about avenging Autumn. I don't give a fuck if these goddamned things over-run the earth, as long as the six who are responsible for her murder no longer exist."

"And when they come after us, will you be able to kill them then?"

"I'll be forced to defend myself, as I've done already at Jack's house. Self defense is different than cold blooded murder."

"Aren't these guys technically already dead?" Jack interrupted.

"It doesn't matter," Benny continued, "they've done nothing against us, so we'll do nothing to them."

Frank knew there was no point in arguing the matter any further; his youngest son had always been the bleeding heart type. "Fine, go on and do what you need to do then."

Benny and Autumn opened the door and stepped through into a large room that was decorated in maroon velvet and black roses.

"Wow," Autumn said, looking around, "we should have done our bedroom like this."

Along the left wall sat two black coffins with gold trim, in front of an enormous wall hanging that depicted dark figures in the middle of some gruesome act. The right wall was almost a mirror image, only the figures in the wall hanging were wearing white instead of black. In the middle of the room was a white coffin trimmed in silver and elevated slightly higher than the rest.

"We don't have all day, Benny," Frank said from the doorway.

Benny suddenly felt self conscious, knowing that his father would be able to kill these beings without hesitation. As he opened the first coffin (on the left side of the room) he felt a sudden weakness in his knee's that he usually associated with a good round of sex. This, however was not sex, it was murder, plain and simple.

Even in the darkened room, Benny could see the pale face staring up at him with wide pleading eyes. He pulled a stake from his belt and let the point rest on the vampire's chest, directly over his heart. The man's face twitched and grew taught at the touch of the wooden object. He looked as if he wanted to beg for his life, but was physically unable to.

Benny swallowed nervously, and then placed the palm of his right hand on the flat end of the stake. Using all of his weight, he pushed the weapon through the creature's breast plate and into the heart beneath.

A deafening scream erupted from the vampire's mouth, forcing the humans in the room to quickly cover their ears with the palms of their hands. The thing arched it's back, it's hands twisting into ugly talons as dark red liquid flowed from the wound in it's chest. Suddenly, he dropped limp and lifeless back into the coffin.

Benny felt a surge of adrenaline rush trough his body. Maybe this was more like sex then he thought. Suddenly a sickening guilt began to tickle at the back of his mind. Then the guilt was pushed away by a foreign voice telling him there is no room for guilt here, this is revenge, there can be no mercy shown to these creatures. They murdered the only woman you ever loved.

Taking a deep breath, Benny moved to the next cof-fin with grave determination painted on his face. He threw the lid open and looked down on an extremely attractive woman. This took him by surprise, she was the first female vampire he had seen, and she was quite possibly the most beautiful vision he had ever laid eyes on. How could he ever bring himself to do harm to this lovely creature? How could he drive a wooden stake into her flawless, creamy white breast? He suddenly felt a strong urge to reach out and caress the two full mounds that were hidden beneath the black silk of her blouse.

He shook his head violently and forced his eyes away from the beast. This was part of their power, he understood that now. It was the same spell that Autumn fell under with Odin Sway, just before he killed her. They're all attractive, he even felt vaguely attracted to the male vampires. It was faint, but he now realized it was there just the same.

He pulled a stake from his belt and brought it down swiftly, so as not to be caught under the spell again. The woman howled like a banshee, as the same death rattle that the first vampire exhibited now ravaged her body. Then with an alarming suddenness, she went still.

Benny quickly moved to the other side of the room, wanting nothing more than to be through with the task at hand and to be out of the strange house. He moved to the first casket, flung the lid up, and rammed a stake into the vampire's heart. Not waiting for the thing to stop screaming he immediately moved to the next one. Again the kill was quick, and Benny walked to the last coffin while the screaming from the previous two continued. He tore the lid off the last box, but stopped in his tracks.

"What's wrong?" Frank asked, once the screams had stopped.

Benny's voice came from far away, as if his mind was somewhere else completely. "This guy is an art critic; he attended a few of my showings. He was always a big suppor-ter of my art."

"You never saw him in daylight though, did you?" The Old Man returned.

"No," Benny replied, as he brought the point of another stake to rest on the man's chest, "Now that you men-tion it, I didn't."

Much to Benny's surprise, the vampire smiled at him and tears spilled from his eyes, as if he had been waiting cen-turies for this moment to come. The stake plunged into it's blackened target, and though the creature tensed slightly, there wasn't so much as a whimper to be heard from his smiling mouth.

So it came that five of the six vampires were dead.

Benny turned and looked at the others. "All that re-mains now is; finding Odin Sway."

8. The Graveyard and the Cornfield

The ride home from the concert was full of the usual gripes and curses from Frank, after making the long trip to Indianapolis to pick up the four concert goers.

"I don't know why you have to give all of these as-sholes your money anyway," the Old Man barked. "You al-ready have the CD full of all of their music, what's the differ-ence if you see them live."

No one ever answered these questions, it was better to stay quiet and let him rant, and rant he did, all the way back to Triloville.

Once Marvin, Jack and Autumn were dropped off at their respective homes, Benny found himself alone in the car with his father as they returned to Frank's house, where Benny was staying until he returned to school.

Benny stared at the Old Man's face for a long mo-ment, highlighted only by the ghostly glow of the dashboard lights, and tried hard to decide if he could confide in him without being perceived as being crazy.

"Something on your mind?" Frank said.

Benny swallowed hard and then spoke, "I saw some-thing tonight. Something strange that I'm not sure was entirely real."

"What did you see?"

Benny recounted his trip to the dark bathroom. When he had finished, Frank looked at him sternly and said; "Did you drop acid tonight?"

"Benny shook his head, "Of course not, I've never done that shit."

"In that case you probably did see this creature."

This was the last thing Benny expected to hear from his father.

Frank saw the confused look on his son's face and decided to elaborate. "During my time in the military and even in this business, I have seen some strange shit, things that I wouldn't feel comfortable telling anyone for fear of my sanity being questioned, so believe me, I know where your coming from."

"What do you think it was I saw?"

"I don't know, Benny, but some things are better forgotten. If you dwell on this and start talking about it to other people, it could get back to someone or something that doesn't want this secret out. Then you might find yourself a lifeless lump on a bathroom floor."

Benny nodded and took his father's advice to heart, pushing the entire event to the back of his mind. He would not think of it again for almost five years.

The old black hearse had just crossed the border from Indiana into Illinois.

"We should be able to make it before sunset," Frank shouted over the roaring engine, "Omaha is about eight hours away and it's just past 11 now."

Autumn had just finished informing the others that she could feel Odin's presence somewhere around Omaha, Nebraska, presumably holed up someplace dark until the sun went down.

"We only have about seven hours before the sun sets," Jack reminded the others, "it is October after all."

"I realize that, Jack, but I also realize, come sun down, we'll be the target of a whole lot of vampires. So, we'll leave it up to Benny," Frank looked to the back of the hearse at his other son. "You boys have been on a road trip with your old man before; you know I can get you there in less than seven hours."

Benny looked at his father, knowing he was right, and traffic should be thin on a Sunday morning. "Alright, let's go for it."

Frank applied pressure to the gas pedal and the old death cab shot westward where they would ride Interstate 80 in an almost straight line to Omaha.

Turning his attention to the back of the hearse, Benny began to replenish his belt with wooden stakes. Autumn had moved some of the arsenal away from the window, and was now stretched out on her side, using that old army nap sack as a pillow, staring distantly at the scenery as it flew by. Benny sat his gear aside and lay down behind her, slipping his arm around her waist. She closed her eyes, savoring his touch, knowing if she was able to shed a tear they would be streaming down her face right now.

"Are you alright?" he whispered in her ear.

"Yes," she answered, "I just feel so sorry for the things I'm making you do. The person you're becoming is so different from the person you once were."

"How do you mean?"

"You would never have killed anyone before; you were always such a live and let live type of guy. Back when we were at IUPUI everyone used to call you a hippie."

"Hippie?" Benny sounded shocked, "Who called me a hippie?"

"Kenny Evens, for one."

"Would this be the same belligerent, gun freak, Ken-ny Evens who would beat the crap out of people when they made fun of his teeth, and committed himself to the Army when he was sixteen only to be tossed out because he was even two nutty for them?"

"Yes," Autumn replied sheepishly.

"That guy made Ted Nugent look like a hippie."

Autumn began to giggle, in spite of her worries.

"Besides, there is something I've always had that makes me secure enough in my masculinity to not act like a dominate male, chest beating freak like Kenny Evens."

Autumn turned over and looked into his eyes, fully prepared to hear something extremely romantic. "What's that?"

"A massive cock."

With that, Autumn began laughing harshly; letting out pig like snorts no matter how hard she tried to contain them. When the laughing had finally subsided, Benny began to stroke her long hair. "Nothing has changed about me, Autumn. I would do absolutely anything to be with you for the rest of eternity, and that's the way I've felt since the moment I first met you."

She smiled at him and he leaned down and kissed her lips, and though she probably imagined it, she could have sworn that kiss made her cold body feel much warmer.

Jack sat in the passenger's seat with his head resting against the window, not really paying any attention to the brilliantly colored trees that were racing by outside. Instead, his thoughts were somewhere else. A long forgotten memory buried deep in his mind, rising to the surface with the startling suddenness of a bloated body in Lake Michigan.

He was seven years old, maybe eight, and he had just watched a TV movie with his father, Salem's Lot if he remembered correctly. He was lying in bed trying to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes the bald vampire's horrible face would appear floating before his mind's eye. It didn't take long for him to start screaming for his mommy. And in she came, as she always did, to comfort him. He remembers her sitting there on the edge of his small bed, rubbing his back, and assuring him that there were no such things as vampires. It was only a movie, they were only actors (and not very good ones at that) wearing heavy makeup and fake teeth.

He remembered feeling so much better with her there. So much safer. How he wished she was with him on this mad trip, to rub his back and tell him everything was going to be alright.

That movie, as well as the multitude of horror movies he had seen since then, were weighing heavily on his mind. Mostly because the vast majority of them have something in common. The supporting cast gets killed off one by one throughout the course of the movie until the main character and maybe a love interest are all that's left. The situation that he and his family (what's left of them anyway) had found themselves in now is feeling more and more like one of those movies. What are the odds that all of them would make it through this, considering what they're up against.

This is Benny's story, and he knew it. Ol' Jack Writeman is nothing but a supporting character, just like the Old Man, and even Autumn. He had a sinking feeling he was not going to make it to the end of this story alive. While these thoughts ran through his mind he fell into an uneasy sleep.

Frank Writeman was used to going long periods of time without sleep, but now that the adrenaline from breaking into the vampire house had drained from his body, he felt an exhaustion he hadn't felt since his younger days. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to collapse on a bed and sleep for a good twelve hours.

That was not an option however, and he was sure that if they didn't kill Odin Sway before sundown, there was a very good possibility they would be dead before dawn. This was Benny's best chance of completing his task and after that he would let things play out as they may.

Now, as they made their way west to Omaha, he couldn't help but feel bad for Jack. He regrets ever letting his oldest boy get involved in this mess. Frank had lived a long life and didn't fear death, and though Benny was young, it was well understood that without Autumn he was practically dead already. Jack, however, still had things going for him back home. Sure he hadn't had much luck with women lately, and Frank knew how much he hated the job he had inexplicably gotten into, but he had yet to know the magnificence of real love, and now he most likely never would.

Hind sight is always twenty/twenty. Right?

"Right," he said aloud.

Jack's head popped up from its resting place on the passenger door window. "You say something?"

"No," Frank replied, after a slight hesitation, "go back to sleep, son."

Jack dropped his head back to the window. A few seconds later, Frank put his hand in Jacks and held it. Jack squeezed his father's hand, and sleep came a little easier.

There was still about a half an hour of daylight left when the Writeman hearse pulled into the Auburn Fields cem-etery, just outside of Omaha city limits.

"See, I told you we'd make it." Frank stated, proudly.

"Yeah," Jack glumly returned, "that's great, Dad."

Looking back through the window at Autumn, Frank asked; "Where exactly do we need to go, pumpkin."

Autumn felt momentarily stunned by her father-in-laws use of a nickname he gave her long ago. Though he had called her pumpkin countless times in the past, this was the first time he had done so since she had returned from the dead. It made her feel accepted and at the same time it made her realize how much she really loved the old man as if he were her own father.

"Autumn?" Jack said.
"Sorry," she pointed a finger out the windshield, "up there on that hill, inside the mausoleum."

"Inside a mausoleum," Jack half shouted, "Why am I not surprised."

"Settle down, Jack," Benny said from the back of the hearse, "let's get up there, we don't have much time."

Frank drove the car up a narrow, paved road and parked next to the decrepit looking structure. The three men exited the car and began equipping their gear. Autumn got out of the car and walked slowly away from the mausoleum. She came to a stop near an eroded headstone and stood staring blankly toward an adjacent corn field.

Benny and Jack went to the front of the mausoleum and began the arduous task of removing the large stone slab that covered the entrance. After a few moments of struggle, Benny turned to his father, red faced and out of breath, "Can you...give us...a hand with this."

"Oh, yeah!" the Old Man exclaimed, "Alright, on the count of three. One, two, three, heave."

The three of them pulled on the slab together, but still had no luck moving it.

After catching his breath Frank said; "Something isn't right here, it shouldn't be this hard to move."

"Maybe we should just go," Jack put in nervously, "we don't have much time left."

Benny thought about it a moment, then looked at his brother "Jack, do you have a tire iron in that hearse?"

"Yeah, I think so. Give me a second to dig it out."

As Jack went back to the car, Benny noticed his wife hadn't moved or said a word since they had exited the hearse. She only stood there by a grave, staring at a withering corn-field down the hill a ways.

"Autumn?" Benny said from behind her, "Are you alright?"

She turned and stared at him with frightened confu-sion. "He's there, in the cornfield."

Jack had just returned with the tire iron and all three of them were now giving her an identical dumfounded look.

"But, didn't just you say he was in the mausoleum?" Benny asked.

"He is, but I also feel his presence in the cornfield."

"Are you sure it isn't other vampires you feel?"

"He is the only one I can sense, and he's in the mau-soleum, yet at the same time I can feel him in many different places throughout the field."

"Alright," Frank said, as he took the tire iron from Jack and shoved it into Benny's hands, "Jack and I will check out the cornfield, you keep working on getting that door open."

"Guys, this is not a good idea," Jack added, "the sun is almost down, we should beat feet and get the fuck out of here."

"We'll be alright, Jack," Frank assured, "we have the equipment to defend ourselves. Besides, if we run now they'll catch up to us within a matter of hours. It's best if we try to finish this as soon as possible."

Frank began to walk toward the cornfield and, after giving his father a defiant sigh, Jack followed.

Benny looked at his wife and saw her stumble a little, reaching for the headstone for support. "Autumn, why don't you get in the car and try to relax."

Autumn nodded and returned to the car while Benny went to work on the stone slab with the tire iron.

The graveyard and the cornfield were separated by an old, broken down picket fence. Frank and Jack found a fallen section and stepped over to the other side.

"We should split up," Frank said.

Jack shot his father a surprised look. "Umm, I...you know...I really think that's a bad idea there, Dad. As a matter of fact I think it's about the worst fucking idea I've ever heard."

"Calm down, Shaggy, we'll only be a few isles of corn stalks apart, so if you and Scooby get in trouble just give me a holler and I'll come a running."

"That's real funny, Old Man, it's just a shame you have to finally get a sense of humor right when we're about to die."

Frank smiled, "Just remember; move quietly, stealth and surprise are our biggest allies."

"Right," Jack said, but he didn't sound convinced to say the least.

They put about forty rows of corn between them and then entered quietly.

Approximately twenty yards into the field, Jack rea-lized he'd never been so completely and utterly terrified in his entire life. He noticed his breathing was forming a steady stream of steam in the cold evening air and made a conscience effort to calm his nerves. He kept walking deeper and deeper into the maze, trying hard to resist the urge to call out to his father. He stopped and looked back to the west. In the distance he could faintly hear Benny still struggling with the stone slab on the mausoleum and wondered if his brother noticed that the sun was now down.

Further and further into the field he walked, his breathing was now short and jagged and he was sure he could hear himself whimper from time to time.

Suddenly, Jack could hear a low, grumbling sound that seem to come from all around him. He stared around wildly, but could see nothing but corn stalks in every direction, and the stalks were too high to see over. Luckily, the night was clear and a full harvest moon shone its light down, making things a little easier to see. Jack thought if it was any darker he would have gone mad with fear by now.

The grumbling sound seemed to be getting louder. No, that's not quite right, he thought, it's getting closer. Slow-ly, he pulled a 9mm pistol from his belt (taking a split second to ask himself why he had waited this long to do so) and cocked a bullet into the chamber. Looking to his left, he tried desperately to peer through the rows of corn stalks to find his father, and at that moment, the stalks began to sway.

For a second he still didn't see anything, but as his eyes focused he could finally make out the dark, hulking shape of the creature moving toward him.

Jack quickly raised his gun and pulled the trigger.

Frank heard the gunshots break the eerie silence of the night, only moments before a bullet whizzed by his ear.

"Jack," the Old Man shouted, "use your sword or we'll end up shooting each other."

Pulling his own sword, Frank caught movement in his peripheral vision and turned to see an angry werewolf moving toward him. He swung the sword up and the blade moved cleanly through the monster's neck. He watched the head roll and come to rest at the large feet of another werewolf. Looking around, he now realized they had been lured into a trap. The cornfield was full of werewolves and they were closing in fast.

Benny heard the shots being fired in the cornfield below, as well as his father's shouts afterward. Dropping the crowbar and grabbing his sword off the ground he sprinted for the old picket fence at the bottom of the hill, with every inten-sion of helping his father and brother. He had nearly reached the fence when he heard the low sound of cement sliding against cement. He turned slowly and beheld the ghostly form of Odin Sway emerging from the open doorway of the mauso-leum.

A primal rage seemed to awaken inside of him and he ran back up the hill, using his free hand to draw a 45 semi-automatic pistol from his belt as he went. The weight of the gun felt positively exhilarating as he raised it to aim at the monster's head. He was going to enjoy this kill most of all.

He pulled the trigger and the force of the blast nearly caused him to fall over. The bullet struck the side of the mau-soleum, where Odin's head was a split second earlier. It ap-peared his father wasn't exaggerating about the vampire's speed.

Benny stopped, dropped his sword back to the ground, and steadying his feet, he brought the heavy gun up again, this time holding it with both hands.

"You missed," Odin said. He was now crouched atop a headstone to Benny's right.

Benny took aim and fired, but again the vampire was moving with unbelievable speed. This time he stopped with his nose only a half an inch from Benny's. In a flash the gun was removed from Benny's hand and when Odin moved again, he left the pistol at Benny's feet, broken into pieces.

It was at this moment Benny felt an immense hope-lessness set into the pit of his stomach and threaten to swallow his entire body. He was breathing hard and somehow, he knew that Odin Sway was standing behind him. He turned to face the vampire and found him leaning his right elbow against a tall, eloquent monument that stood about ten yards away

"You have a sword there," Odin said, "why don't you use it?"

Benny thought the villain was toying with him, trying to trick him into doing something stupid, but it was hard to tell. Odin's face showed no emotion at all and Benny once again felt that strange attraction trying to take over. He knew it was only his overwhelming hatred for the creature that kept the spell in check.

Slowly, Benny stepped toward his sword and as he bent down to retrieve it with his right hand; he slipped his left up to his side and gripped the butt of an Uzi. With amazingly quick reflexes (for a human) he brought the Uzi up to fire. Before he pulled the trigger the gun was violently ripped from his hand and Odin Sway appeared back in front of the mausoleum with the weapon held up to his cheek like an actor in a buddy cop film.

Odin appeared to be taking no pleasure in this fiasco, nor did he seem angered, he merely tossed the gun aside and spoke to Benny in a low emotionless tone. "Guns are so unci-vilized Mr. Writeman, please, show me your skill with that beautifully crafted blade. It's been so long since I've had any-one challenge me."

"Somehow, I don't think your desire for a challenge would be fulfilled," Benny said, unable to hide the anger in his voice.

"Perhaps," Odin returned in the same monotone voice. "Nevertheless, you seem to be getting nowhere with your popguns."

From a short distance behind him, Benny could hear his brother shouting some obscenities, followed by an inhu-man howl of pain. It sounded as though they had things under control, he found that at least a little comforting.

Benny reached down and picked up the sword. "Fine, have it your way."

Odin Sway pulled his walking cane apart to reveal a gleaming blade from within. The sight of the blade only in-creased Benny's rage, knowing full well this was the same one that killed his wife and shattered his world.

He pulled his sword out (tossing the sheath aside) and gripped the hilt with both hands, raising it up into a defensive position.

Odin Sway held his thin, long blade up with his right hand and placed his left behind his back, crouching in a classic fencing stance.

For a moment the two men only stared at each other, each one trying to predict the others first move. It was Benny that struck first, swinging his sword in a wide arch from his right side. The vampire blocked the attack without much ef-fort, as well as the two blows that followed.

In a blur of motion that left Benny surrounded by a cyclone of fallen dead leaves, Odin sliced a long gash in his left shoulder blade. Benny's cloths began to feel sticky with the warm liquid that was pouring from the wound. He spun, bringing the sword upward as he turned, but Odin was no longer behind him. An instant later he felt his right thigh split open and a blossom of fresh pain rack his body.

Benny dropped to his knees just before another cut appeared on his right cheek. Suddenly he was on all fours, watching his blood dripping on a large orange leaf. He felt an urge to stay there and see what kind of fascinating image would appear before Odin ended his life. Odin, however, was standing nearby, patiently waiting for his prey to stand back up and ready his sword.

With Great effort, Benny got to his feet and looked the vampire in the eyes. He couldn't let it end here. Avenging Autumn was the only thing that had kept him alive the last 24 hours. He had to prevail somehow.

"Why do you stand?" Odin asked, "can't you see that you're beaten?"

Was that a hint of sympathy Benny heard in this creature's voice, or was the loss of blood affecting his perception? Are these beings even capable of such feelings?

Benny raised his sword once more but a quick swing of Odin's blade ripped the weapon from his hand. Suddenly, Benny found himself without a weapon and the cold, long blade of Odin Sway's sword pressed against his jugular. Ben-ny looked into the vampire's eyes and was again astounded by the lack of emotion there.

"I'm sorry, my friend," Odin said, "but this has gone way too far already, it needs to end now."

Benny closed his eyes and began whispering to him-self as he waited to feel the blade rip into his throat.

With a suddenness that even made the vampire jump, the back door of the hearse flung open and Autumn stepped out.

Odin stared at the dead girl, and as he slowly backed away from Benny, a real emotion finally took over his stern face. That emotion was pure horror.

Autumn began to speak, but Odin's reaction to seeing her seemed to catch her off guard and her words were forgotten. Instead, her jaw only remained slack with shock.

Odin was still backing away when he tripped over a short headstone and (much to Benny and Autumn's surprise) continued to scuttle and kick himself away from the approaching dead girl.

Benny was so surprised by this turn of events that he only stood there for a moment, staring at the hysterical vam-pire as it scuttled away from his wife. With an effort, he shook off the shock, picked up his sword and darted for Odin Sway. This was his best chance to kill the vampire before he could escape.

As Benny swung the sword, Odin quickly smacked the ground with both hands and raised himself up into the air. All Benny could do was watch, as his wife's murderer flew away and disappeared into the night sky.

Frank had killed three werewolves and was trying desperately to find Jack through the tall corn stalks. He had heard the gunfire from the graveyard and decided against the urge to go help Benny. He knew Benny's determination would keep him on his toes; however, his oldest son was having trouble dealing with this little adventure they were on. He was nervous, apprehensive, and, sometimes, just downright scared.

"Jack," he shouted, "where are you?"

"Over here," he heard Jack call back from his right.

"Keep talking, I'm coming to find you."

"Hurry up, Dad, I need your help."

Frank moved through the stalks as fast as he could and a few rows over, nearly ran into his son.

"Jack, are you alright?" Looking around, Frank saw two dead werewolves back the way Jack had come.

"I'm fine," Jack replied, "for now."

The old man followed Jack's gaze and he could make out the dark shapes of five more werewolves closing in on them.

"C'mon," Frank said, "back the way I came."

But as the two men turned, they found more monstr-ous figures moving through the stalks toward them. Frank grabbed his oldest son by the arm and turned back toward the graveyard, but again their path was blocked. They were com-pletely surrounded by the beasts.

"What...What do we do now, Dad?" Jack whispered. "What do we do?"

Frank could tell he was on the verge of losing his composure. The Old Man quickly stowed his sword back in its sheath. "Guns!" he exclaimed, trying hard to put some meas-ure of confidence in his voice. "Put your back against mine and start firing. Don't stop until we're the only motherfuckers standing in this cornfield. Do you understand?"

Jack swallowed hard, "Yes," was all he said.

"And whatever you do, don't let one of them bite you."

"Right," Jack said, replacing his sword on his back and pulling two 9mm semi-automatic pistols from their hol-sters. Frank thought his oldest boy sounded a little surer of himself.

The Old Man pulled an Uzi that was strapped to his back and began to fire, holding the grip of the weapon with his left hand in an effort to control the kick.

The Uzi spoke in short barks, tearing through cornstalks and werewolves alike. Frank could hear the rapid fire of the two 9's Jack held as well as the satisfying cries of pain from the creatures moving in on them. They may just make it out of this one.

Just then, Frank noticed something that turned his blood ice cold. The werewolves they shot were falling dead, but there were more moving in behind them, only these were not creeping, but running at full speed.

The clip on Frank's Uzi went empty and he dropped the gun and pulled two .45's from his belt. The werewolves were getting closer and there seemed to be an endless stream of them hiding in the giant cornfield.

Frank turned to his right in time to see a large were-wolf leaping toward him. He raised the .45 in his right hand and the cannon like blast sent the creature reeling back the direction it had come with the top of it's head torn off.

Jack kept his pistols blazing until they were both empty. He then tossed the guns aside and pulled two more 9's from shoulder holsters. The werewolves were unlike anything he had ever imagined. Oh, how TV and movies had lied to him. These things walked on their hind legs and at full height were nearly ten feet tall. Now that they were on full attack they weren't bothering to lay low and hide in the stalks. Be-sides, there weren't a lot of stalks left to hide behind, especial-ly where Frank had used the Uzi.

As the werewolves drew closer, they began to swipe at them with long, hideous claws. They didn't seem to be mindless killers at all, but organized, intelligent beings.

Suddenly the werewolves were coming at them in waves, and Frank and Jack both knew the next time they ran out of bullets, they were dead.

One of Frank's .45's blew a gaping hole in a were-wolf's chest, while another's eye exploded from Jack's 9mm slug. This one's throat erupted in a volcanic shower of blood. That one's crotch caught a searing round and it let out a high pitched squeal as it fell. This one got the 45 point blank in the mouth, covering the monster behind it with brain and shattered teeth. That one got the 9mm point blank and it's heart disintegrated in it's chest. On and on it went until finally, Frank and Jack's guns were clicking on empty chambers.

This was it.

Both men knew they were about to die.

Jack closed his eyes, while Frank only stared up de-fiantly at the werewolf in front of him, it's claw raised in preparation of tearing the old man's face off.

With the suddenness of a lightning crash, there was an eruption of automatic gunfire and the werewolf that was about to strike Frank was being riddled with bullet holes. Frank and Jack (as well as all of the werewolves surrounding them) turned to see were the shots had come from. A smile came over the Old Man's face as he watched the hearse plow through the cornfield with his youngest son laying flat on the roof and firing an AR-15 into the large crowd of werewolves.

Frank was not one to let an opportunity like this pass by. "Swords!" he yelled pulling his sword from its sheath once more.

Jack followed suit, and the two men began hacking away at the surrounding creatures as they cleared a path to the hearse.

The oldest Writeman boy could feel all the fear start-ing to rush from his body as it was replaced by pure adrena-line. Now that he had the sword in hand, and for the first time noticed the ease at which it sliced through their attackers, he knew he was lost to the total carnage. Although it shamed him to admit it, killing werewolves was something he could get used to.

After turning back toward the graveyard, the hearse came to a stop well clear of the pursuing werewolves. Benny jumped off the roof and yelled to his Father and Brother. "Get in the back, I'll cover you."

Frank and Jack opened the door and jumped in the back of the car while Benny picked off the werewolves with amazing accuracy.

After the two men were in the back, Benny ran for the passenger side door and jumped in.

"Go!" he shouted.

Autumn laid her foot on the gas and the car wheels began to spin in the soft soil of the cornfield.

"Shit!" Benny exclaimed, "Just try to pull out slow-ly."

Autumn let off the gas and then began to press the peddle back down, lightly. She glanced into the rearview mir-ror and could see the monsters were closing in fast.

Looking in the back, Benny saw his Father hand Jack an AK-47 and then grabbed a belt that had six fist sized balls hanging from it.

"Ha ha, watch this," Frank shouted maniacally, throwing the belt out the back window. Two seconds later, there was a large explosion and about twenty werewolves fell dead.

"Holy shit!" Jack shouted.

"Silver shrapnel grenades," the old man said, still grinning.

Autumn had the car moving well now and soon they were back in the graveyard's narrow, winding road. She felt the car pull as they hit a curve and knew she had to slow down or they would end up hitting one of the many surrounding trees.

The werewolves were not letting up in their pursuit despite the constant blasts from Jack's gun. Autumn had to slow down again as they rounded another sharp curve and that was all it took for two of the creatures to leap onto the roof of the car.

"Get down!" Frank shouted at the others as he pushed Jack to lay flat on his back. An instant later, an earsplitting ripping sound filled the interior of the hearse as sharp, black claws tore away the metal of the roof.

Jack tried desperately to pull his rifle up to fire, but had somehow pinned it underneath his leg when his father had pushed him backward.

A heavy explosion sounded to Jack's right and he knew the Old Man had gotten his hands on another .45. A shower of blood rained down on the two men in the back of the car and Jack caught just a glimpse of the creature's body as it rolled off the back of the hearse. A large, bloody hole had been made in it's chest.

The sound of crashing glass caught both of the men's attention and their blood covered clothes were quickly forgot-ten. The second werewolf had put a hairy, clawed hand through the passenger side window and was trying to pull Benny out of the car.

Frank quickly stood up and peered through the new moon roof the first wolf had created. He took the only shot he had and a second later the creature was yelping from the slug that entered it's ass.

Using it's claws to steady itself, the werewolf turned it's attention on the Old Man. Another shot from the .45 sprayed werewolf brain across the colorful leaves that littered the road side. The creature's headless body tumbled off the hearse and Frank dropped back down through the opening.

Autumn had finally pulled onto the main road and was beginning to pick up speed. A few of the more determined werewolves stayed on their tails but were quickly disposed of by Jack's AK-47.

Soon there wasn't a werewolf in sight and the Writemans were back on the road, all of them breathing hard and letting the adrenaline drain from their bodies.

Frank looked around at his family and abruptly shouted; "I don't know about you guys, but that was about the most goddamned fun I've had in my whole life."

The others looked at the old man in disbelief for a moment, but their faces soon gave way to relieved laughter and Autumn kept driving west until dawn.

9. Anderson, Fields, and Sanctuary

Molly Holden had been cleaning the Writeman bank building for five years now and she'd gotten to the point where she moved through her work without much thought. Her job was far from glamorous and the shear monotony was enough to bring her to the edge of insanity at times. So, when she found the four dead bodies on the floor of Mr. Writeman's office, her shock was accompanied by a shameful feeling of glee at the prospect of some excitement in her otherwise dreary life. She still managed a scream as she ran from the office to the receptionist area to dial 911.

Detective Gloria Perez of the Triloville Police De-partment arrived on the scene an hour later, when the forensics team was well into their investigation. Her partner, Detective Eric Peterson (who was still a little wet behind the ears in his second year as a detective) was currently combing the streets for Mr. Frank Writeman and his two sons, who, as it so happened, no one had heard from since Saturday afternoon at the conclusion of Benjamin Writeman's wife's funeral.

Detective Perez went through the violent mess with the proverbial fine tooth comb, taking great care to search every inch of the large office. When she had finally finished, nearly four hours had passed and she was left with more ques-tions than answers. When she saw the security tapes, things began to become clearer. Unbelievable, yes, but clearer none the less.

She was in the middle of combing the crime scene for a second time when her partner showed up. "Gloria," he yelled, stepping off the elevator.

"Hey, Eric, did you find out anything useful?" she asked.

"I don't know if it's useful, but there is definitely some weird shit going on in this town."

"I'm going to have to agree with you on that one. You go first."

"Okay, first I sent a squad car to each of the Write-man's houses. No one was home at any of them, but Frank and Ben's trucks were found parked at Jack's House."

"And Jack's car?"

According to his secretary he had a pimped out hearse in the garage, it is the only vehicle missing."

"I'm sorry, did you say pimped out?"

"Yeah, you know, customized. Flames down the side, cool rims."

"Alright, I got it."

"Also, Ben Writeman's house had been disturbed since his wife's murder investigation."

"Burglars?"

"Doubtful, nothing of value was missing, mostly just cloths, strangely enough, a lot of them were Autumn Write-man's cloths."

"Do you think the husband took them for sentimental value?"

"It is a possibility, but after I arrived at the house other evidence was found that pointed to anoth-er...possibility." Detective Peterson looked unsure of how to proceed.

"Go on."

"There were very faint, muddy shoe prints inside the house, coming in from the front door, into the kitchen, and finally up the stairs to the master bedroom, which is where we found the muddy shoes."

"And?"

"Size six, women's dress shoes. From there we en-tered the master bathroom where we found the muddy dress that Autumn Writeman was buried in."

"Strange," Gloria said.

"Yeah, it gets worse. We then proceeded to track the prints back to the source. As we walked down the sidewalk the tracks became more and more defined, and there was more and more mud around them. The tracks took us to the foot of Autumn Writeman's empty grave."

Gloria Perez looked horrified. "He dug up his wife's body?"

"Oh, no. No, it was pretty obvious the grave was dug from the inside out. Remember the shoe's."

"Right," Detective Perez said, dreamily. "The shoes."

"I know it sounds crazy," Eric said "but that's what we found. I thought it may be possible she wasn't dead, but she wouldn't have been able to break through the coffin plus a few feet of dirt."

She looked at him with a sympathetic grin. "It doesn't sound that crazy."

"What do you mean?"

"Follow me, I'll show you what I found."

Eric followed his partner to a shattered window at the front of the office.

"This window was busted from the inside," she be-gan. Looking out the window, Eric could see the broken glass lying on the pavement below. "There's no evidence as to what busted it, but there was no glass found on the inside of the office and no foreign objects below. It's as if something or someone went through this window and just floated away."

"Stray bullets?"

"Come over here."

Gloria led him to the left hand wall, which was rid-dled with bullet holes. "9mm slugs," she said, "the most this caliber would have done to glass that thick is cracks, maybe a hole, they wouldn't have shattered it like that. Now look at this. Do you notice anything strange about this bullet?"

She held up a slug that was dug out of the wall. Eric looked at it for a moment then shook his head.

"It's made out of silver," she continued.

"Oh yeah," the younger detective said in awe.

"Then there are the bodies." She bent down over one of the bodies and her partner did the same. "The coroner had trouble placing the time of death. He said their bodies ap-peared as though they had been dead for years but were somehow preserved, no decomposition, the wounds are clean, no blood flow, just a black hole where the bullet entered. And finally, there's this." She pulled the man's upper lip back to reveal a small pair of incisors above the normal ones. Then, she applied pressure above the strange teeth and they came down over the others.

"There are muscles connected to these teeth. They move their faces in a certain way and the muscles push these teeth down."

Detective Eric Peterson was staring at the hideous teeth with a mixed look of shock and terror. "Vampires?" he whispered.

Gloria only nodded her head.

"That can't be," Eric continued. "Surely, this is part of some elaborate prank."

"As much as I'd like to believe that myself," Gloria returned, "our final piece of evidence is perhaps the most con-clusive and most disturbing part of this case." She then led Eric to a corner of the office where a TV and VCR were set up."

"This is the security tape from Saturday night, watch closely," she said, pushing play on the VCR.

The picture on the screen was snowy for a second, and then Mr. Writeman's office came up from a diagonal angle behind the desk. Frank Writeman could be seen rummaging through his drawers and packing things into a small satchel as if he were preparing for a short business trip. Suddenly, the door opened and Frank Writeman stopped what he was doing, looked up from his desk, and began to hold a conversation with someone who, as far as Detective Eric Peterson's keen eye's could tell, wasn't actually there.

"Keep watching," Gloria said, "it gets better."

Eric watched the old man as he pulled a gun from his belt with astonishing quickness and fired in four different di-rections. Then he leveled the gun at the door and appeared to talk a little more before he started firing again.

"See," Gloria said in Eric's ear, "he doesn't fire at the window, but it shatters anyway, with no reason at all. Unless there was a fifth man, a vampire that jumped through that window and..."

Eric watched the bank owner pull a second gun and fire double fisted around the room, then the window shattered, seemingly on its own.

"Turned into a bat and flew away." Eric finished with an astonished look on his face.

"Maybe."

Gloria and Eric stared at each other in stunned silence that was only broken by a uniformed officer urgently bustling through the door.

"Detectives, more bodies have been found."

"Where?" Gloria asked.

"We secured a warrant to enter Jack Writeman's house where twelve more men were found shot and killed. There's also a report that just came in from a farm just outside of Omaha, Nebraska. A farmer discovered what could only be described as a massacre deep in his cornfield and in the graveyard behind it."

"Is there anything that would connect those murders to the ones here in town?" asked Detective Peterson.

"Sixty eight bodies were found; men and women," the officer continued, "all of them were naked, a few were cut into pieces, but the rest were shot with silver bullets."

The two detectives exchanged a surprised look.

Gloria Perez thanked the officer and dismissed him. Once he was gone she turned to her partner and asked; "What should we do?"

"Isn't it obvious? The Writeman family is on a mur-dering spree the likes of which this country has never seen. We have to stop them one way or the other."

"But, look at what their killing. Vampires! And in what story in your entire life have you heard about nude vam-pires attacking anyone?"

Eric thought about it a moment, "I can't really think of any."

"That's right. Now, what about werewolves?"

"Oh, come on, Gloria, this is getting a little ridicul-ous."

"Those bodies in Omaha were found outside in the sunlight. If they were vampires they'd have been fried, but instead they reverted back to human form. The bodies that were found here in town were all indoors. You're saying you don't believe all of the evidence that you've seen."

"I'm saying; before we go and jump to conclusions about mythical creatures, we should eliminate any other possibilities. Regardless of the reasons why the Writemans are killing people, they are still killing people and it is our job to stop them."

Gloria sighed through her teeth. "Your right."

"Besides," Eric continued, "when it comes right down to it, there's probably a perfectly logical explanation for all of this."

"Your partner's right, ma'am" A deep voice bellowed from the doorway.

The two detectives jumped and turned to see a pair of large men in sharp, grey suits standing in the doorway.

"Sorry if we startled you," the black one said in a slightly higher tone than his friend. "I'm Agent Anderson and this is my partner, Agent Fields, we're with the FBI, and we are officially taking control of this case."

The two detectives exchanged a disappointed look.

"Is there nothing we could do to help?" Gloria asked.

"I'm afraid not," Agent Fields said in his deep tone. "We're with a special branch of the FBI that deals specifically with these types of strange cases."

"What, like the X-files?" Eric asked, with a nervous laugh.

"Well, kind of," Fields continued, "but we really don't care for that comparison. We believe there is always a reasonable explanation for these strange occurrences, and in most cases, we find that explanation."

"And in the other cases?" Gloria asked.

"Sorry?"

"You said 'most cases', what about the others?"

"I'm sorry, we cannot answer anymore questions. Now if you would please leave us, my partner and I would like to proceed with our investigation."

The two detectives were then rushed to the elevators by the two agents.

"And remember," Agent Anderson said before the elevator doors close, "this case is now officially top secret. It would be very unwise for you to talk about it or pursue it any further."

Something in the agent's eyes absolutely terrified Gloria Perez, and she and her partner (along with every other officer involved in the case) never spoke of this day to each other again. Eric was so intimidated by the agents that he de-cided to forget this day ever started. Gloria, however, was too intrigued by the whole thing to give it up so easily. She may have to investigate on her own time, but she still had too many questions that needed answered.

With the two detectives finally out of their way, Agent Anderson and Agent Fields went to work.

Right about the time Benny and the others were es-caping the werewolves, a man with no name (at least not one that anyone would remember) was running for his life down a steep hillside somewhere in Colorado.

Though the full moon shone down from the sky, the stranger had a hard time seeing through the dense forest sur-rounding him. His feet kicked up hundreds of dead leaves, slightly slowing his progress, but he knew he was nearing the bottom of the hill, he may just get away.

Suddenly, a large figure draped in shadows dropped down in front of him. The creature brought itself up to full height (which had to be close to nine feet) and glared down at the stranger with red, glowing eyes.

The stranger made a move as if to run around the monster, but with a speed blurred motion the thing's arms shot out, revealing giant, bat like wings.

"RAAAAAAH!" the creature screeched. The sound was like ten thousand fingernails running down a blackboard.

Terrified, the man screamed until his lungs were empty. The bat-thing grabbed the man's head in one hand and his left shoulder in the other, lowered its head, and sank it's vampire teeth into his neck.

As the monster drank, it's ears began to twitch as someone new, but not entirely unexpected entered the woods. The creature dropped it's victim and turned toward the new-comer. The thing began to shrink, it's bat wings becoming a flowing black cape, it's monstrous facial features becoming the face of a handsome and wise middle aged man. Soon the horrific monster looked more like a New York City power broker.

"Welcome, Odin Sway," the handsome man said with a kind smile. His accent was ancient and difficult to place. "I've been expecting you."

"I'm sorry to interrupt the hunt, my lord," Odin said, with a bow.

"Please, Odin, it is always a pleasure to see one of my brightest children."

"A situation has arisen my lord, and I find myself in need of your guidance and wisdom."

"Walk with me," the Vampire lord motioned to his prey and Odin walked to the limp body and flung it over his shoulder with ease. "I am well aware of your current situa-tion," the vampire lord continued, "and I am fully prepared to offer you sanctuary at my home."

"I am most grateful to you, my lord," Odin said as they walked back up the incline, "and I do apologize that things got so out of hand."

"Of course, Odin, I do not blame you. I only regret that your masters were killed, I would have liked to been able to deal with them myself. You are welcome to stay with me for as long as you'd like. I have a meeting with Deppleo later and I will confer with him about the right solution to this prob-lem. He is not pleased with the attention we're getting from the Writemans, and others who have discovered their handy work."

Odin Sway had never met Deppleo, but he couldn't help the shiver that rose up the spine he always got at the mere mention of his name. Not much was known about the vampire god, except the various deeds he was responsible for throughout history, and absolutely no one knows what he looks like. Only the twelve vampire lords were ever allowed to meet with him, and even then he was not seen. It was always rumored amongst the lesser vampires that he's able to control the very shadows around him, always keeping himself shrouded in darkness.

"The only thing that is still a mystery to me," the vampire lord continued, after a few minutes of silence, "is how they are able to track you so well?"

"It's the dead girl," Odin provided.

The vampire lord stopped walking and turned to look at his old friend. "What dead girl?"

"The one I...killed, she has returned from the dead. She has some sort of psychic connection to me; I've felt her in my mind."

"Interesting," the lord said thoughtfully. "They will eventually find their way here, and then we will see how de-termined they truly are."

10. Bar Fight

The year was 1999, and things were going well for both of the Writeman boys. Jack had begun a very successful funeral home, which was doing well for him, though that meant it was bad for his customers. Benny once asked him if he felt comfortable exploiting people's pain for his own finan-cial gain.

"Why not?" Jack answered, "Jerry Springer does it every day. Besides, I'm providing a valuable and necessary service to our community."

Although Jack's answer sounded very well rehearsed, Benny said nothing more on the subject. Not even Jack was able to predict his eventual fear of dead bodies.

Indianapolis had a thriving art community, albeit a very small one, and one of Benny's paintings had just won a place in an art showing downtown. He and Autumn had been living together in a small apartment on the southwest side of Indy, and wedding bells were definitely in the near future.

Frank's bank, on the other hand, was seeing hard times because of the bigger banks that kept popping up around town. Until one night when he was visited by an odd eccentric, with a pair of associates and an intriguing request.

Frank sat back in his desk chair and listened to the man with the cane and long, nearly white hair explain his pro-posal.

"That is a very tempting, though illegal offer you have there, but why are you coming to me?"

"Because, Mr. Writeman, we know that you are in desperate need for the money you stand to make off of this deal. Furthermore, we know you are very good at keeping secrets, you've done so well at keeping mine already."

Frank didn't have to ask what the man meant by this. Odin Sway had been a regular at the bank for over a year now and The Old Man had known he was a vampire almost right away. Frank had confronted him about it, insuring Odin he would tell no one as long as he didn't bring any trouble into his bank.

"I've always admired you for your boldness in ap-proaching me, Frank," Odin continued, using The Old Man's name for the first time. "That's why I recommended you to my superiors for this opportunity."

Frank thought about the story Benny had told him a few years ago, of the monster crouched over some lifeless lump on a bathroom floor. He did not feel the least bit com-fortable going into business with these murdering, mythical creatures, but knew he liked the alternative even less.

"Alright, Odin," Frank finally replied, making sure he used the vampire's first name in return, "count me in."

"Excellent!" The vampire exclaimed, though still somehow kept his face from showing any emotion what so ever. "All dealings with our group will be handled through me and no one else. Because this is an illegal venture, our contract will be strictly verbal and all account information must be handled by you and no one else. Agreed?"

"Agreed." The two men shook hands and soon, all of Franks financial woes were no longer an issue.

As the Writemans sped down the road, Benny re-counted his confrontation with Odin Sway.

"I wonder why he acted so strange when he saw Au-tumn," Jack said, "and what was up with the werewolves? Why did you read them as being Odin?"

"Well I do have a theory on that," Autumn answered, "If he has some kind of psychic ability, he may have been able to leave his imprint on the werewolves' minds."

"Weird!" Jack returned.

Once the sun came up, the Writemans decided it was safe to stop and get some rest at the nearest motel. Benny and Autumn got a separate room from Frank and Jack, and the latter two decide to get some breakfast, while the former two retired to bed.

Jack wasn't really even clear where they were. He thought they might still be in Nebraska, but at that point, it didn't make a whole lot of difference. Autumn knows Odin Sway is hiding out in northern Colorado (high up in the Rock-ies, presumably) and that was where they were heading later this afternoon.

There was a small diner across the street from the motel, Frank and jack went in and took a seat in a booth near the window so they could keep an eye on the car and view anything strange that might happen outside. They were imme-diately approached by an elderly woman sporting a bee hive hairdo, whose mouth was busy smacking away at a piece of gum.

"What can I get for you fellas?" the waitress asked.

Frank had to squint his old eyes to read the girl's name tag. "Hi, Judith, I'd like some scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and some orange juice."

"Okay, and for you?" she said, turning to Jack.

Jack only stared at the woman's hair with a dazed expression.

"Is there a problem, honey?" she inquired of the younger man.

Jack stammered a moment, "Um, no, I was admiring your hair. You don't see many women with bee hives anymore and I, for one think it's a style that never should have gone away."

Judith the waitress only stared at him for a long while, lips still busily smacking away at her gum. Jack won-dered if she was going to buy that line of bull and he suddenly felt like a used car salesman pulling for some poor sucker to sign a deal.

Finally, a smile spread across the waitress's face and she said, "Why thank you. You know, so few people appre-ciate it. Now, what would you like?"

"Pancakes and milk, thanks."

"Oh, and can we get today's paper?" Frank added.

"Sure."

The waitress walked away and Frank lowered his head and began speaking in a hushed voice. "You know, I think you could sale a seeing eye dog to a deaf man."

Jack only answered this with a shrug.

"Listen, while you were sleeping in the car, I called James to get a little info on werewolves."

"Cool," Jack said with excitement. The previous night of carnage had seemed to make Jack loosen up and become more interested in the supernatural world they were now tangled up in. "What did you find out?"

"Well, according to his information, which comes from an actual hunter who's been successfully killing these things for a few years, they don't need a full moon to change. As long as its night time, they can change at will, however, a full moon does make them much more powerful. Their also highly intelligent, far from the mindless killing machines they're portrayed to be in popular media."

"I don't know," Jack said with a satisfied smile, "we sure did make them look like a bunch of stupid pussies last night."

A snorted laugh escaped Frank. "Yeah, we did, didn't we?"

The two of them laughed together, and it dawned on Frank that he had never been as close to his sons as he had been for the past three days.

"You know, Jack," the Old Man said after the laughs had died away, "I realize this has been a real strange trip, but I'm glad you decided to take it. This whole thing has brought us together as a family like nothing else before."

"Yeah, maybe we should write a book," Jack held his hands up as if seeing some imaginary marquee, "I can see the title now, 'Killing Things: How to Fix a Dysfunctional Fami-ly'."

The two men were hit with fresh laughter as the wai-tress arrived with their food and the morning paper. As Jack began to wolf down his pancakes like a starving, wild beast Frank scanned through the front section and was relieved to find nothing about the Writeman family killing spree. Al-though, he didn't really know what he was expecting to find. Autopsies would certainly show some strange facts about the bodies they had left behind, but somehow he doubted any of those facts would make it to the public.

Jack had already finished his pancakes and was waving the waitress down to order more, acting as if he hadn't eaten in days. Frank took a few bites of egg and pulled out the sports section.

"Well, what do you know," he said, surprised, "the Colts are 7-0 on the season, and they beat Denver yesterday."

"Aw shit, I bet that was a good game."

"Maybe."

"Hey, this is their year, Dad; the Colts are going to be Super Bowl champs."

"Aw, bullshit," Frank stated with a look of disgust, "no team can make it very far with a defense like that, they've been lucky so far."

"7-0 is not luck, Dad. Besides, three of their major defensive linemen are on the injury list and two of them are due to be back next week. Things are only going to get better for them."

"You know, I watch this team every year, and every year it's the same shit. They play like world beaters all season, and then they get to the playoffs and choke in the first or second round. I'm tired of it, and I won't waste my time fol-lowing them anymore."

"Then why do you still follow politics."

Frank looked confused. "What does one have to do with the other?"

"Think about it. No sane person is happy with the current administration, but we keep following politics and we keep voting in the hopes that something good will eventually happen. Things don't always turn out the way you want them to, but you have to keep supporting your political party of choice and your hometown team with the hopes that they go on to win the whole thing."

Frank only stared at his oldest son for a long moment.

"What?" Jack asked, fearing he had said something stupid.

"When did you become so insightful?"

Frank was surprised to see Jack's cheeks flush. "It's the weed, it fuels my philosophical side."

The two shared another laugh as they finished eating their breakfast and spent the next two hours talking about football and politics, before finally turning in.

Frank actually slept for five whole hours.

While Frank and Jack were eating breakfast, Benny and Autumn were lying in bed face to face, staring at each other in silence, their cloths lying in a heap on the floor. Au-tumn had just finished cleaning Benny's cuts, luckily none of them where deep enough for stitches.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she whispered.

"Of course I am," he answered, though he wasn't entirely sure that was true. At that point he was very thankful that he had refused an autopsy, otherwise she would have a stitched up scar covering her midsection on top of everything else that was causing his hesitation.

He placed his hand on her left breast and nearly yanked it back when he felt how very cold her skin had be-come. He made a conscience effort to keep any discomfort from showing on his face.

She leaned forward and kissed him and again he nearly flinched at her freezing touch. Her lips parted and her tongue entered his mouth, exploring with slow intent. Some-how, her mouth felt very warm and Benny began to feel more at ease. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her body closer to his. He could feel his penis growing hard now. Yes, this body was dead, but his wife was fully alive within it.

This was his love.

His life.

The woman he had made love to on countless occa-sions before. Soon, he couldn't understand how he ever could have felt uncomfortable with her in any way.

She reached down between his legs and he felt her cold hand close around his warm throbbing manhood and begin to stroke it, slowly.

The passion in their kiss increased as his hand moved to her buttocks and squeezed the left cheek.

With great effort, she broke their kiss and said; "I brought something from home."

While she turned to reach to the floor were her purse was sitting, Benny took one of her nipples into his mouth and began to suck and playfully bite at it. The low temperature of her body seemed to make her nipples unbelievably hard.

Autumn turned back to Benny with a tube of lubri-cant in her hand. "Like I said, my pipes don't work so well anymore. Besides it's got warming sensation."

Benny got to his knees and let Autumn apply the lubricant to the both of them and was surprised at just how warm the stuff was.

Autumn lay back on the bed and Benny hovered above her for a moment, sharing another kiss before entering her.

They made love for 30 minutes, and when they fi-nished, they did it again.

Jack still hadn't come down from the excitement of the previous night and though he lay down for an hour, he was unable to sleep. So, he decided to explore the sleepy little town they had stumbled upon.

There wasn't much to the place, just the diner, the motel, a gas station, and some old houses were immediately visible from where he stood. Further down the street he could see a neon sign that advertised a country and western bar.

He crossed the street back over toward the diner and continued down the sidewalk toward a building that looked absolutely ancient.

The building, as it turned out, had three small shops in it, the first of which was an auto parts store. He stopped in and picked up a couple of quarts of oil for the hearse. He knew the old death cab had a tendency to burn through the oil and figured it would be pretty low by now.

The second store specialized in women's clothing and, though Jack found the lace teddy in the window damn sexy, he decided it was probably best to keep walking.

The space on the far corner of the building housed a small book store. Jack walked in and was amazed at the amount of old books the owners of the place were able to fit in the tiny store. He wasn't much of a reader, but he was sure Benny and Autumn would love to check the place out.

He browsed a couple of sections and was about to leave when he noticed a little doorway at the back of the store that was separated by strings of colorful beads. The sign above the door read "Adults Only".

A smile stretched across Jack's face and he rubbed his hands together mischievously as he passed through the beads.

Inside, the small room's walls were lined with racks upon racks of adult magazines. If Jack Writeman was able to mold his own personal heaven, this would be it.

Against the back wall, he found several white boxes with yet another sign attached. This one read; "Back Issues".

With a sudden nervous glee, he began to search through the back issues of Playboy and after only a few second he found what he was looking for.

He held the magazine up in front of him and could swear he heard a choir of angels sing its praise.

After making his purchase, Jack went back to the motel.

At around 5:00pm, Benny woke up to the sound of someone knocking at his door. Reaching for a 9mm he had grown rather fond of, he looked down at Autumn and found her staring blankly up at the ceiling.

"Autumn?" Benny asked, with a touch of concern apparent in his voice. "Are you alright?"

She looked at him and smiled, "I'm fine," she ans-wered dreamily. "You don't have to worry about the gun, it's only Jack."

Benny stared at her for a long moment, and then another knock came from the door. Wrapping a sheet around himself, he walked around the bed to the door, keeping the pistol in hand despite his wife's prediction of his brother's presence.

Benny cracked the door open and saw Jack's face on the other side on the other side. "Hey, bro, I found a little shit kicker bar down the street, I was wondering if you'd like to come and have a drink with me?"

"Sure," Benny said, "just give me a few minutes to get dressed"

Benny closed the door and began to pull on his pants. Autumn sat up and began to dress as well. After the two of them were fully clothed, Benny bent and gave his wife a long deep kiss.

"Just remember," she said, "Frank wanted to be back on the road by 6:00, make sure you two are back and ready."

"Aye Aye, Captain," Benny said with a salute.

"Fuck you," Autumn returned, giggling.

He kissed her again, "I love you."

"I love you too, Benny."

On the other side of the door Benny found his brother sitting on the hood of some stranger's car, smoking a joint and reading a beat up copy of Dracula by Bram Stoker.

"Where'd you get that?" Benny asked.

"Oh, there's a little used book store across the road, there," he pointed to a small unmarked building next to the diner, "I wasn't able to get any sleep, so I found a piece of sheet metal to patch up that hole in the roof of the hearse, (and don't worry, I'll turn that into a bitchin moon roof when we get back home), I also decided to do some exploring around town. Oh, look at what else I found," he picked a brown, paper bag up off the ground, reached inside and produced a slightly beat up Playboy magazine.

"The Tiffany issue," Benny said, feigning interest.

"Yeah, I finally got it back for my collection. Man, that book store must have had hundreds of back issues."

"Is that right?" Benny said as they began to walk.

"Yeah," Jack continued, "and you know, this is really a nice little town. They got everything you need right here on Main St. There's a liquor store, a church, a diner, a bar, they even have a small electronics store that has a limited selection of CD's."

"Really? Did they have anything good?"

"No, everything was shitty."

"Okay. So, are you going to get to a point sometime soon?"

"I'm just saying; this is the type of place I could see myself retiring someday."

"Well that's cool. Where the hell are we, anyway?

"I have no idea."

Ten minutes later, they were walking into a small country, western bar. Benny rolled his eyes when he heard the twang of the latest rich kid complaining about how hard he's got it blaring from the jukebox in the corner. "Alright," he said, "but we're only staying for a couple of drinks, you know I can't stand this backward, butt fucking, hick music for very long, and just so you know, if they start playing dueling ban-jo's I'm fucking sprinting out of this dive."

"Alright, alright."

They walked over to the nearest table and sat down. A few minutes later they were approached by a waitress who looked like she might have been pretty thirty years ago. Jack ordered two shots of whisky rye, and shortly after the two men were toasting the breasts of some up and coming actress that Benny had never heard of.

"I'm telling you, man, they're a good size and look fantastic," Jack finished.

"I'll have to take your word for it, Jack." Benny re-sponded, slinging the warm liquid down his throat. "So, is there a specific reason you wanted to get me here?"

Jack pulled a small bottle of clear liquid out of the pocket of his pullover. "Just this, Benny, I want you to take a shot of this with me."

Benny glanced around the bar, "I don't think these people would appreciate you bringing outside alcohol into their establishment."

"Ah, don't worry about them," Jack said as he re-filled the shot glasses. "Cheers!"

Benny picked up his glass and gave his brother a look of doubt.

"C'mon," Jack said, faking hurt at Benny's hesita-tion, "I'm your brother, have I ever let you down."

"Well, no, not recently anyway," Benny braced him-self for what he assumed to be moonshine and drank the liquid down. Much to his surprise, there was no burning sensation in his throat, or terrible shock to his taste buds. As a matter of fact, the stuff didn't have a taste at all.

"What do you think?" Jack asked, after downing his own.

"Is this...water?"

"It's not just water, its holy water. I've been drinking it all day. You see, I got this idea; if we drink a bunch of holy water and one of those fuckers sinks their teeth into us, what do you think will happen."

Benny shrugged his shoulders.

"Jesus Christ, Benny, use your imagination, if they get one of us we'll take one of them with us. It's brilliant, right?"

"That is pretty clever," Benny admitted, "but, since when are you so anxious to fight more of these things?"

"The cornfield, man, fighting those werewolves was just such a rush. Me and the Old Man really fucked them up out there, you know? I know this is going to sound corny (no pun intended), but we've never been a real close family, I mean you and I have a good relationship; we hang out, shoot some pool and get fucked up once a week. The past few days I've felt closer to you guys than ever and I know Dad feels the same way."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Benny said with a smile, although he was only partially listening. His attention had been averted by two well dressed individuals who had just walked in.

Jack could tell by the change in his brother's posture that trouble had just pulled a seat up at the bar. "Who is it?" he asked.

"Two men, very well dressed, one of them keeps stealing glances this way."

"Suns not down yet, couldn't be vampires."

"I guess," Benny said uncertainly.

The two men threw back a shot each, then slid off their stools and walked toward Benny and Jack.

"You boys look familiar, have we met before?" the black man asked.

"I don't think so." Benny answered.

The other man spoke in a deep voice, "Why don't we buy you a couple of drinks and maybe we could figure it out?"

Benny glanced out the window and saw the sun was quickly setting. "Sorry, friends, but we really must be hitting the road."

"Maybe we could persuade you to change your mind," the black one said. They each reached into their jacket pockets and pulled out small leather wallets and, like bad ac-tors in a 70's cop show, flipped them open to reveal F.B.I. credentials.

"Yeah," deep voice said sarcastically "now it's com-ing back to me, you're two of the three guys wanted by the F.B.I. for going on a killing spree across the country."

Benny's heart must have skipped three beats, as a sudden feeling of hopelessness filled his entire body. He dropped his hand stealthily to the butt of the gun that was tucked in his belt. He couldn't let it end here.

Autumn was dressed and ready to go when Frank came knocking at the door.

"C'mon, we got to hit the road, it's almost sundown." Her father-in-law glanced around her room and added. "Where are the boys?"

"You haven't seen them?"

"No."

"They went for a drink at a bar down the street, but they should've come back by now, I just figured they were with you."

Frank looked down the street with concern. "We bet-ter go find them."

A few hundred miles away, Odin Sway was standing in a dimly lit room next to the lord of his clan, watching in awe as their god quietly approached them.

Deppleo is the beginning, the father of all vampires. The torchlight seemed to bend away from him as he passed, creating an ever present shadow over his presence. No one had ever been privileged enough to behold the true identity of Deppleo, but Odin felt greatly honored just to be standing in the same room.

"Oh, Great One," the vampire lord said, bowing low, "lend us your wisdom in this time of tragedy."

"I have no wisdom to share," the god said in a low rumble, "though my anger is overflowing. These humans have killed far too many vampires already and I'm beginning to think all of our years spent building a superior species have been wasted. Obviously sending an unlimited supply of lesser vampire after them is not working, so I will leave it to you two to come up with a solution to this problem. However, I want to make one thing understood; I want the killing of my child-ren to stop, or I will hold the both of you personally responsi-ble. Do I make myself clear?"

The vampire lord stared unblinkingly at the dark form before them, "You are positively transparent in your directness."

"Good," Deppleo said as he turned to leave, "now if you'll excuse me, I am a busy man these days."

"Of course."

Odin thought it was best to keep silent and watch the old god disappear into the darkness at the corner of the room. The vampire lord then raised one hand above his head and snapped his fingers. A few seconds later a bat flew in through an opened window and fluttered patiently around the two vampires.

Vlad seemed to be searching for the right thing to say to the newcomer. Finally he let out a series of squeaks and screeches and the bat flew up through the window from which it came.

"Now, Odin, my friend," The ancient vampire said with a satisfied smile, "we will let your new found fan club find their way here, then I will welcome them in my own spe-cial way. I do so love surprises."

Benny was a split second away from setting his guns ablaze on the F.B.I. agents when he heard his father's boom-ing voice; "Hey, Boys, where you been. Are you going to in-troduce me to your new friends?"

The old man gave Benny a look that seemed to say 'don't do anything stupid' and Benny slowly removed his hand from the gun.

"Hey, Dad," Jack interjected, "this is Agent Anderson and Agent Fields of the F.B.I." The two agents reached inside their pockets and produced their I.D.'s once again.

"Wow, feds huh? I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of meeting real life F.B.I. agents. Let me ask you something; is there really a division for weird shit like on that show 'The X-files'?"

Ol' deep voice gave Frank a disbelieving look. "You don't know how often we get that question."

Just then, the front door of the bar banged open and several sharp dressed gentlemen walked in. Frank moved to the seats directly in front of the agents and leaned in to whis-per to them. "Look, I'm going to level with you guys. Where on a mission to avenge my daughter-in-law, who came back from the dead and is waiting outside in the car, and the men who are responsible for her death are vampires, five of which we were able to kill while they were sleeping, but the sixth one keeps getting away from us and we've had to kill a number of vampires and werewolves who have gotten in our way. Now, those guys who just walked into the bar are vampires and they are here looking for us, so I have to tell you if you value your lives you'll get up and walk out of this joint right now, because some scary shit is about to go down."

The two agents shared a comical look.

"Don't you worry about us Mr. Writeman," the black one said, "I think we can handle ourselves against any 'vam-pire'." He used his fingers for the universal gesture for quota-tion marks.

"It's not the vampires you have to worry about," Frank said with a sly, crooked smile.

Now, Agent Anderson looked down right pissed off. "Are you threatening a government official, Mr. Writeman?"

"No, I'm threatening a couple of worthless, mangy, filth ridden, shit eating, butt sniffing, no good, cock smoking, goddamned, werewolves."

The two agents shared another look; only their sar-casm was gone, replaced by a mixture of shame and anger.

"Don't look so surprised," Frank continued, "if you're going to wear a disguise you might as well go all the way. When you opened your jackets to show me your credentials, I noticed neither of you are carrying a gun. Oh, but your proud hunters, right? It would be disgraceful to use man made weapons, even if it was on a man."

The old man stared at the two agents for a moment longer, and then, without warning, Benny's right hand came up in a flash. The 9 mm pistol roared three quick shots; the top of Agent Field's head tore off and flapped backward. He looked as if his toupee had been partially blown off by a gust of wind.

Frank had a .45 pulled and was blasting Agent An-derson in the chest midway through the werewolf's transfor-mation. The force of the bullets knocked the creature over in his seat.

The vampires at the bar were now moving toward them fast with fangs bared in hideous expressions of rage.

The Writemans began to move to separate sides of the bar in an attempt to split the vampires up among them. As they did, four more vampires entered through the front door. Benny spared a glance at Jack and was relieved to see a .38 revolver in his hand. He was afraid his big brother had forgot-ten to pack some heat.

Turning his attention back on the vampires, Benny lifted his gun and the dimly lit country and western bar sud-denly resembled a disco as gunshots flashed around the room. From his left, he heard Jack let out a scream that was followed by an inhuman shriek that could only be a vampire in great pain.

Benny turned to check on his brother, but the flashes from the guns had left a purple imprint on his eyes and he couldn't see if Jack was still in the same spot.

He sensed the vampire before he felt it tackle him to the ground. The creature now had Benny pinned to the floor, his arms crammed at his sides. The purple haze had begun to dissipate and Benny could clearly make out the sharp white fangs that were only inches from his face. Twisting his left hand, he managed to grip the small wooden stake that was tucked into his belt. He drove the stake into the vampire's crotch and felt gratified by the look of surprise that came over the creatures face. After knocking the thing off of himself, and putting a bullet in it's forehead, Benny went to work on the remaining vampires.

Frank was now out of bullets with no fresh clips left on his belt, so he was relieved to see that his attackers had stopped in their tracks, and every vampire in the room was now totally focused on a bat that had just entered from the open front door.

The bat flew to a light fixture that hung over the pool table and clung to the bottom of it. Hanging upside down, it spread its wings and let out a series of squeaks and screeches. The vampires collectively put their heads down, like a group of kids who were just told playtime was over and it's time to come in and take a bath, and walked out of the bar.

Benny looked over at Frank, "What the fuck was that all about?"

Frank only shrugged at his son, looking confused. The Old Man looked down at the floor and his confusion seemed to grow. "What could have caused that?"

Following his father's gaze, Benny found a pile of steaming, bubbling, blood and guts that he assumed was once a vampire. Then it suddenly dawned on him what could have caused the mess. He ran to an overturned table and tossed it aside to find his brother lying against the wall, holding his neck with his right hand.

"I ran out of bullets," Jack said weakly, "fucking revolver, I should have known better than to grab a fucking revolver to carry on me. I got him good, though, see Benny?"

"The holy water," Benny stated.

"That's right, man, the fucking holy water," Jack continued, and then, switching from triumphant to regretful. "Oh shit, maybe I shouldn't have said 'fuck' and 'holy water' in the same sentence. Do you think that would be seen as sa-crilegious?"

"Try to calm down, Jack." Frank interjected, "Let me have a look at your neck."

Slowly, Jack moved his hand away from his neck, revealing two small holes that were still oozing a good amount of blood.

"Come on, Benny," Frank said, "help me get him to the car; we need to get him to a hospital."

"Do you think they can help him?"

"I don't know, but we have to give it a shot."

Frank and Benny helped Jack to the passenger seat in the hearse. Benny joined Autumn in the back, and the old death cab peeled out of the bar's parking lot.

"I thought I was going to die on this trip," Jack told his father as they drove east toward the middle of town, "all this time I couldn't shake this feeling that I'm the bit actor in this tale, only written in so I could be killed in some horrible way by the monster we're all fighting. Then, earlier today, I was taking a shit back at the motel and I came to this crazy realization that I was kicking so much ass I might actually make it through. Now I'm lying here, dying."

"You're not dying," Frank said forcefully, "you're going to be alright."

"No, I'm not dying. At least not like everyone else dies. I'm turning into one of them, aren't I?"

Frank looked at his son sternly, "Yeah, and we don't have much time, but I think we can clean it out of your sys-tem. According to James, it's kind of like snake poison."

"He's wrong, Dad," Jack said breathlessly, "He's wrong."

"Just...just calm down, Jack, you're going to be alright."

Frank pulled the car into a medical center that he noticed when they had come into town. There were two men dressed in scrubs and puffing on cigarettes standing outside the automatic doors as he pulled up. He brought the car to a stop, flung his door open and approached the men.

"Hey," the old man said in an urgent tone, "can you give us a hand, my son has been hurt."

The younger of the two men looked the hearse up and down and said; "Dude, I think he's beyond our help."

"NO!" Frank shouted, making the two men flinch, "There is no time for jokes, he's not in the back, he's in the passenger seat."

The two followed Frank around the front of the car where they met Benny, who was just coming from the back. They all stopped and stared at the open passenger side door. Jack was gone.

Benny walked toward the parking lot, his eyes searching franticly; he began to shout his brother's name.

"JACK! JACK, COME BACK, PLEASE."

"Benny," Frank interrupted, "get back in the car."

Suddenly, Autumn was at his side with her cold hand in his. He looked down into her brown eyes and knew that this wasn't the time to go off looking for his brother.

After apologizing to the hospital employee's, the three of them managed to squeeze into the front of the hearse and in a matter of minutes they were back on the road, heading west.

"Why did he run away?" Benny asked, with tears rolling down his face, "Is he one of them now?"

"Not yet," Frank answered, "but, he will be, even-tually. I think he knew that and that's why he ran. He didn't want one of us to be forced to put him down."

"How long does it take to change completely?" Au-tumn inquired.

"Three or four weeks," Frank said, "and from what I understand, it's a fairly painful transformation."

"Maybe we could still help him," Autumn said, hope-fully.

"Right now we need to focus on one goal at a time, and our number one priority is finding Odin Sway and giving you the peace you deserve. Benny and I can find Jack after-ward and we'll do everything we can to help him."

"And if you can't help him?"

"There's an answer to every problem, if you look hard enough."

Benny remained quiet the rest of the trip, before long the sun began to rise and in the distance he could make out the dark shape of the Rocky Mountains.

11. Revenge and Redemption

Once Benny and Autumn were out of school, they were ready to get married and settle down together. Their wedding was small and inexpensive, and the honeymoon was a road trip to New York city, where they made stops at all the tourist attractions and even took the time to stop in and visit a friend from school that moved up there last year to try and be an actor in a Broadway musical.

Something that caught Benny's eye one day while they were about to enter Macy's department store, was a crazy, unwashed, old man who was wearing a large board sign that covered front and back, and read "Don't become one of them, it's time to fight back!!!"

"The vampires are taking our city from us," the man shouted. "Don't let them seduce you into their service. The time has come to fight back."

Benny couldn't help but stop and stare at the man for a few minutes, his mind going back to that night in a dark bathroom after a concert. A night he hadn't thought about for a couple of years.

When the man noticed he had gotten Benny's atten-tion, he stopped shouting and addressed him directly.

"You've seen one of them, haven't you? You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Autumn grabbed Benny's arm and pulled him away from the stranger.

"What are you doing?" Autumn asked. "This is my first time to New York too, but even I know to stay away from the crazies.

Benny let the issue drop for the moment, but he felt he had to share everything with Autumn. It was only later that night, while they were in the hotel room that he finally shared the full story with her, including the advice his father had giv-en him.

"Wow, that is some very cryptic advice," Autumn said once her husband had finished.

"Do you think I'm crazy?" he asked.

"Maybe a little."

"I know it's weird, but I'm sure what I saw was real. I have not suffered from hallucinations before that night and I haven't had any since. I haven't done any drugs stronger than weed, and that doesn't cause you to see things."

"You smoked some weed that night, maybe it was laced with something else."

"You, Jack and Marvin smoked the same stuff. Did you see anything strange that night?"

"No," Autumn said with a note of defeat.

"What if that old man on the street out there is right? What if there are vampires out there?"

"I guess we should just do what your father said, or else we will end up being the crazy fucks shouting about hor-ror movie creatures taking over the world. That's what it comes down to, ultimately. No one would believe us any more than they believe the guy with the sign."

Benny conceded this point, and though he couldn't do anything about this little issue, he felt a lot better knowing Autumn believed him and was on his side. The fact that she said "we" instead of "you" was enough to show just how much she really loved him, despite what others would see as the ramblings of a lunatic.

The Writemans didn't see another vampire the rest of their trip but Autumn's psychic gift was as strong as ever. They had to abandon the car and after two days they found themselves deep in the wilderness of the Rockies. The trees were bright and beautiful with the brilliant colors of Fall, and Autumn frequently commented about the ones she liked the best.

None of them were even sure they were in Colorado anymore, hell they could have been in Canada for all Benny knew. They had followed no map to get that far, there hadn't been any signs on the back roads they had followed; there was only Autumn's guidance.

By the time they started to ascend the steep incline of a mountain side, Autumn had started to look very bad. Her skin had gone past pasty white and had taken on an almost blue tint. Time was growing shorter.

"How much further, Autumn?" Frank asked after they had climbed 2/3 the way up the mountain.

"I don't know," Autumn said, "maybe 600 yards or so. A little ways through there," she pointed to a large area of the forest that had grown heavy with underbrush and looked very much as if someone wanted to keep people from entering the land beyond.

Frank and Benny pulled out there swords and began hacking away at the thick branches. With each section they cut down it seemed like more would pop up.

"I don't think where getting anywhere," Benny stated after ten minutes of work.

Frank looked back and forth down the line of brush, "Yeah, I think your right. Maybe there's a way around it."

As Frank spoke, Benny bent low to examine the branches closer. He was amazed to see that everything he had just cut down was growing back right before his eyes.

"Dad!"

The Old Man turned at Benny's call and followed his gaze to the old plant life. He saw what his son had found al-most immediately. The branches and vines he had cut down were slowly reappearing. Yes, it was slow, but far faster than any plant should grow.

"Guys," Autumn said from behind them, "I don't think it's growing, I think it's moving."

"What?" the two men asked in unison.

Then, without warning, the vines whipped out at them with lightning speed, wrapping around Benny and Frank and pulling them to the ground. For a moment, they both just laid there, completely bound by the vines. Autumn ran to Benny and tried frantically to get the vine off of him.

Then, like racing dogs just let out of the gate, the two men took off, speeding alongside the wall of vines.

Benny thought he had never moved so fast before in his life, the surrounding trees screamed by in a colorful blur. The thing dragged him across a tree stump and he hit his head hard on a rock as he came over the other side. He was sure he had blacked out, but couldn't tell how long. When he looked around again everything was distorted and blurry.

Suddenly, the two of them were yanked upward into the branches of the biggest weeping willow tree Benny had ever seen. He caught sight of his father as he dangled there, upside down, and could see the Old Man struggling to escape the vine's grasp. Benny wanted to get out of the trap, he needed to get out, but he still felt dazed and weak from the bump he took on the head.

Without warning, a heavy cracking sound traveled up the trunk of the tree and seemed to reverberate throughout every branch. The revolting sound made Benny's head throb like the string of a bass guitar.

The loud crack came again and Benny craned his neck up (which, in this case would have been down) and tried to find the source of the noise. His vision was still blurry, but he could make out a ghostly figure walking away from the base of the tree.

The newcomer backed away from the trunk and ran forward again, slamming into the tree with their shoulder as if trying to break down a door. The tree shuddered violently with the force of the impact.

Benny closed his eyes and tried hard to focus and stop his head from spinning. All the blood rushing to his head wasn't helping his pounding skull. He looked back toward the stranger on the ground and he was finally able to focus and the identity of the ghost became clear.

"AUTUMN?" he shouted, a fresh spike of pain shot through his head at the strain in his vocal chords. He watched again as Autumn ran to the tree and slammed into the trunk. The tree gave another shudder and the cracking sound grew louder and longer, as if the tree would split in half any minute.

The tree didn't split in half with Autumn's final blow, but it did fall over, pulling all of its roots out of the ground with it. As it came down, Benny saw his dead wife cling desperately to the trunk, trying hard to avoid the huge mound of earth that was pulled out with the roots.

When the weeping willow hit the ground, Frank and Benny were pulled violently through the branches before the vines finally loosened their grip and sent them tumbling to the dead leaves below.

Frank slowly got to his feet, every muscle in his body was aching and he had suffered a few cuts and bruises, other-wise he seemed to be in one piece. He looked around and found Benny lying a few yards away, his body seemed broken and motionless. The old man felt his heart sink.

After dragging his feet to the spot where his youngest son was, Frank dropped to his knees and carefully turned Benny over onto his back. A thousand images raced through his mind, all the fond memories he had of bringing up his baby boy.

"Benny," he pleaded, "please be okay."

Benny's eyes popped opened and he looked at his father, "My head is killing me."

Frank sighed with relief and wrapped his arms around Benny's head and shoulders.

"Head, Dad," Benny moaned, "watch the head."

With some effort and a lot of help from each other the two men got to their feet and began looking for Autumn. They found her sitting against a large boulder a short distance away from the upturned tree roots. With her chin resting on her chest and hair hanging over her face, she looked completely exhausted.

"Autumn, are you alright?" Benny asked.

The dead girl slowly raised her head, "I guess I still had a little of that superhuman strength left after all."

"Yeah, but it looks like you overdone it," Frank add-ed, "do you think you can walk at all."

Autumn stood up with help from her husband and father-in-law, when they let her go she stumbled and nearly fell on her face. The two men caught her and each put one of her arms around their shoulders.

"I think if I could just get some rest I'd get a little energy back," Autumn said in a weak, trembling voice.

Frank took a look at the surrounding woods, "Alright, we can set up camp for the night, but first I want to get as far away from this fucked up tree as possible."

With the tree out of the way, a path had cleared that would take them closer to their destination. Beat up and tired, the Writemans nevertheless remained completely on guard for any other traps that may be waiting for them.

The area beyond the weeping willow was vastly dif-ferent then the woods they had been traveling before. While the trees before were painted with bright fall colors, everything on this side was dead and ugly.

Before long they came to a wide clearing and Frank had the others hang back while he made sure the area was safe.

He finally came back and said, "Alright, we'll make camp here for the night, and in the morning, with the sun shin-ing bright, we'll make our way through those trees and Benny will stake that fucker in the heart."

"Sounds like a plan," Benny said, sounding ex-hausted. He plopped down on the ground and started to re-move his gear. He and his father were packing enough heat to fight a small army. "I think the tree was just a booby trap to keep wonderers out, we could keep a look out tonight, but I don't think they're going to fuck with us."

"Yeah, I know, and that doesn't really sit well with me. We may be walking into a trap. We'll keep a look out anyway."

"I'll keep a lookout," Autumn offered, "I don't need to sleep."

Benny was preparing to get some much needed rest when he heard a rattling sound come from his right. He looked up to see his father holding a small bottle of aspirin.

"When you get to be my age your always prepared," he said with a smile, "need some?"

"Hell yeah!" Benny exclaimed. He took some with the bottled water from his bag and soon felt the pain in his head fade.

The young man lay down and looking up at the dar-kening sky, he noticed the dancing lights of the aurora borealis for the first time since they had begun climbing the mountain. He had wanted to see the northern lights in person since he'd seen them in a John Wayne movie when he was a boy.

Benny fell asleep wondering if this would be the last time he saw them.

The cold early morning air chilled Benny and Frank as they broke through the remainder of the small wooded area. Autumn, on the other hand, looked completely comfortable and far better than she did the night before. The low temperature so high up the mountain seemed to be preserving her body, at least a little. For the first time Benny noticed a small green spot forming at the corner of her mouth as well as a few larger spots on her arms. Her dead body was starting to rot and Benny knew their journey would have to end here.

The trees and rocky ground this high were covered with fresh, virgin snow (the dead trees they had seen before had become less frequent, replaced instead by full, robust evergreens) and breathtaking didn't begin to describe the view of the surrounding mountains. Benny had to wonder to himself how an area so beautiful could house creatures as vile as vampires.

They climbed a slight hill and came to the edge of a wide stone bridge. Across the bridge stood a great castle that seemed to be built into the side of the mountain.

"Now that's impressive," Frank said. He looked up at the jutting roof and added; "This place is completely camouf-laged, even from the sky. If we didn't have Autumn guiding us we would have never found it."

"Alright," Benny said, "let's not shit ourselves."

The trio began to walk across the bridge when Benny noticed a large circular courtyard in front of the castle that was covered by a canopy, formed by several tall evergreen trees that seemed to bend forward to meet each other. Frank and Benny had taken a few more steps before they realized that Autumn had stopped walking.

"What is it?" Benny asked, seeing an expression of mixed horror and disgust on her face.

"Look," she said, pointing a shaking finger, "around the edge of the courtyard.

The two men looked to where Autumn was pointing and immediately saw what had shaken her so badly. Benny felt his stomach roll over and was sure that if he had eaten anything in the past twenty four hours, it would have been splattered on the rocky ground right then. There, forming a large circle around the courtyard, were approximately fifty long spears protruding from the ground, each one holding an impaled human body. A couple of the bodies were long dead skeletons and some others still looked fairly fresh, but many were still moving, trying desperately to escape their torturous deaths.

"Autumn, are you sure Odin Sway is in this castle?" Benny asked.

"Positive."

"Fine, let's get in, stake him, and leave as soon as possible."

"Agreed," Frank added.

The Writemans now approached the front doors at a much quicker pace. They crossed the courtyard (noticing the stench of the impaled bodies as they went) and as they reached the bottom of the broad, stone steps that led to the entrance, the large oak doors slowly creaked open. The three Writemans' stopped in their tracks. A tall man with a fair complexion, bushy brown hair and thick moustache walked out and at once Frank recognized him.

"Vlad the Impaler," the Old Man said in a breathless voice.

Vlad smiled and said; "Welcome to my house."

Frank's hand went to the butt of his Uzi while Benny gripped the hilt of his sterling silver samurai sword.

"Please," Vlad said, and as he raised his hands the weapons were pulled away from their owners by some unseen force, each landing at opposite ends of the courtyard. "There is no need for those here, no one will attack you."

The three mortals stood motionless, staring at an ancient, historical figure that appeared to be no more than forty years old.

Vlad seemed uncomfortable with the silence, and began to fumble for something to say. "You recognize me," he finally blurted. "It's the moustache, right? I've had it for ages, but I just can't bring myself to shave it."

This was followed by a few more moments of si-lence.

"Oh, come now," Vlad said cheerfully, "why do you all look so surprised?"

"We-well," Benny stammered as he looked nervously to his father and then to Autumn before returning his attention to Vlad, "we didn't really expect anyone to be up."

"Ah, of course, sunlight. Well, I have evolved beyond the weaknesses of younger vampires. I am what is known as a Vampire Lord, I have abilities that the young ones cannot even begin to comprehend. As such, I am unable to be killed by the usual means. That would make me one of the most powerful beings on Earth.

"Enough about me, though, I believe you are here in regards to one of my servants; Odin Sway."

"I've come to kill him," Benny said plainly.

"You cut right to the chase, don't you? Please, come in, and we will speak on this matter as friends."

Frank began to object, but Benny put a hand on his arm and said; "I'll be alright, Dad."

The old man let out an impatient sigh, "Alright, we'll be right here. You have thirty minutes before we come in with guns blazing."

"That should be ample time," Vlad said politely.

The vampire ushered Benny through the door, leav-ing it open as a show of good faith. The entrance gave way to a huge lobby, the floor and walls made of the darkest black marble he had ever seen. An exquisite looking staircase rose from the middle of the room and up to a landing that was shrouded in shadows.

Benny was led to a large library off to the left of the lobby. Inside blazed an immense fire place that threw light onto a seemingly endless collection of books that lined the walls, and in the middle of the room sat two high backed chairs turned toward each other.

"Please," Vlad started, "let us sit by the fire, you can chase the chilly air from your bones."

Benny sat silently and waited for Vlad to speak again.

"First, I want you to know that your wife was killed without my approval, and although Odin held the blade that killed her, he had absolutely no choice in the matter."

"No choice!" Benny shouted in disbelief, "If he didn't want to kill her he could have told the others no. He could have-"

"MISTER WRITEMAN!" Though Vlad is one man, three voices shrieked from his mouth. "Please wait until I finish."

Benny sank back in his seat, not daring to say another word.

"You see, Mr. Writeman," Vlad continued in the same polite manner as before, "Odin Sway is what we call a 'lesser vampire'. This means he is compelled to do what he is told by those superior to him. We are all separated into clans. I am the head of my clan and I am a vampire lord, as I men-tioned before. The level below lord is master, which was the rank of those you killed in Indiana. By the way, I am not an-gered by their deaths, for I myself would have killed them given the chance. The business relationship we had with your father was very important to us."

"Why would they act without your permission?"

"It happens quite often, I'm afraid. Some vampires get into a position of power and before you know it, they are behaving like gangsters instead of business men. Although Odin is gifted, he is still a few years away from being a master. Lesser vampires cannot control their actions when they are issued an order by those above them. Odin greatly regrets what his masters made him do. Vampires, by nature, are peaceful, emotional creatures. At least they are now days."

"How do you explain the impaled people in your courtyard?" Benny asked with a note of disgust.

"My art is rarely understood by mortals."

"Art? Are you talking about the people dying painful-ly on those spears out there?"

"Dying? On the contrary, Mr. Writeman, they are being reborn into my clan. There are hundreds of thousands of people in this world who want to be a vampire. You and your lovely wife used to be two of them, if I'm not mistaken. 'Goth kids', right? Well, before they become vampires, they have to be servants. I have twenty five mortal servants in this castle right now. When they reach the age of forty, I set them loose in the woods on the other side of the valley and I hunt them down, for I do still enjoy a good hunt. They start the change before they're impaled, and after a month they are let down. The sun doesn't affect them in that time."

"And the two skeletons that are out there?"

"They were vampires from another clan who once tried to assassinate me. They are stabbed through the heart. I keep them there as a warning to others who entertain such foolish ideas."

"You still have to feed on people, doesn't that make you evil?"

"Actually, the servants give blood to us voluntarily; I like to drink mine out of a wine glass. It's so much more civi-lized then gnawing on some poor fellow's throat. That's not to say we don't have the occasional rouge vampire, who reverts to the old ways and runs around killing innocents and sucking them dry, but they are usually captured and punished."

"Usually?"

"Well, there is Deppleo."

"Who is Deppleo?"

"Deppleo is the god of all vampires. When your Christian god said 'let there be light', Deppleo was born in the shadows that light cast. Through the ages he has thrived on slaughtering mortals and drinking them dry and to this day his hate and disdain for humans has not subsided. He is the only being I answer to."

"How does he feel about the way you treat mortals now days?"

"He doesn't care, as long as the vampire population continues to grow, he is satisfied."

"So, he's the only one that kills mortals for blood?"

"Well, he and the Wintermen, but they don't matter right now because it isn't winter and we're getting quite off the subject. Deppleo has left it to me to bring your situation to a close, and as far as I can see, I only have two options.

"Option number one; fight you to the death to save the life of one of my children, which I assure you, would be a very swift fight."

Benny had no trouble believing that.

"Or, option two; turn Odin Sway over to you and let you have your revenge."

"So, what's your choice?" Benny asked, suddenly feeling uneasy

"You will meet Odin and I in the courtyard after sun-set, by then I will have my decision."

Benny stood and walked to the door.

"I sympathize with you Mr. Writeman," Vlad said from his chair without turning to look at the young man, "I too was in love once, long ago, in my mortal days. She also died before her time, although her life was taken by her own hand. The man I'd become, and the acts I had committed drove her to it. I had no thirst for revenge, so I did the next best thing; I lost my mind. I renounced my Christian god and went on a rampage, never quenching my desire to spill the blood of others in the most sickening ways I could imagine. Of course my deeds caught the attention of the vampire god, and his gift only amplified my rage."

Vlad then turned and looked Benny in the eyes, "Mr. Writeman, you must know that Odin is beaten down by the guilt he feels for what he has done to your wife. He is a shat-tered image of the man he once was."

Benny turned from Vlad, feeling a hot tear spill down his face, and said in a quivering voice; "Aren't we all?"

Vlad stared at the young mortals back as he left the library, and in a whisper said, "I suppose we are."

Benny, Autumn, and Frank returned to their camp-site, where Benny retold everything that he heard from Vlad.

"So basically, he's saying Odin Sway was controlled by the five masters we took out in Gary," Frank said when Benny stopped talking.

"Yeah, that's the gist of it," Benny replied.

"Do you believe him?"

"It seems to fit, especially if you consider Odin's behavior when we last saw him."

Frank turned to the dead girl, "What do you think, Autumn?"

"It's the truth," Autumn returned, "I don't think he had any desire to kill me, and I'm sure he took no pleasure in it."

Frank said; "So, with this new information, do we go on or turn back?"

"There is no turning back," Benny stated, "not for me."

"Benny, you'd be killing an innocent man."

A confused expression flowed over Benny's face, "Dad, what do you think we've been doing all this time? Ac-cording to Vlad, none of these vampires have ever taken a life, and you've killed more of them than any of us."

Frank plopped down heavily on an overturned tree trunk. "Your right, the five in Gary should have been the only ones to die."

"Besides," Benny continued, "Odin is the last one, when he's dead Autumn will finally be able to rest in peace. We'll stay here until night fall, then go and find out what Vlad's decision is."

The other two agreed and Frank pulled out the last of the sandwiches they had gotten at a gas station back before they left civilization behind. They ate what very well could be their last meal.

Nightfall came and the three Writemans made their way up to the courtyard to find only Vlad and Odin waiting for them. Benny felt relief at this, but Frank, as if reading his mind, leaned in and spoke in his ear. "Stay alert; there could be more hiding in the shadows."

Autumn took Benny's hand in hers, "Its Halloween night you know?" she said quietly.

Benny thought about it a moment, "Oh yeah, I sup-pose it is. Well, Happy Halloween, we certainly are in a fitting situation for it."

"Yeah, Happy Halloween."

The courtyard was dimly lit by torches that ran along the edge of the circle, one placed between each of the impaled bodies.

Benny stopped at the end of the bridge with Frank and Autumn just behind him. Vlad approached them from the center of the courtyard.

"Benjamin Writeman," he said in the same polite manner as before, "I'm glad you have come, after meeting you today I realized that I have only been thinking of a way to get Odin out of this mess and I never intended to hand him over to you. I was wrong to think this way. You are both suffering, and you are both honorable men, so a third option accrued to me. We will let your swords decide who dies."

Benny suddenly felt his heart drop into his stomach.

"That doesn't really seem fair," Frank interjected.

"Odin will not use any of his vampire abilities," Vlad replied, "only his fencing skills. You, Mr. Writeman, may use any weapons at your disposal."

Benny thought on this a moment, then he pulled the AK-47 off his back and laid it on the ground. Next, he pulled two 9mm pistols from their holster and cast them aside, keep-ing only his sword and a wooden stake that was hidden in his jacket.

"Indeed you are noble," Vlad said, "Just keep in mind, Odin is almost two hundred years old and has practiced his technique since he was a child."

Benny stared at Odin, trying hard to read his expres-sion, but could find nothing there.

Old stone face returns.

"I have been made aware," Benny said.

"Very well, then you will each say your goodbyes to your loved ones."

Benny turned to his father and smiled, "Well, old man, it's been some adventure, huh?"

"You say that as if you were going to lose," Frank said sternly, "you just remember everything I taught you and you'll do fine."

Benny was confused again. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, Benny, when you were a kid didn't you ever wonder why I took all those light saber battles so serious-ly?"

"What are you saying, Dad, that you were secretly training me to sword fight a vampire when I was a kid?"

"Of course not," Frank laughed, "but I did always try to teach you boys how to defend yourselves in just about any situation I could think of. Some ways were just a little more subtle than others."

Benny smiled and hugged his father, Frank returned his embrace. Without another word, Frank walked away to leave Benny and Autumn alone.

He held his wife for a long moment before speaking. "I will not say goodbye to you again," he whispered in her ear.

"I know you'll win," Autumn said in a quiet voice, "and, when the time comes, we'll be together again."

Benny nodded, took a deep breath and returned his gaze to Odin Sway. The vampire stood motionless, his face showing no anger or fear, no excitement or pleasure, only the blankness of a dead man.

Benny pulled his sword from its sheath slowly, letting the moon light gleamed off the solid silver blade. Odin held up his walking cane and pulled it apart revealing the long, straight blade that was concealed inside.

They stood in silence for a moment with the others watching them quietly from beyond the courtyard.

It was Benny that made the first move.

He ran swiftly at the vampire with his blade held low and trailing behind him. When he was close enough, he brought the sword up in a wide arch. Odin stepped to his right, barely avoiding the hit.

Benny spun with the swords momentum bringing it again to Odin's left side. There was a high clang as the swords met for the first time.

Odin then brought his sword in toward his body and lunged forward in a jab. Benny blocked the attack, preventing it from entering his chest, but still felt the blade puncture his left shoulder. A low moan escaped his lips.

Still, the vampire showed no emotion, he only pulled the blade out of Benny's shoulder and repositioned himself for the next attack.

Benny then leapt into the air with his sword raised high above his head, bringing it down hard against Odin's blade. The force of the attack knocked the vampire off his feet. Landing on his back, he brought his sword up just in time to block another swing from Benny. After a quick roll he was back on his feet blocking another hard hit.

Back swinging his blade, Benny was amazed at his opponent's agility, as he dodged the attack completely. Odin gave another thrust and again Benny blocked it, but again felt the vampire's sword enter his left shoulder. He felt warm blood flow from the large wound.

Wiping his hand on his pants, Benny looked back at Odin. The vampire's white suit was covered in dirt and grass stains, his normally neat hair was loose and hanging over his face.

Still, there was no emotion there.

Again, Benny ran toward Odin with his sword held low, this time he swung the blade up diagonally, but again, Odin stepped out of the way.

The vampire thrust his sword at Benny's chest once more and again Benny blocked it, but as the creature's blade came toward his right shoulder, Benny spun, using his right hand to slip the wooden stake out of his jacket and drive the tip into Odin's heart.

With a gasp, Odin fell forward into Benny's arms, and Benny gently laid the vampire down on his back.

As he knelt over Odin, Benny could see tears flowing from the vampire's eyes and a great sorrow in his once emo-tionless face.

"I'm so sorry, Ben," Odin sobbed. His left hand was laying limp at his side with his sword still slightly gripped. His right hand was gripping Benny's shoulder. "I didn't want to hurt her."

"I know, Odin," Benny said, and now he began to cry, partly because he knew now that Odin was innocent in all of this, but mostly because he knew that when Odin fell, a few yards behind him, his wife fell as well.

"Can...can you forgive me before I die?" the vampire pleaded.

"Only if you do me one favor first," Benny replied.

"Anything."

Benny swallowed hard and forced himself to say the words. "Kill me."

"What!" Odin exclaimed.

"I have avenged my wife, Odin, when you die, so will she, for good this time. And when I die, who knows how many years from now, we'll be together again. I don't want to wait," Benny began to weep harder, "I don't w-want to w-wait. Kill me...and all will be forgiven."

Without another word, Odin positioned his sword over Benny's chest and pushed the blade into his heart.

Frank stood silently next to Autumn as they watched Benny pull the stake from his jacket and plunge it into Odin's chest. As Benny slowly lowered the vampire to the ground, Autumn collapsed at Frank's feet.

"Autumn!" he exclaimed with concern as he knelt down beside her. "So, this is it, huh?"

"Yes," Autumn replied weakly, "when Odin Sway dies, so will I. Benny has avenged me, isn't that romantic?"

Frank stroked her hair, "Yeah, it sure is, pumpkin. At least I get to tell you goodbye this time."

Autumn smiled, "Goodbye, Frank."

"Goodbye, Autumn," at that moment, Frank heard Benny's voice rise slightly, the only words he could make out were; "kill me", but that's really all he needed to hear. He gently lay Autumn down and began to walk toward his son.

Suddenly, Benny lurched and rolled over, Frank could see Odin's blade protruding from his son's chest.

"Benny!" Frank shouted, now running to the limp figure lying on the ground. He stopped and knelt down beside his son, at first only staring at him in disbelief. Why had he asked Odin to kill him?

"Why, Benny?" he whispered through his tears, knowing he would get no answer. Benny Writeman was dead.

"Mr. Writeman," Vlad said from over his shoulder, "would you please come with me?"

Frank didn't move.

"Please," Vlad pleaded, "we haven't much time."

Frank stood and stared at the ancient creature that now spoke to him.

"We must leave the dead alone for the moment, if you would come with me you will see why."

The Old Man finally gave in (out of curiosity) and followed the vampire to the castle doors.

Inside the castle, Vlad led Frank to a staircase that stood a short distance to the immediate right of the entrance. They climbed only five steps, when Vlad turned quickly around, black robes flapping with the vampires momentum, and directed Frank to sit on a step near a tall window that looked out onto the courtyard. Vlad sat down quietly on the step above him and placed his hand on Frank's shoulder.

"Watch closely," the vampire said, pointing out the window.

Through the window, Frank could see the bodies of his son and Odin Sway lying in the middle of the courtyard. About ten yards from them lay the body of his daughter-in-law.

After a few moments he noticed some movement and realized that Benny was slowly standing up. Frank's face lit up with a smile, but it faded quickly when he noticed how strange his son looked. It wasn't Benny standing up; it was a shimmering blue, translucent image of him. A second later he saw a similar image standing up from Autumn's body.

"It is their spirit's that you see," Vlad said quietly, as if speaking to loud might scare them away.

The two ghostly figures only stared at each other for a moment, and then Benny ran to his wife and took her in his arms. Frank stared in awe. The embrace seemed to last an eternity, and the old man didn't want to see it end. The spirits finally came apart and as Benny ran his hand through Au-tumn's hair, Frank could see, even from this distance, how deeply they cared for one another.

"Their love must have been great," Vlad said.

"Yeah," the old man replied, "yeah it was."

The two spirits ran across the bridge, hand in hand, and disappeared into the woods.

Frank began to sob uncontrollably. Vlad's hand re-mained on the Old Man's shoulder for a moment longer, then he stood and walked back down the stairs, leaving Frank to his sorrow.

After a long while, Frank came into the library where Vlad sat in silent thought, staring into the fire place.

"I'm sorry about that," Frank started, "I don't usually break down that way."

"It's alright; we have both lost children this week. For men like us tears are our only therapy."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that as well, I had no idea they weren't in control of themselves."

"It's alright, you were only defending yourselves, and it is all in the past as far as I'm concerned. Let us start anew."

"I'd like that."

"Please, take a seat; I am having a dinner prepared for you now."

As Frank sat down a loud howling arose on the wind outside.

"Werewolves?" the Old Man inquired.

Vlad grinned, "Yes, they cry for Odin Sway," Seeing the puzzled look on Frank's face, Vlad elaborated, "Odin was the only vampire alive that could communicate with them telepathically. Over the course of his life he built a very strong bond with them."

"That certainly explains a lot about what happened in the graveyard and the cornfield."

Vlad smiled broadly, "Yes, I've heard that story, a most impressive victory for the Writeman clan. Mr. Writeman, I consider you a friend now."

"Then please, call me Frank."

"Very well, Frank, as a result of our friendship you will no longer have to worry about attacks from the vampires of my clan. The other clans will not get involved in our busi-ness either. However, the werewolves now see you as an ene-my. I don't think they will attack you out of respect for me, but you should tread lightly. One more act against them could result in the entire werewolf community coming down on you."

"Understood," Frank said.

"If you have questions about anything, please don't hesitate to ask."

Frank thought on this a moment and then said; "The weeping willow tree in the woods. I am curious as to how you managed to create such a creature."

"Witchcraft, of course," Vlad said plainly.

"You know witches?"

"One or two."

As Frank processed this new information, the door to the library opened then and a human servant entered declaring that dinner was served.

Over the next week, Frank stayed at the castle as Vlad's guest and learned everything he could about vampires, werewolves and the vampire god, Deppleo.

At night, Frank walked the halls of the castle, meet-ing many vampires who called the impressive structure their home. Much to the old man's surprise none of them seemed to hold a grudge against him and was actually quite polite. During the day those same halls were completely deserted, with the exception of a few servants and Vlad of course.

"Do you ever sleep?" Frank asked Vlad one morning.

"I have lived for centuries, my friend," Vlad replied, "the blood of millions weighs too heavy on my shoulders for sleep."

"How long has it been since vampires began to live in a civilized society?"

"Not long," Vlad paused to stroke his moustache in thought. "Close to one hundred and fifty years now. All of the lords got together and decided that our way of living needed to be restructured. In order to keep a low profile, we realized we had to stop leaving blood drained bodies lying around."

"So, before that you were..."

"I was insane with blood lust," Vlad finished. "People change, though, even vampires."

After the week was up, Frank decided it was time to say his goodbyes, Vlad walked with him to the courtyard.

"I'd like to thank you for letting Benny and Autumn rest here," Frank said, "this is a beautiful area."

"With the exception of the impaled bodies, right?" Vlad laughed.

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I never unders-tood Jackson Pollok's artwork either."

"Well, you're not alone there. It is an honor to have Benny and Autumn here. Before you go I want you to take this." Vlad reached into his black robes and pulled Odin's cane out. "Part of your child remains with me, I would like a part of mine to go with you."

Frank stared down at the silver dragon that formed the handle, the morning sun gleamed in its eye. "Thank you," he said, taking the cane in his hand, "I'll take good care of it."

"I know you will."

"And thank you for all of your hospitality."

"Of course. Tell me, Frank, where will you go from here."

Frank thought on this a moment and said; "I'm going to find my other son, Jack."

"Ah, yes, he has been turned. I will give you this warning; beware of the Wintermen."

"The Wintermen?"

"They only surface in the winter months, when their powers are strongest. They prey on other vampires, especially those who aren't tied to a clan, like your son. In a little more than three weeks time he will be completely turned, it would be wise to find him before winter. My information points back toward Indiana."

"I'll keep all that in mind."

"What will you do once you find him?"

"I'm going to cure him."

Vlad laughed, "There is no cure for vampirism."

"There is one," Frank said seriously, "I'm going to kill your vampire god, Deppleo."

Surprise is an emotion Vlad had not felt in a very long time, this statement set him overflowing with it. "Killing him may be impossible, finding him may be just as hard."

"I have to try. I suppose that makes us enemies."

"On the contrary, I would welcome a mortal death, you have my full support. Just remember, though you will always be a friend to me, if Deppleo commands it, we may face each other eventually."

"Hopefully, it won't come to that. Goodbye, Vlad, and thanks again."

Vlad watched as Frank walked back toward the woods and into his next adventure.

He then said with a whisper; "Good luck."

12. Home

Frank had little trouble finding his way back down the mountain side, although he did find himself walking in circles once. He'd always been a nature lover and found the fresh air to be a great healing tool for his grief.

He found the hearse on the old dirt road where they had left it, with no apparent signs of being tampered with be-sides a couple of hundred leaves blanketing the roof and hood. Frank climbed behind the steering wheel and keyed the ignition. The old 8 cylinder engine roared to life and he threw the gear stick into drive.

Before he pulled away, he gave one last look up the tree covered side of the mountain, hoping he'd catch one last glimpse of Benny and Autumn.

He found no one.

To say the trip back to Indiana was uneventful would be an understatement; it was downright boring, a sharp contrast to the trip up. There wasn't a vampire, werewolf, witch or living tree to be seen the entire time.

Though he had not stayed at the house much since Abby had died, he certainly felt overjoyed to see it as he pulled into the driveway. As he brought the old death cab to a stop and shifted into park he caught movement in his rearview mirror. An unmarked police car had followed him up the drive.

He got out of the car and looked back to see a pretty, middle aged Hispanic woman climbing out of the vehicle be-hind him.

"Good morning, Mr. Writeman," The woman said cheerfully, "and welcome home. My name is Detective Gloria Perez and I have a few questions I'd like to ask you."

Frank gave her a crooked smile and said, "Your par-ents named you detective? Good thing you became a cop, huh?"

Gloria let out a short giggle and knew she had given up the bad cop façade she was trying to wear. "That was a good one, you're very funny. May I come in?"

"Of course," Frank led the way up to the front door and produced a key chain from his pants pocket. Once inside, he turned to his guest and asked; "May I take your coat?"

"No, I won't be staying long."

"That's a shame."

The detective felt her cheeks flush and mentally scolded herself for acting like a school girl. She cleared her throat and tried to emit a tougher exterior. "Mr. Writeman, I worked a very interesting crime scene recently at your bank building. Do you know what I'm referring to?"

"I have an idea."

"My partner and I found some very strange things in your office. Then, we found even more of these strange things in your son, Jack's house, at the graveyard where your daugh-ter-in-law, Autumn, was buried, and we heard about the piles of bodies that were left strewn across a cornfield in Nebraska."

"Nothing out of Gary?" Frank asked playfully.

"Why? What happened in Gary?"

"Nothing worth mentioning."

Gloria stared at Frank for a long moment as if trying to word her next set of statements very carefully.

"Mr. Wr-"

"Please, call me Frank"

"Frank, before I could get very deep into my investi-gation, the F.B.I. swooped in and took over. Now, the feds are gone, the bodies are gone and everything's been cleaned up as if it never happened."

"Wow, that's convenient for me."

"Very. Furthermore, my partner, my forensics team, and every other cop who viewed the scene are acting like they were never there and didn't see anything."

"Maybe they're the smart ones," Frank said with sudden seriousness.

"I want in on this; I want to know what's going on."

Frank only stared at her with a doubtful look on his face.

"Where are your boys, Frank?"

The Old Man looked down at the floor, suddenly saddened by where the conversation had turned.

"Benny is dead," he stated plainly.

"I'm sorry, Frank. What about Jack?"

"I have no idea where he is, but he's in trouble and I need to find him before others do."

"What others?"

Frank didn't answer.

"Look, I'm a detective; I could be helpful in finding him."

The Old Man new she was right, and though he wasn't comfortable with putting yet another life in danger, finding Jack was more important than anything.

"I'm very tired from my trip," he finally said.

Gloria let out a sigh of defeat.

"I want to get some rest," Frank continued, "but if you have dinner with me tonight, I'll tell you everything you want to know."

Gloria smiled, "Are you asking me to go out on a date?"

"Well," Frank said with a sudden nervousness, "yeah, if that's okay."

Again, the detective felt her cheeks blush, "I suppose that would be alright. I can meet you back here at around 6:00, would that be ok?"

Frank grinned like a boy in a candy shop, "6:00 is good."

He walked the detective to the door and as she walked out onto the porch, she turned and asked: "Where not going to take the hearse, are we?"

"It would probably be better if you drive."

"Okay, I'll see you later."

He watched her leave and felt relieved that she didn't look in the back of the hearse. The illegal weapons he'd hauled across the country and back would have landed him in prison for a nice, long stint.

Frank didn't lie to her, he was exhausted and he fully intended on getting some rest, but there was something else he had to take care of first.

The stairs gave their old familiar creaks as he walked up to the second floor, a sound he found comforting after being away so long. As he entered the den he thought of the last time he was there and echoes of his conversation with Benny bounced through his head. He was trying to help his son through the grief of losing his wife.

Now Benny was gone too.

The Old Man pushed this thought to the back of his mind. He had spent enough time mourning his youngest boy, he still had a son out there somewhere that needed his help and he knew if he focused on that his sorrow would soon be forgotten, if only for a little while.

Frank picked the cordless phone out of its charger and dialed a number that very few people in the world knew. The phone rang three times before a nasally voice answered on the other end.

"Yellow?"

"James, it's Frank."

"Oh, hey buddy, are you back in town?"

"Yeah, and I'm going to need your help with some-thing. How do you feel about relocating?"

"Where to?"

"My place, tonight. I want to make this a base of operations of sorts."

"Base of operations? Are we going to war?"

"Eventually, but first we have to find Jack. I can't really say much over the phone, just come over tonight around 7:00 and get set up, I'll explain everything later."

"What are you going to do?"

"First I'm going to take a nap, and then I'm going on a hot date."

"You got a date? You've been in town for like three minutes. I haven't had one for three years."

Frank smiled, "The first step is to leave the house, James. Look, I'm going to go, but I'll see you tonight."

"Alright, see ya."

The Old Man hung up the phone and collapsed on the nearby couch. He eventually fell into an uneasy sleep filled with dreams of things to come.

The approaching snow, his changing son and the mysterious vampires known only as; The Wintermen.

The End.

