Curse You, Page 3

  Perhaps he was looking for the wrong thing. Perhaps not all of these demons were children. What other features does it have? The fangs, the boiling blood, its refusal to die.

  There were a few creatures that had fangs, but they weren't it. At last, towards the end, he read, “Vampire.” The description matched. Not perfectly, but this was the best he had so far.

  The book said, “vampires drink blood.” This demon child ate flesh as well, but that was close. “They fear sunlight.” There were only a couple of times Robert had seen the damn thing, but it had seemed more comfortable in the dark. “Vampires can be killed with silver.” They had failed to kill it with silver, though it had been hurt. “Silver causes vampires blood to boil.” It did, unlike the regular knife Fredrick had used right after the demon was born. “They fear the holy cross.” It did if it was a silver cross.

  There was nothing else in this book that would help Robert kill the monster, so he moved on. He went from book to book, searching for anything about vampires. Some reports said vampires could be killed by burning, others that their heads had to be cut off, others that silver should be used, and yet others that it was a stake through the heart or boiling oil poured into the grave. Some sources had a few of these methods listed, others only one. With a sigh, Robert stopped his reading and went over the facts.

  The child could be harmed with silver but not killed. So this wasn't the answer. Fire didn't work; burning oil probably wouldn't work either, but it was worth a try. His head was already cut off, yet the boy still lived.

  The only other option was a stake, but even this was confusing. Different reports indicated different types of tree to make the stake from. Aspen, maple, blackthorn, and hawthorn were all mentioned, but which one would work on this child? And why were all the reports so different? Were there different types of vampires? Robert would have to try all four trees until he found the right one. If the stakes didn't work, he would try oil. What if oil doesn't work? What then? He didn't think he would be able to find anything else in this library. Perhaps another one would have more, but how far was the nearest library that compared with this one?

  Chapter 10

  The ride home was peaceful. Robert's mind was occupied with memories brought on by the sight of the city and the information he had found. He made his first stop when his stomach rumbled, a plea for nourishment.

  Leaving the road for a maple copse, Robert looked for a comfortable place to eat. A fallen tree offered a seat, and the abundance of grass provided food for the horse. A large, red maple tree cast shadows over Robert as he crouched to light a fire. Sparks flew from the flint as soon as Robert struck it against his knife. Dry grass gave out smoke as a few tiny red dots appeared on it. Robert blew on the grass, gentle so as not to kill the beginnings of the fire before it got a chance to grow. Red dots turned into embers, and Robert dared to put it down, partially covering it with twigs. He blew again, stronger this time, and watched smoke form a column above the tiny pile. A few more seconds and the flames leaped from the grass, trying to reach the twigs above. Without a warning, the fire grew, and the doctor scrambled to feed it.

  The small branches began to burn. Robert slowed, taking time to break a bough and lay a couple pieces of it on the fire while leaving the rest for later.

  Confident that his fire wouldn't die down too quickly, Robert walked a few feet from it's heat, looking for bifurcated branches to set up a kettle. He found what he was looking for on a bone-dry tree.

  It took a few minutes for him to set up his pot. He added to the water a bit of salted meat, a carrot broken into two pieces, and a handful of sorrel he'd found growing nearby.

  While the food was cooking, Robert walked to the giant red maple that cast a much-needed shadow over the fire. He noticed a perfectly sized branch growing low enough to reach. Rising to his tiptoes, he pulled and severed it, then slumped back to the fire.

  As the water boiled Robert shaped a stake, sharpening one end. When the weapon was sharpened, Robert rose to his feet, ready to put in into his worn leather saddlebag, but he stopped before he reached it. If only one stake would work, how could he know which one it was? He would probably be able to tell them apart by the bark, and he didn't think he would ever have to kill another vampire, but why take chances? For the sake of knowledge and his own curiosity, Robert reached for the knife and carved a clumsy “M” on the blunt end.

  ***

  It took two more stops before Robert found the next tree he needed: aspen. Morning of the second day gave Robert the third stake: hawthorn. This one was easy enough to find in the right areas. It was perhaps the least-needed of the four stakes, since Robert knew exactly where to find it in Greenville.

  In his line of work, Robert needed to know where hawthorn grew. Robert had four patients that needed to eat the small berries daily. If there hadn't been one growing nearby, he would've planted one by his house.

  Blackthorn was another matter altogether. Robert never even tried looking for it around Greenville since he didn't know any medicinal properties of this plant and harvesting it for food was troublesome due to its peculiar changes in taste depending on the season. It wasn't easy to find blackthorn in the woods. No matter what part of the forest the doctor searched, this tree was nowhere to be found. He started stopping for longer breaks, walking in the forests, then abandoned the road completely and took to the woods, riding toward the town.

  On the third day Robert finally found what he was looking for. The young blackthorn was small, branches on the right side dead and dry enough to snap from the lightest touch. It was unlikely to survive the winter. The fallen tree at the foot of the sapling was a parent blackthorn, turned into a sponge by ants and beetles who thought it an inviting home. There wasn't a branch on the dead tree that Robert could use, so he sped up the sapling's demise.

  It was cruel perhaps to destroy a tree that was so hard to find in these parts, but there was no way for Robert to save it. The young blackthorn was too thin to use its branch to make stakes – toothpicks perhaps, but not a weapon to kill a demon. It was the trunk of the tree Robert had to use.

  Most of the branches broke off easily as few of them were alive to offer resistance. Thorns, dead as they were did try to protect the tree from destruction. Although he was careful, Robert pricked his fingers many times while trying to prepare the stake.

  As he sucked a drop of blood off his finger, he thought about the branches that were still alive. They might take root and survive. Greenville was two or three hours' ride. Perhaps he could make amends with his victim.

  Robert picked one of the healthy branches and wrapped its base with a wet handkerchief, then put it in his saddle bag, making sure the leaves were sticking out to take in the sun.

  Chapter 11

  The darkness was beginning to envelope Robert as he rode into Greenville. Feeling uneasy, he got off his horse and looked around. Everything was quiet. He walked quickly to Fredrick Kairan's house and knocked.

  Fredrick didn't answer. The doctor stood, looking at the door as if he could look through it if he only tried hard enough. Fear crawled into Robert's mind as he knocked again. There seemed to be too much unknown hiding in the darkness. How can a man fight that which he knows nothing of? This child was just another proof of it; they didn't know what the infant was, so they couldn't find a way to kill him. Robert thought he knew, but what if he was wrong? What if the babe wasn't a vampire but some other demon?

  Every time Robert thought about the source of such evil, of all the possible reasons it had happened to Fredrick's child, his mind wandered to poor Elizabeth and her last words. She had cursed Fredrick with her words, and he had sealed it with his hands.

  The girl had looked like she'd taken a horrific beating. It must have been Fredrick's fists that had done the bloody work. The man looked furious when he walked into the night to arrest Elizabeth; in such a state of mind, a man could do just about anything. Was that what Elizabeth meant? Was it this beating that turned th
e child into a monster? But why didn't it happen to all the children of men who did such things to women?

  She had cursed him with her tongue.

  Robert didn't know the whole truth, but he tried to put all the pieces together. That seemed to be the only way to keep his sanity. He had to go over everything, organize it, and go over it again and again until he could make sense of what had happened. He had to understand it.

  Knowledge was the true power. Knowledge was the greatest weapon. Knowledge could even conquer death at times. When a man knew the cause of a problem and a way to solve it, there was no reason to fear. It was only the darkness, of the night and of the mind, that allowed fear to flourish.

  Robert thought of Fredrick Kairan and how scared he must be, not knowing what to do with his own son, not knowing how to kill the demon child. Robert was going to bring him a weapon that might work, the weapon Robert had made because he had the knowledge. Robert didn't think he should share with Fredrick what he had learned in the library. Fredrick didn't always welcome reason and facts; on the contrary, he seemed to fear them. Robert might have to keep the knowledge to himself.

  The doctor raised his hand to knock again, but the door crept opened as if of its own accord. A second later Fredrick's aged face appeared to invite Robert in.

  Robert began to explain about the stakes, that they might work, but Fredrick waved it off with the words, “What can a stick do where a cross failed?”

  “It has to do with the last days of Jesus' life,” Robert said, hoping that the lie would work where truth had failed. He was certain the Lord would forgive him. After all, the lie was uttered for a greater good. “The trees that played a part in Jesus' death became holy and can be used as weapons against some demons.”

  “I don't know what you mean.” Fredrick furrowed his brows, making the wrinkles deepen. “What trees are they?”

  “Aspen, hawthorn, maple, and blackthorn.”

  Fredrick lowered his eyes to the floor and stood motionless for a few seconds. Robert was starting to grow concerned about the man's well-being when Fredrick finally lifted his head and said, “Of course, I remember now. Let's do it tonight. God would approve of us using his gifts to fight demons.”

  Robert tied his horse to an apple tree and walked with Fredrick to the church. It didn't take them long to get into the dungeon and open the crate. In the dim light from the torches hanging on the wall, they saw pieces of human flesh moving.

  Robert's blood grew cold as he saw what was left of the infant. It was one thing to know that it happened, but another entirely to see tiny hands grabbing at the air. Robert took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He had seen mutilations before, but this was far worse. He was afraid he'd get sick. “Remember,” he said, “you must put the stake through the heart.”

  Fredrick did as he was instructed. The stake went right into the hole that had been created with a silver cross. The child's head, feet, and hands moved as they had been moving ever since they were severed from the body.

  Which stake was it? Hawthorn? Not all was lost, not yet, this was only the first one. There were three more. One of them must work. It must.

  The second stake, with the letter M on it, had as little effect as the first.

  Robert extended his hand with another, blackthorn. This must work, if only for the sacrifice Doctor Finch had made of it, if only for the difficulty he had of finding it.

  But it did not.

  The doctor's spirit sank. It was all a waste. It didn't work. He handed over the last stake, knowing it wasn't going to do any better than the first three, thinking about the next library that he would have to go to, where he would have to search for another answer.

  Fredrick pushed the stake in. The child's eyes bulged, its hand clutched and then relaxed, never to move again.

  Robert looked up, saw a mixture of relief and emptiness carved out of Fredrick's face. It was all over. He did it. He found the answer to this nightmarish problem: aspen.

  It was all over.

  But was it? There was something else, clawing at his mind. There was going to be more. There was going to be death. At least one more death. People wouldn't forget this. People would want to know where this demon came from. And those words Elizabeth said before she had died... people wouldn't forget them either. Robert knew this, and for the first time, knowledge brought him fear. Not for himself, unless... unless they would blame the healer as they always did.

  Thank You

  Thank you for reading Curse You, the first story in The Curse Your Body series.

  If you enjoyed it, I got more where it came from.

  Simply hop on Under Candlelight site and enjoy all the goodies. And if what you find there isn’t enough, subscribe to my mailing list and become one of the cursed. My subscribers get exclusive stories and can become characters in future tales, so embrace the Curse.

  If you enjoyed this story so much that you want to make sure the world sees it, the best way to get there is by reviewing it. Whether you write a review on Kindle, Kobo, Goodreads, or the moon, it'll be greatly appreciated.