Victor Gischler - Vampire A Go-Go

The water swept through the caverns, wrecking Roderick’s machine, smashing lenses, washing away bodies.

The rush of water was so powerful that it even sent the lead box with the philosopher’s stone rolling and tumbling along deep underground caverns, through a shaft that emptied itself into the Vlatva. The box sank into the mud at the bottom of the river.

What happened to it after that, I can’t say. I’ve come to the end of my part in the story.

I didn’t know that at first, but I know it now. I can feel it. I’m going someplace. Events have come to fruition, and I’ve been released. I know now that I’ve waited centuries to finish this, to witness, to tell you about it. I don’t know what happens next.

I see the big, deep gray loom before me, and I’m afraid. I don’t want to go. For hundreds of years I’ve prayed for release, but now I don’t want to go.

I can help you .

Who is this?

You know who this is .

You’re me, aren’t you?

I’m you an hour from now. You know how funny time works here .

What are you doing here?

It was difficult, so I’ve come back to help you .

How can you help?

You need to start thinking. You need to face up to some things. It’ll go quicker if you start now. I resisted, and it took longer. It was… uncomfortable .

What do you mean?

Think about what you’re doing here. Why are you a ghost? What happened?

Nothing happened. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Yes, you do .

Go away. I don’t need your help.

Remember Roderick. Remember how he died, the agony. From exposing himself to the stone .

Is it because of the emperor’s cousin? Am I being punished for that? He died just like the vampire. Because I smudged the lens. Is that it? It was worth it. Rudolph sealed up the caverns after that. He didn’t think the machine worked. It was a good thing. I’m sorry about the emperor’s cousin, but it was good he thought the machine a failure.

You know that’s not what I’m talking about .

I don’t want to speak to you anymore.

Remember Roderick’s agony. How he withered away. You were exposed to the stone too .

Shut up.

You didn’t want to die like that, did you? So much pain .

Shut up!

So what did you do?

I didn’t do anything. Go away.

WHAT DID YOU DO?

I t-took a rope. A noose. I put it around my neck. Oh, God.

It’s okay .

Oh, God. I remember. Oh, my God.

Let it out .

I wept. I don’t know how long. It’s hard to tell when you’re disembodied, when you can’t feel warm tears roll down your cheek. I wept and wept.

There. Feel better?

I don’t know. I feel tired.

I’m going on ahead. I’ll see you there soon. You’ll make it okay now .

Okay.

And I feel myself being pulled along. Not like when Zabel summoned me to his rooftop. More like floating along with a gentle current. I’m floating into the gray. There’s no tunnel of light. No choir of angels. Just the long gray. And I’m going there.

Toward an ending. And a beginning.

Into all things.

After fleeing St. Vitus Cathedral and Prague Castle, they returned to Penny’s apartment, where Allen and Amy laid Penny on her bed. She woke several hours later, pleasantly surprised to be in her own room. Allen and Amy filled her in on what she’d missed.

Penny cried for Father Paul.

They all slept, aches and bruises and fatigue forcing them into the deepest slumber of their lives.

The next day, Allen and Penny walked Amy to the nearest tram stop. Amy wore a pink T-shirt, white shorts, and sandals, her toenails painted the same pink as the T-shirt. She wore a small backpack over one shoulder. She looked like she was on her way to a sorority beach party.

“I knew I never had any powers,” Amy said wistfully. “But to be a member of the Society, to have a place. I’m not very independent, I guess. I needed to belong.”

“What are you going to do now?” Allen asked.

She shrugged. “Maybe in the fall I’ll go back to school. Finish my dissertation in astrophysics.”

Astrophysics?

“Until then I suppose I’ll bum around,” Amy said. “I’ll take the tram to the train station. Catch the express to Vienna. It’ll be nice to be an ordinary tourist.”

Penny offered her hand, and they shook. “I know we didn’t hit it off at first, but I hope we see you again.”

Amy smiled. “I’d like that.”

The tram pulled up to the stop, and Amy climbed aboard.

She suddenly jumped off, grabbed Allen’s face, and planted a hard kiss right on his lips. Allen stood speechless.

Amy flashed a devilish grin at Penny. “I know he’s all yours. But he sure is cute, isn’t he?”

She hopped back aboard the tram as it pulled out, and they watched Amy wave from the back window. The tram rounded a corner and trundled out of sight.

Penny and Allen strolled the sidewalk.

“It just occurred to me,” Allen said. “I don’t have to research a chapter on Kafka for Professor Evergreen anymore. Looks like I have a whole summer and nothing to do.”

Penny’s hand found his, and their fingers laced. “Well, I just don’t know what you’re going to do. I hear Prague’s kind of a dull town.”

Allen’s face grew somber. “I think there’s something I need to tell you, Penny. Something about me and Cassandra.”

“Never mind,” she said. “Amy told me all about it.”

“You don’t care?”

“I can’t say I’m thrilled ,” she admitted, “but it wasn’t your fault.” She stopped him, stood in front of him, head tilted up. “Besides, you’re mine. I earned you. So try to be worth it, okay?”

“Looks like I know what I’m doing this summer.”

He kissed her long and hard.

It was good.

Much better than a Brontë novel.

Much of this novel was inspired by actual events. Holy Roman Emperor Rudolph II really did keep alchemists prisoner in Prague Castle to work on the secret of the philosopher’s stone. Edward Kelley and John Dee were real people. Read up on this stuff. It’s interesting.

But please be aware that the author has recklessly deviated from actual history for his own purposes. Liberties were taken. Dates screwed with. Serious historians should avail themselves of a grain of salt.

Thanks to all the folks at Team Touchstone, most notably Zach Schisgal, Shawna Lietzke, and Jessica Roth. Much gratitude to David Hale Smith (and Shauyi!) for V8 agenting with hybrid efficiency. As always, thanks to Sean Doolittle and Anthony Neil Smith for support, advice, very bad (but fun) golf outings, and smacks upside the head when needed. A special special special thanks to all those readers who “get it.” Much obliged to my son, Emery, for all the “Jedi Training,” (i.e. whacking each other in the backyard with the lightsabers Santa brought us for Christmas.) And best for last, thanks to my wife, Jackie, who spent a month with me in Prague and put up with my “writer bullshit.”

Victor Gischler lives in the wilds of Skiatook, Oklahoma -a long, long way from a Starbucks. His wife, Jackie, thinks he is a silly individual. He drinks black, black coffee all day long and sleeps about seven minutes a night. Victor’s first novel, Gun Monkeys, was nominated for the Edgar Award.