Morgan Rice - Destined

The hundreds of vampires in the room came to witness the Council’s judgments, and to await their audience. They always lined up neatly along the sides, stood at attention, in a huge circle, on the outskirts, leaving the center of the room entirely open. Save for one person. That was always the person who needed to stand before them in judgment.

Right now, it was some poor soul, standing by himself, trembling in fear as he stood across from them, staring at their inscrutable hoods, waiting for their judgment. Kyle had been in that spot before. It was not pleasant. If they did not like the matter with which you approached them, they might, on a whim, kill you on the spot. You never went before them lightly – it was always a matter of life and death.

“Wait here,” Lore whispered to Kyle, as he headed off into the crowd. Kyle stood on the periphery, watching.

As Kyle watched, a judge nodded, ever so slightly, and two vampire soldiers appeared from either side. Each grabbed one arm of the person facing the Council.

“No! NO!” he screamed.

But it didn’t do him any good. They dragged him away, as he screamed and struggled, knowing that he was being carried off to death, and knowing that nothing he said or did would do any good. He must have asked them for something they had not approved of, Kyle realized, as the vampire’s screams echoed throughout the chamber. Finally, a door opened, he was led outside, and the door slammed behind him. The room fell silent again.

Kyle could feel the tension in the air, as the other vampires looked at each other, dreading the moment of audience.

Kyle saw Lore approach an attendant, close to the Council, and whisper in his ear. The attendant, in turn, walked up to a judge, knelt down, and whispered in his ear.

The judge turned his head ever so slightly, and the man pointed, right to Kyle. Even from this great distance, Kyle could feel the judge’s eyes bore into him, hidden in his hood. Despite himself, Kyle felt a shiver. Finally, he was in the presence of true evil.

The attendant nodded, and that was Kyle’s cue.

Kyle pushed his way through the crowd, and walked right out to the center of the empty floor. He stood in the small circle in the center of the room – the spot. He knew that if he looked up, directly above his head would be the hole in the ceiling, the oculus, open to the sky. In the daytime, it allowed in a shaft of sunlight; now, at sunset, the light was filtered, and very weak. The room was lit mostly by torches.

Kyle knelt and bowed, waiting for them to address him, as was proper vampire etiquette.

“Kyle of the Blacktide Coven,” a judge announced slowly. “You are bold to approach us unannounced. If your request does not meet our approval, you know that you risk the death penalty.”

It was not a question; it was a statement. Kyle knew the consequences. But he didn’t fear the outcome.

“I am aware, my master,” Kyle said simply, and waited.

Finally, after a slight rustling, there came another pronouncement: “Then speak. What do you request of us?”

“I’ve come from another time. Two hundred years in the future.”

A loud murmur rose throughout the room. An attendant banged on the floor with his staff three times, and screamed, “Silence!”

Finally, the room quieted down.

Kyle continued. “I do not time travel lightly, as none of us do. There was an urgency. In the future, in the time that I live, there will be a war – a glorious vampire war. It will begin in New York and spread from there. It is the vampire Apocalypse we have dreamed of. Our kind will finally be victorious. We will wipe out the entire human race and enslave them. We will also wipe out the benevolent vampire covens, anyone who stands in our way.

“I know, because I am the leader of this war.”

There arose another loud murmur, followed by the banging of the staff.

“But my war is not complete,” Kyle yelled over the din. “There remains but one thorn in my side, one person who can ruin everything we’ve achieved, who can ruin this glorious future for our race. She comes from a special lineage, and she has come back in time, likely to escape me. I’ve come back to find her, and to kill her once and for all. Until I do, the future remains uncertain for us all.

“I come before you today to ask permission to kill her, here in your place, and time. I also would like your assistance in finding her.”

Kyle lowered his head again and waited. His heart beat faster, as he awaited their judgment. Of course, it would be in their best interest to help him, and he could see no reason why they wouldn’t. But then again, these creatures, alive for millions of years, older even than he, were completely unpredictable. He never knew what agenda the twelve of them had, and their rulings always seemed as arbitrary as the wind.

He waited amidst the thick silence.

Finally, there was the clearing of a throat.

“We know of whom you speak, of course,” came the gravelly voice of a judge. “You speak of Caitlin. Of what will be the Pollepel Coven. But who is, really, of a different, and far more powerful coven. Yes, she arrived in our time yesterday. Of course we know this. And if we wanted to kill her ourselves, don’t you think that we would have?”

Kyle knew better than to respond. They needed their little point of pride. He would just let them finish their speech.

“But we do admire your determination, and your future war,” the judge continued. “Yes, we admire it very much.”

There was another moment of thick silence.

“We will let you track her down,” continued the judge, “but if you find her, you will not kill her. You will capture her alive, and bring her back to us. We would rather enjoy killing her ourselves, and watching her die slowly. She will be a perfect candidate for the Games.”

Kyle felt himself seething with rage. The Games. Of course . That was all that these sick, old vampires ever cared about. He remembered now. They converted the Coliseum into an arena for their sport, pitted vampire against vampire, vampire against human, vampire against beasts, and loved to watch them all tear themselves to pieces. It was cruel, and in his own way, Kyle admired it.

But it was not what he wanted for Caitlin. He wanted her dead. Period. Not that he minded her being tortured. But he didn’t want to waste any time, to leave any room for chance. Of course, no one had ever escaped or survived the Games. But at the same time, one never knew what could happen.

“But, my masters,” Kyle protested, “Caitlin, as you said, hails from a powerful lineage, and she is much more dangerous and elusive than you imagine. I request your permission to kill her instantly. There is too much at stake.”

“You are still young,” said another judge, “and so we will forgive your guessing our judgment. Anyone else, we would kill on the spot.”

Kyle lowered his head. He realized he had gone too far. No one ever argued against the judges.

“She is in Assisi. That is where you will go next. Go quickly, and do not delay. Now that you’ve mentioned it, we quite look forward to watching her die before our eyes.”

Kyle turned to go.

“And Kyle,” one of them called.

He spun around.

The lead judge pulled back his hood, revealing the most grotesque face Kyle had ever seen, covered in bumps and lines and warts. He opened his mouth and smiled a hideous smile, showing yellow, sharp teeth, and shining black eyes. He grinned even wider: “Next time you show up unannounced, it will be you who dies slowly.”

Caitlin flew over the idyllic Umbrian countryside, passing over hills and valleys, surveying the lush, green landscape in the early morning light. Spread out below her were small farming communities, small, stone cottages surrounded by hundreds of acres of land, smoke rising from their chimneys.