Elena's brother Ion visits his home today. But the Boyar already cut Ion's throat and buried him in unconsecrated ground.
Their mother knows Ion returns tonight for his sister. Can she convince the priest to grant him absolution? Or the Boyar to protect Elena from the brother who sinned with her even while still alive? Does Elena want protection from her brother?
In the Middle Ages . . .
Vampires looked more like movie zombies than movie stars.
Vampires didn't introspectively brood on the meaning of their existence.
Vampires did not possess souls.
Vampires didn't act like preppie boys with fangs.
Vampires didn't date, let alone go steady.
Vampires couldn't control their lust for blood -- and didn't want to.
Vampires lived in graveyards.
Vampires looked ugly, not "beautiful."
Vampires smelled bad. They didn't glitter.
If you can handle a vampire who's more than just a tall dark 'bad boy' gone undead -
If you can handle a vampire who wants nothing out of death but blood from the living -
If you can handle blood lust mixed with a young girl's illicit longing for the only man who ever showed her kindness . . .
Genre: FICTION / HorrorThis short story originally appeared in Vampire's Crypt in 1992.
Tell him it's about my son. We saw Ion today."
Blood drained out of the servant's face. He crossed himself and scurried into the house. He returned still pale, and led them inside.
Elena tried to hang back, but her mother pulled her harshly. "He'll kill you first."
Boyar Rovin, Father Vasile and their wives gorged themselves on rare beef, vegetable soup and red wine, loudly chewing, slurping and smacking their lips. A young girl sitting in a corner wet-nursed the Boyar's newest baby. A beautifully woven carpet covered the wood floor.
Elena's mother fell to her knees beside the Boyar, grabbed his right hand and kissed it fervently, disregarding the sharp knife still clenched in his fist. Blood trickled from a small cut on her forehead as she went to the priest and pressed his pudgy fingers against her open mouth.
"Masters, I am so upset, I don't know what to do. You must help me."
His fat face still flushed red with drink, Boyar Rovin said, "Old woman, you still owe me five baskets of millet, and you're short your wretched son's pair of hands. Why are you wasting time here? Go home and work."
"My lord, Ion came to us today. We saw him. Father, you know what this means. You must grant him absolution."
Boyar held his fork in mid-air. Hot juice dripped off the chunk of beef. Elena's mouth watered. She had not eaten meat since last summer when Ion killed a rabbit for her.
"What's wrong with you? I hung that scoundrel by the feet from a tree and cut his throat like a pig. He's buried in the woods so he won't disgrace the graves of decent Christian folk."
"He is a vampire now, Master. He came to our cottage today.
| Language | Status |
|---|---|
|
French
|
Already translated.
Translated by Saleem Rustom
|
|
German
|
Already translated.
Translated by Karl Apsel
|
|
Italian
|
Already translated.
Translated by Mauro Saracino
|
|
Portuguese
|
Already translated.
Translated by Lara A Machado
|
|
Spanish
|
Already translated.
Translated by Ninoska Ivette Toscanini Oliveros
|
|
Turkish
|
Already translated.
Translated by Erman Çekinmez
|
