Dark Tales Read online

  Alex flipped open the yellowed cover. The publication date was 16 something; it had been smeared. But this book was beautifully preserved, just like the other million items in Rudov's museum of a house. It was a book, a rulebook, some sort of god damn monster Cub Scout manual. " Rule 1: Adapt to the times."

  Damn ironic. Well, Rudov was no vampire that was for sure! Alex flicked the book shut and dried his wet hair with a towel. Elise came out in another dress nearly identical to the first one, only pale pink.

  "Laugh if you want to, Alex, but it might just help." Elise snatched the book off of the vanity.

  "I wasn't laughing."

  "Oh, bullshit." Elise went downstairs with the book. He heard her call up the stairs on her way down, "Oh, Have you seen the cat?"

  "No," Alex called after her. He hadn't seen the cat for a while. Must be hiding somewhere in this enormous house. Poor thing wasn't used to so much space.

  Over dinner, Elise found it necessary to bore him to death with her newfound knowledge on vampires. Not that he cared, but he found it amusing that she was taking it so seriously.

  "Did you know that it is a total myth that Vampires can't go out in the day? The older they are, the longer they can stand the sun," Elise said.

  "Oh, really?" Alex tried to keep from laughing. Alex lifted the lid from the silver platter before him...there sat two large steaks surrounded by whole, small potatoes.

  "Steak?" Alex asked in a shocked voice.

  "Yes, it's steak. What did you think it was?" Elise laughed.

  "We haven't had meat for awhile. I thought you had taken to old Vladimir's kooky vegetable diet."

  "Oh, I have. It's very cleansing. I just felt like a steak that's all. Never hurt to cheat every now and then!" Elise winked and placed a steak on his plate.

  He cut a huge piece and plunged it into his mouth without so much as forethought. Suddenly, he spat the piece of meat, rather undignified, back onto his plate.

  "Damn! This thing is raw!" Alex grabbed his linen napkin and rubbed at his tongue, forgetting his manners.

  "You don't have to spit." Elise looked pissed and hurt at the same time. She ate her bloody, oozing steak as if she had eaten bloody squirting steaks all her life.

  "How can you eat this shit?" Alex gulped his wine unable to remove the sticky, bloody taste from his mouth.

  "I happen to appreciate meat in its natural juices, and..."

  Alex cut her off. "Natural juices? What, blood?"

  "A little blood never hurt anybody, Alex."

  "It's dirt."

  "What is dirt?" Elise chewed on.

  "The saying. It's not blood, the saying goes, A little dirt never hurt anybody."

  "Well, I imagine you're right. Dirt never hurt anybody either."

  Alex threw his napkin down. "I think I'll go up and read."

  "What, and not eat?" Elise asked.

  "Sorry. I've lost my appetite." Alex went upstairs and flopped on the bed. The cool breeze blew the curtains up and down, bringing with it the fresh newly rained on grassy aroma from outside. He lay there for a few minutes then realized he was truly hungry. He decided to go get a little something from the kitchen. If he used the back staircase, Elise would never know that he was hungry and just didn't want her

  disgusting steaks. By admitting he was hungry, he almost felt guilty for practically storming out of the dining room.

  In the kitchen, he could hear the violin concerto coming softly from the CD player they had brought with them from home. Then he became aware of voices. He snuck around the corner and peered into the dining room. There sat Rudov. Not only was he sitting there, but he was eating his steak. Well, at least that cleared his dreams up. All those old movies and books always said that vampires did not eat meat. So, Alex sighed, Vladimir was just an old kook, and his thoughts were simply wild thoughts and his dreams childish nightmares.

  In fact, Alex felt incredibly stupid this time. All of his fears and suspicions, spying on Elise, and second-guessing Vladimir, all seemed so foolish. Maybe he was jealous as Elise claimed.

  Maybe he should be glad that Elise had found a solace in the ramblings of a senile old man with a habit of being a pack rat.

  Alex purposed not to bother Elise about her "therapy" anymore; instead, he'd do what this vacation was meant for...rest.

  Alex explored the house on a daily basis, read the old books, looked through the old crates and trunks. The supply of old stuff was endless.

  Elise took rambling walks with Rudov. Wandered his gardens, and slept late, till nearly four in the afternoon, everyday. She'd awake like a lazy cat and then transform into a fluttering fairy beaming and going about all of her activities with new zeal and happiness. They kept separate dinner hours. He slept at night. She slept during the day. In a way, the time alone did Alex good. Elise's long nights of sleepwalking had tired him, and were now replaced by the sheer change in her sleeping patterns. There was no more sleepwalking, because she didn't sleep at night anymore.

  Every once in awhile, the old vampire notions popped into his head, but Alex would laugh it away. Rudov allowed Alex free reign of his house, well most of it anyway. Certain doors were always locked, but there was so much he could snoop through. It was like being a child again and being allowed to look through things and touch things, and play with things.

  Alex decided to stay up and spend some time with Elise. They hadn't spent much time together once he had gotten over his case of the creeps. He waited for Elise to go downstairs, and then he followed her down.

  "Alex, what are you doing up?"

  "I thought it would be nice to spend some time together." Alex noticed she was thinner, paler, and yet more voluptuous. Lips redder, fuller, breasts fuller, her whole body was more curvaceous; but reed thin in the same glance. Perhaps, their lack of sexual relations had just stirred his blood; maybe he had forgotten how beautiful she really was.

  "That would be nice," Elise said slowly. Her words were carefully pronounced. She sort of sounded like old Vladimir himself. Elise was wearing a high-collared Victorian styled dress. Pink. She looked like a porcelain doll. Her skin was so white it was nearly opaque.

  Alex walked closer and pulled her to him. She was cool. Her skin was cool beneath the thin fabric of the dress.

  "This is a beautiful dress."

  "Thank you. Dr. Rudov gave it to me. It belonged to his sister."

  "His sister? She must have been quite a lot older than him."

  "Yes. I believe she was."

  Alex clasped her beautiful hair and buried his face in the long tresses. He kissed her earlobes and her cheeks. She did not move. She was cold and stiff. He pushed her collar down to kiss her throat and in one quick flash she jerked away. Alex gasped in horror.

  "Those marks!"

  Elise pulled her collar tight and held her hand over the spot.

  "Those gashes on your throat, my god! What are they?" Alex tried to pursue Elise, but she almost ran from him.

  "They're nothing, Alex. Nothing at all. Just bites. A cat bit me." Elise smiled.

  "The cat? Our cat? I haven't seen the cat for a month or more. What is on you neck? What made those marks?"

  "The cat is around. She comes in at night."

  "I don't want you to see Rudov anymore. None. No more. Nada. Never again. Weird things have been happening ever since you met that piece of shit doctor. No more. Do you hear me, Elise?"

  "What makes you think Rudov did this? You're paranoid."

  "I don't know who or what is doing what, but I'm sick of it. No more Rudov."

  "Okay, Alex. Just calm down. It is only a little cat bite. I'll go see a doctor tomorrow."

  "When? You don't get up until evening. Do you know any doctors, besides the emergency room that stay open at those hours? No! You don't because there aren't any!" Alex was screaming and waving his arms wildly. He turned around and stormed upstairs cussing all the way to his room.

  Elise sat silently on the sofa and wept. She peered down at her h
ands; bloody tears covered her palms. She pulled a shawl around her and went out.

  Alex heard the door close. He knew where she was going. She went where she always went every night. Alex punched his pillow. She was going to Dr. Rudov's.

  Alex heard the pounding of his heart. His ears pulsed with the rushing of his blood. The thought kept turning over and over in his mind. She was going to Vladimir Rudov's. Suddenly all of the events, the dreams, and the suspicions seemed real. Not just the antics or thoughts of craziness or jealousy as Elise tried to convince him. Suddenly, it all made sense.

  So what if Rudov ate meat. Elise had said that some vampires could eat meat...very raw and bloody meat. The sleepwalking, the trances, the raw meat, the old clothes, the locked doors-it all made sense now. Alex clutched at the sides of his head in frenzy. This was insane! But, what could he do? He couldn't very well run down to the local police station and cry, "Help! My wife is being turned into a vampire by the old doctor who lives in the big house on the hill!" He'd be locked up in a rubber room with a nice white jacket for his attire.

  Alex jumped off the bed and paced the floor. The book! The book that Rudov had given Elise when they first arrived. When she had been having vampire dreams, and he had had them too! The sick reality that the dreams were not dreams at all caused his stomach to nearly wretch.

  Alex tore through Elise's drawers, the dresser, and the vanity. He found the small volume in her make-up bag. He had a plan now. He would memorize the book. Learn the rules, the myths, and then beat old Vladimir at his own game.

  When he woke up the next morning, he discovered that he had fallen asleep in his clothes clutching the half read book; and that Elise was sleeping soundly in the bed beside him. She had placed blankets over the windows again to make the room darker. The whole room had a blue tint to it due to the blue blankets that could not fully keep the sunlight out.

  He read the book over breakfast, and finished it by lunch.

  "Rule 36: Avoid wooden stakes. A stake through the heart and/or complete decapitation will kill a vampire."

  Alex paused for a moment. The movies were correct. The old myths had stayed as old and unchanging as Rudov's house. Old and frozen in time. Unfortunately, Elise had that same oldness to her and that inability to change. Her flowing gowns and excessive adornment of pearls gave glimpses into the era before modern styles or conveniences. Alex made a supply list, got in the car and headed to town. Once in town he purchased a large mallet, and six or seven thick wooden stakes intended for gardening, but with a little alteration the stakes would serve his purpose.

  Once home, he cut and carved the gardening stakes into the size of a tent stake and sharpened the ends. He put everything into a large knapsack. He also put in a vial of holy water that he had "borrowed" from the local church on his way home. He read the rules again. He hid the gear and was re-reading the book again, when Elise walked into the room.

  "You're mad, aren't you?" Elise asked.

  "Mad? About what?" Alex looked up from the book.

  "About me going out last night." Elise fiddled with the lace on her cuff.

  "Did HE give you THAT dress too?" Alex asked.

  "You are mad." Elise twitched her mouth, exposing two longer teeth, but quickly pulling her lips back over them, as if she still wasn't use to them being there.

  "No. Not really. I don't own you," Alex said indifferently and returned to the book.

  "What are you reading?" Elise moved closer, rather like she floated closer.

  "Your book on vampires." Alex put extra emphasis on the V in vampires.

  "Oh?" Elise raised an eyebrow.

  "It's interesting." Alex shrugged. "Oh, by the way, the maid found the cat. Bloodless. Drained dry. Freaked the poor woman out. Had to give her the rest of the day off she was so upset. I told her it was probably some freak accident, cut or something and that the cat bled to death." Alex watched Elise's face for some sort of emotion or expression. There was none.

  "Are you going out tonight?" He turned a page.

  "Yes," a short answer with no feeling attached to it.

  "Why don't you just stay there tomorrow?" Alex looked up.

  "You mean sleep over?" Elise raised both her eyebrows this time.

  "Sure." He shrugged. "Why not? There are plenty of rooms. I have to mow tomorrow and I don't want to wake you."

  "Mow. Can't you pay someone to do that?" Elise smiled.

  "It's good therapy," Alex said sarcastically, but she didn't get it. "Sleep over, have fun. We'll be leaving soon."

  "Are you sure you don't mind?" Elise smiled.

  "I trust you. Go on. Have a good time." Alex smiled back.

  He knew that Rudov slept whenever he wanted to usually, but since Elise couldn't go out in the day, young as she was, he had to be sleeping in the day in order to entertain her at night. He had to get them while they were asleep with the stake through the heart, just like the old movies, the old stories in the old books. It was the way. It always had been.

  Alex went to bed and fell off thinking of the gruesome task that lay before him.

  In the morning, he got his gear and tramped over to Rudov's house. Elise had said before that the maid went to the grocery store until 11 am. He had two hours. He knew the first thing was to find where Vladimir was sleeping. And he knew it was going to be behind one of those locked doors.

  He searched through drawers of aging belongings to find the keys. He dug around in old cupboards, curios, chests, and finally found a skeleton key in a small onyx box on a shelf; but it failed to fit any of the rooms. Alex poked around in the house, the old, house that had collected centuries of junk and treasures. He turned a corner into another hallway and noticed a dark stairway leading down into the belly of the house.

  He turned on his flashlight and followed the winding progression of stairs. It was dank and dark and slippery. The strong scent of mildew and mold tingled sourly in his nostrils. At the bottom of the stairs stood a wooden door so old, he knew it must be part of the original house built before the colonial times as Rudov had mentioned.

  Alex pushed on the door. It swung open easily. It did not creak or groan. It slid on its hinges as if it were freshly oiled. Alex touched the hinge. It smelled like oil.

  He shined the light around to reveal a small cave-like cellar. Roots hung from the dirt and brick walls and up through the floor. It smelled like wet earth. On a large slab near the farthest wall slept Rudov...and clinging to him was the very naked body of Elise. Rudov was fully dressed, decked out fashionably as usual. He was sleeping soundly in his little hide away.

  Alex groped in his knapsack until he found the mallet and a stake. He had to do it. Do it the way it had always been done. The way it had never changed. Years and centuries had proven it to be effective. Rudov was a fool. Unchanging, never wavering, stuck in some other century. Now he would be killed by the same old, unchanging ways that one kills a vampire. He only hoped he wouldn't have to kill Elise. Maybe when he killed Rudov, the curse would break for Elise, the book was unclear. Alex thought of the rooms full of antiques and artifacts above him, things reminiscent of the lives of Vladimir Rudov...and in an instant placed the stake gently on Vladimir's chest, over the heart. He drew back the mallet, struck the stake, which only made a dull clinking sound on Vladimir's chest. Suddenly a hand shot up and grabbed Alex by the throat. A firm, unyielding grasp, slowly crushing the air from him, closing off all entries for more air to come in. Rudov's eyes sprang open and a smile, that thin-lipped, bloodless smile curled over his face. Elise, too, had awakened and had slinked back against the wet, dripping wall like a cat ready to spring if necessary to defend herself. Her fangs were barred, her lips parted and snarling.

  Rudov sat up slowly, never letting go of Alex.

  Alex kicked frantically at the air as Rudov stood up and dangled him high in the air. Alex felt dizzy. He gasped for air that would not enter. His face felt hot. His eyes like they were soon to explode. Rudov laughed quietly at first, then lo
udly.

  "Would you kill me while I was sleeping?" Vladimir Rudov laughed again.

  "Did you think that a simple wooden stake would kill me? Ah, yes. The book." He read Alex's mind, "Well, you memorized a lot of that book, didn't you, Alex?"

  "You forgot rule number one, didn't you, Alex?"

  Alex tried to answer. The room was spinning around furiously now.

  "You're wondering why the stake didn't go in, didn't stab me in the heart as I slept, aren't you, Alex?" He laughed again. "And, you can't remember Rule number one...the most important rule of all!"

  Vladimir Rudov held Alex higher still and with his other hand ripped open his immaculately starched white shirt to reveal a heavy, stab-proof vest, impenetrable. "Rule Number One: Adapt to the times. My dear, dear Alex. Adapt to the times."

  Alex felt the grip on his throat tighten, and then there was darkness.

  COLD WAR

  Rebecca M. Senese is a Toronto based writer who writes crime fiction, horror and science fiction, often all at once in the same story. Garnering an Honorable Mention in THE YEAR'S BEST SCIENCE FICTION and nominated for numerous Aurora Awards, her work has appeared in TRANSVERSIONS, DEADBOLT MAGAZINE, ON SPEC, THE VAMPIRE'S CRYPT, STORYTELLER and INTO THE DARKNESS, amongst others.

  * * *

  After the cops left, taking Wilson's wasted corpse, Pete was still shaky from panic. So close, goddammit, too close.

  When they'd rung the buzzer at five that morning, snarling into the vid-cam, he was sure they'd come for him.

  Spike ratted, he'd thought wildly as his trembling fingers fumbled on the door lock keypad. The cops waved piercer guns, powerful enough to blast through a three inch steel door, never mind the thin slice of plexiwood that was the apartment door.