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An Excerpt
By Rick Darr
Mind you, in years gone by I have used written more than my share of recognized
works, using various pseudonyms. This share my entire life, but not today.
This writing refers mostly to the previous four months and marks the first time I have
ever used my true name. Perhaps in the near future I shall write my full
autobiography and share my entire life, but not today.
For now, let’s just say that I am over one thousand years old, have been courted by
kings and queens and tasted their blood as well. Yes, I am a vampire, but I have
already let that slip. Sixty years ago, as the industrial age began to rise up and
devour the earth like a great beast, it occurred to me that my time had come. I decided
enough was enough and entered these very caverns in which I now sit, deep
beneath the city of Paris. Since this was originally built as a large mausoleum it
seemed a fitting place to take a last long sleep. After unceremoniously removing the
current occupant, a merchant I suppose, from one of the cement coffins and finding
he did not mind, I lay down for the last time and faded into oblivion, or so I thought.
My powers had grown to such an extent that I presumed it possible to will myself into
non-existence. Apparently I overestimated myself or underestimated God; either way
it was not to be. At first there were dreams, but I willed myself even deeper into the
self-induced coma and from that point on I knew black nothingness.
And then there was something. I felt pure evil pass over me, laughingly saying hello. I
was awake and a dark shroud gripped my entire being. Once before I had a similar
experience, ages ago in the time of that exquisite madman, Napoleon. Back then the
thing, the shroud, had managed to stay just out of my reach, as if it knew of my
presence, then it just disappeared. Did it invoke fear within me? No, the exact
opposite in fact: I felt extreme curiosity. You see, in all my years of dominating almost
every creature that has crossed my path there were a few times that I faced what
might be called death, but not many.
It took me a few moments to gather my senses and realize I was still on this plane of
existence, and not in some netherworld. Rising from my coffin I felt the evil essence
begin to fade. Whatever it was seemed to be above me, moving slowly to the east.
Before I could follow it something else caught my attention, voices.
“Henri, do we have all the exits secure?” This and what followed were spoken in
French. I offer my translation skills to you, my English reader.
“Yes Pierre, the Nazis will never find us here. Our groups are scattered throughout
these caverns and even if they find some of us, the rest should be safe.” This one
placed some authority in his tone.
“I wish we could get that pig Hitler before he leaves Paris. If we could kill him now
then perhaps our traitorous brothers could be stopped as well.”
“Have no fear Henri, the Vichy government is a sham. We will tear it down one brick
at a time,” replied the leader.
How curious and, yes, quite confusing as well. I had no clue to tell me what year it
was, nor how long I had been asleep. For the next two hours I stood in the shadows
and listened, gathering as much information as possible. The clues came. It turned
out the year was 1940 and the Germans had apparently conquered France under the
guidance of someone called Adolph Hitler. This did not surprise me, as the European
continent had fought many wars over the centuries. What did intrigue me was the
fact that this Hitler had passed overhead at the time of my awakening. Was it
coincidence?
