Authors: J. Morgan
MisStaked (8 page)
"My team and I were excavating an isolated region located in Alberta. We thought we had stumbled onto an ordinary village site. For the most part, that was true. It wasn't until we excavated one of the outbuildings we unearthed, for the lack of a better term—a temple.
"The temple was simple in construction, like others associated with the Inuit tribes who populate the Northern Americas, except for one thing. The others were dominated by animal totems, but the central god of this particular structure was humanoid in form. The wooden totems we unearthed were carved in the shape of a female. My first guess was they represented a new earth mother, or rather an old one as yet unknown to the archeological record. Some of the inscriptions seemed to back this hypothesis.
"In the center of the main room sat a wooden altar about the size of a man. At first I thought it was a solid piece of redwood, possibly an ancient sarcophagus. On closer examination it turned out to be a collection of blocks fitted so perfectly together, you could barely detect the seams. The altar was looped in two places by huge bands of rope, about as thick as my arm in diameter on either end.
"My crew tried unsuccessfully to move the altar. It proved too heavy to so much as budge. When we examined it closer, we found the rope to be interwoven with strands taken from the garlic plant and even had clumps of the root inside of it. At the time I didn't find this strange. It was common practice in earth mother worship to have vegetables and fruit as offerings on their altars, which this obviously must have been.
"In the middle of the altar's top we found a recessed panel. Doing our best not to damage the structure, we carefully removed the panel. Tucked beneath the six-inch block of wood, we found the stone tablet.
"Unfortunately, our dig was cut short. The dig began in early winter and the weather became too volatile for us to remain in the area. We brought the tablet back with us for further examination. After securing the funds to finance another dig, we went back the following year, but storms had erased any sign of the site. So, we were left with the tablet without anything else substantial to back up our findings.” Dr. Grayson leaned against the table as she finished her explanation.
"So, what did the tablet say?” Breathred asked, his face scrunched up, clearly trying to make sense of her story.
"That's the strange part. For one thing it was not written in any form of pictogram one would associate with the American Indians, which forced us to look elsewhere for our Rosetta Stone. The closest thing to it was Ancient Sumerian, but even saying that is a stretch. It took me two long years to finally translate the text. This is what it said.” She opened a notebook lying on the table. In a low voice she began to read,
"'The Mother wakes to darkness. Her light the only radiance we need. She hungers, so we hunger. The moon is her lover. In the hours of night she walks. Let every man know that she will walk again at the dawning of each turn of the world a thousand ages from the first. The world will tremble and the children shall rise from their homes to conquer that which is ours by right.’”
Breathred looked at the woman. He wanted more. There had to be more to it than a weird obtuse poem. He could tell Dr. Grayson thought so too.
"I know what you're thinking.” She gave Breathred a wry smile. “There was more but unfortunately, the tablet had deteriorated to such a state it was impossible for me to decipher anything else."
"Interesting, as histories go, but what makes you think we can help you?” Stud asked, reading her notes over her shoulder.
"By itself the text is like you said—nothing to draw any real conclusion from. But if you add the stills we took of the temple's interior, it paints a different story. See for yourself.” From inside the notebook she pulled a series of eight-by-tens and laid them on the table.
All three friends hunkered over the photos. They were of two huge totems. The monstrous structures must have been at least forty feet tall and ten to fifteen feet wide at the base, if the perspective between the statues and the people standing at their bases was correct.
Breathred followed the totems from their bases upward. Carved at each statue's top was the face of a woman. The detail in the ancient sculptures was spectacular. It was as if the wooden statues were living and breathing before him. Then, it stuck him. The woman's canines were protruding past her lips. They were sharp and came to a point just below the thin, bottom lip. The lips themselves were curled into an evil smile.
He looked over to Stud to see if the chimp was seeing the same thing. The shocked look on the simian's face told him all he needed to know. They were looking at the oldest evidence of vampires ever recorded. The concept was just fantastic.
"That's a Vampire,” Luna said, finally catching on.
"Exactly my point. If the temple totems belong to a vampire goddess, then the text belongs to a vampire prophecy. The discrepancy is this—the temple dates to somewhere around five hundred B.C., and the tablet is so much older the two can't possibly be related. But here they are in the same place,” Dr. Grayson said, drawing blank stares from the companions.
"It would also explain why whoever put the tablet inside the altar used garlic-laced ropes to bind it in place. They didn't want the tablet to fall into vampiric hands.” Breathred rubbed his jaw, thoughtfully before finally asking. “Doctor Grayson, what is it you want from us?"
"After some serious work I've secured a grant to return to the site. This time the money is through a fund granted to the college by a corporate sponsor. The ceiling—while limited—is enough to see us through to the end of this semester. What I want is for you to come along as my private advisor. If there is something to this vampire business, I want someone along who knows what's going on."
"So you expect some kind of vampire interference?” Luna asked.
"Not really, but truthfully I don't know what to expect. Until a few months ago I would have laughed at the idea of vampires existing as anything more than a myth. Now, I'm not sure what to think."
"I can't speak for the others, but I'm in,” Breathred announced, to no one's surprise.
"Me too,” Luna and Stud answered in unison.
"Thank you. As strange as it sounds, your help to help makes me feel better.” Dr. Grayson smiled.
"When do we leave?” Breathred asked.
"The expedition leaves at the beginning of next week. I know this is short notice, but until Miss Walking Batch mentioned you, I had no idea of what to do. If I can get you to fill out these forms, I should have your paperwork ready to submit by tomorrow morning. Look, I may have been a little rough on you at the beginning, but I think we understand each other now. If you can come by after noon tomorrow, I'll have everything ready. Luna, you can sign the paperwork after class. Okay?” Grayson turned to the girl.
"Sure thing, Doctor Grayson,” Luna said, overjoyed to be included.
"Unfortunately, you will not get paid for this, since you're enrolled in the university, but it will count for credit toward your degree,” the professor sounded sorry to say.
Luna didn't look entirely happy about the fact, but said, “Cool."
"I can put the monkey on the payroll, but I'd rather he didn't come with you tomorrow, Mr. Petrifunck. It might be kind of hard to explain his rather unique appearance if someone saw him.” Not to mention how hard it would be on her already frazzled nerves; but she kept that to herself.
"That's right, discriminate against the chimp. Another case of the man trying to keep the ape down,” Stud howled.
"Shut up and be glad she didn't dissect you.” Luna grimaced at the chimp. He shut up but continued to sulk.
"If that's everything, I think we're done until tomorrow.” Dr. Grayson walked them to the door.
Breathred was unusually quiet. It didn't mean he wasn't excited. His mind was already at work on the most pressing problem ahead of them. Who would pick up his comics while they were gone?
A vampire court consists of a master and at least one subordinate. Where do you think Lucas got the idea?
Lewis yawned. He hated waking up. Being dead hadn't cured him of such a mortal foible. Only one thing made the whole enterprise worthwhile, he had news for Leopold. Depending on the old hag's mood, Leopold might even listen.
He stretched the last of the undead rest from his bones, as he entered the master's chambers. His back was killing him. He really had to get a new mattress for his coffin. The old one was slap worn out. Maybe, one of those sleep-number jobs. If it was good enough for the Bionic Woman, it was good enough for him.
Lewis found Leopold staring out the window. The elder vampire was dressed in a paisley frock-coat with matching pantaloons that must have come from Prince's closet, circa 1986. The man seriously needed to get a total makeover expert on his case or at the very least a straight guy with some Dockers.
"Leo, my man. You, all right?” Lewis asked, falling into a chair.
"Yes, Lewis, I am fine. I was just looking at the city. Soon, the Mother will rise and all this will be ours. It is a lofty thing, is it not?"
"If you say so,” Lewis answered, more than a little bored by the subject.
"I didn't hear you come in this morning. I trust you had a productive night?” The question had become a nightly ritual between the two and meant nothing. Lewis knew by now Leopold asked to be civil, but could care less how the younger vampire spent his nights, as long as he was around when the older vamp needed him.
"Kinda what I need to talk to you about. I think I found your sacrifice.” Lewis grinned.
"You jest. How could you find the impossible? I have had agents scouring the globe in search of this myth for decades, and you sit there and tell me in the span of a single night you have done what they have been unable to do.” Leopold twisted in his chair, letting out an amused chuckle.
"What can I say? It's a black thing,” Lewis said, idly cleaning his fingernails.
"Pray, tell me of this apparition,” Leopold demanded, “and it better not be you snacking on another crack-head and having visions of the Virgin Mary again."
"You're not going to let that go, are you?” Lewis snarled.
"Of course not. Tell me about your mystery virgin before I grow bored with the whole affair."
Lewis had to fight the instinct to bitch-slap the vampire. He counted to ten, then began to speak, “I saw this cat at this little club up on the east side. He smelled so pure I though I was going cheese myself."
"Then, why is he not laying at my feet?"
"He had some muscle with him. He was protected,” Lewis explained. “It was some chick, but she was not some chick, if you know what I mean."
"No, I don't know what you mean. Please feel free to explain to me how some ‘chick’ stopped you from getting me what I want.” Leopold bared his fangs and approached the younger vampire.
"She had the power, man. The crazy chick smelled all wrong, like a wet dog or something. I swear she knew what I was. I could hear her talking to me, in here.” Lewis pointed to his head. “She warned me to back off. Take it from me. The chick is bad mojo, Boss Man."
"Bad mojo? Did you just say bad mojo? Is this some bad movie? Did you at least have the sense to track them down?” Leopold yelled, throwing a spray of spittle into Lewis’ face.
"Man, you better tone yo’ freak down, before I throw down on yo’ ass.” Lewis jumped up into Leopold's face. “Ain't no honky gonna get in my face talking shit, and in case you're wondering, honky includes you."
Leopold backed away. Lewis was right. The elder vampire was losing his cool but contributed it all the pressure he'd been under. The Mother's awakening was so close, but without the sacrifice it meant nothing. Besides Lewis was his friend, his only friend. Perhaps the time had come to stalk a psychiatrist. A little Prozac in his diet might be just the thing to calm his frazzled nerves.
"I apologize, my friend. It's just, we're so close,” Leopold said, softly.
"S’ alright, Man. We all gotta blow off steam every once in awhile, but watch it next time."
"Let me start this again. Do you think you can find this man again?"
"Man, he smells so good it'd be hard for him to hide in this city. All I need is to catch the scent, and then I'm on him like white on rice,” Lewis assured the old vampire.
"Good. My other plan is going into action on Monday as scheduled.” Leopold beamed.
"So, the doc went for it, huh?” Lewis said, knowing nobody would pass up a hundred grand.
"Yes. Little does she know she has uncovered something so important, the world will tremble when its origin is revealed.” Leopold sounded like a cartoon villain, but Lewis didn't want to say so.
"So, she heads out and gets the Mother, but how do we get it once she's got it?” Lewis still hadn't figured out how Leopold planned to pull the trick off.
"I have an idea or two on the subject, but if they don't work out, I can send two of my thralls with the expedition. I'll simply allow her to think they're nothing more than representatives of the parent company who's sponsoring her expedition. When the Mother is uncovered, they'll contact me,” Leopold explained.
"What if they open it?” Lewis found himself asking. The old man was actually getting him involved in this madness.
"The Mother will not allow it. Only one born of the blood can open the casket, and even then they must have the sacrifice,” Leopold assured him with an evil wink.
"Then we're sitting pretty."
"Now that that's settled, did you find the article I wanted?” Leopold asked greedily.
"Course I did, man,” Lewis groaned, pulling a CD from his jacket.
"
Pure Funk
! Get me the Victrola.” Leopold swooned, as he cradled the jewel case in his shaking hands.
"It's called a CD player, man. Get it right.” Lewis snatched the CD from Leopold's trembling hands.
He snapped the boom box's lid and inserted the disc. He pushed Play and turned to leave, as Wild Cherry began blaring from the speakers. He wasn't about to watch this. There was nothing worse than a white boy trying to get his groove on.