by Mark Piggott

Saul ran through the deserted streets of the ruined cityscape, clutching his satchel tight against his chest. He was weak from malnutrition, evident by his emaciated frame. His pulse quickened, and his breathing labored as he picked up the pace. Saul kept glancing between the streets before him and the setting sun. “It’s almost dusk…I have to get home!” he worried. Such was life in the Twilight.

The Twilight of Humanity, as it was called by many, was the world they lived in today. No one knew what brought it on—climate change, pandemic, war, or famine—but some maladies saw a rise in two factions: Witches and Vampires. The crisis could have stirred them from their hibernation or created them altogether. In any case, the world belonged to them now. Humans, at least those who remained, were mere cattle to these monsters … Food for their insatiable appetites.

Fear swelled within his chest as sweat beaded across his brow. Saul knew it was a risk running to the black market so late in the day, but his wife desperately needed this medicine. Although witches could come out at any time, vampires were restricted to the darkness. Being out on the streets at night was a death sentence for any human.

 The howl of a lone wolf could be heard in the distance, like a rooster on the farm, terrifying him. Saul knew that his time was running out. He knew a shortcut down a nearby alley, but it was dark and potentially dangerous. Saul steeled his heart, knowing he had to get home for the sake of his family. He turned the corner and raced into the darkness without losing a step.

Saul kept a steady pace, leaping over the obstacles littering the ground. His eyes tried to focus on which way to go, but he could not discern the right direction. In fact, the alley kept changing, like a maze, twisting and turning as the darkness closed in on him.

He found himself at what appeared to be a dead end. Saul gazed at the brick wall. His eyes told him one thing, but his mind said something different. Confusion was crawling about his brain, itching and pricking at him like a swarm of flies over a dead body. His dilemma became perilous when he heard the voice call out to him.

“Hello, dear, can you spare anything to help an old woman?” he heard call out from behind. A chill ran down his spine, and he slowly turned around, peeking from the corner of his eye. All he saw was a figure cloaked in black, with only her stark white face visible from underneath her tattered hood. Her skin was cracked and covered in lesions as white as the driven snow. Her smile showed yellow teeth as rotten as the air around her. “In a hurry, deary? What’s the rush? Is there someone you love waiting for you?”

He held his breath, not uttering a word. Saul knew better than to fall under her spell any further by conversing with her. This was no mere acolyte or initiate but a high witch. This alleyway was a trap set for human prey, and Saul fell right into it.

“What’s the matter, dear, cat got your tongue?” she screeched, cackling under her foul breath, but Saul remained silent. “No? How rude…I guess I’ll have to make you talk!” She drew a twisted branch inside her cloak, a wand to focus her magic. She thrust it toward him, but Saul was prepared.

He threw salt in her face. Saul always carried salt when he went out on errands. Its purity was the only protection against witches. The high witch took a faceful of the pure white mineral from Saul, a lucky shot. She screamed in agony as the salt burned her flesh like acid. She dropped her wand and grabbed her face, writhing in pain as she bounced off the walls. Saul leaped into action, stepping on the wand and breaking it in two. With that, the illusion faded, and the alley cleared.

He did not hesitate as he took off, running away from the screaming witch. There was no time for revenge or retribution. He needed to get away before others came rushing toward her screams. Her suffering would be enough for now.

The way was clear, and Saul made it to the doorway of his home just as the last ray of sunlight dipped behind the skyline. Night had fallen, and the sounds grew louder and louder. It was like a cage had been unlocked and all the wild animals were let loose, hungry for their next meal. The shrieks echoed around the ruined city. You never knew where they came from, causing fear and panic in the remaining humans. Fearful prey was easier to catch.

The hidden entrance to his home had two doors. He carefully locked, bolted, and latched the outdoor before he even attempted to open the inner door. Saul felt like a miser, locking away his gold for safekeeping, but his family was more precious than that. He had to protect them…they had to survive.

He quickly stepped through the inner door and repeated the same procedure, locking it securely from the inside. “Olivia, I made it home. How are you…” his voice trailed off as he turned around. Olivia sat in a chair next to a small table. Her lifeless arm stretched out across the table, resting on an open teapot. Blood trickled out from slashes on her wrist slowly into the kettle. Her head rested comfortably on her arm, but you could see the life slowly fading. His eyes rolled back in her head, and blood trickled from her lips. Olivia muttered something incoherent as she held her hand on her pregnant belly.

“So, you finally made it home,” a low, guttural voice said. The pale figure sat across from Olivia, sipping blood from a teacup. His long, delicate fingers wrapped around the handle as razor-sharp fingernails tapped against the china. His gray trench coat, smooth and neat, offset his ageless complexion as long black hair flowed down around his body. Red eyes stared at Saul, piercing him to his soul. He was in the presence of a vampire lord, and it terrified him.

“Lord Moncrieff…what…what are you doing here?” Saul stuttered. He wanted to rush over to help his wife, but he knew he would die before taking a single step. He just stood there, obedient and submissive to his master.

“I’m here because you were not at your appointed place,” the vampire plainly stated. “I keep you and your wretched family alive to watch over me while I sleep during the day. And when I awoke this evening, you were nowhere to be found.” He picked up the teapot, brushed Olivia’s lifeless arm to one side, and poured himself another cup of her freshly drained blood. “So, before I let your cow die, I would like to hear your explanation of why you were reminiscent in your duty to me.”

Lord Moncrieff sat back in the chair and sipped his drink, waiting patiently for his servant to speak. Saul trembled in fear. The pain of watching his wife and baby slowly die was killing him. He almost wished the vampire would finish him and be done with it. But he knew that would not be the case.

 More than likely, he would pay a witch to turn him into a thrall, a mindless husk doing his master’s bidding without question. They required no food, no rest, no companionship. They were the perfect servants, but thralls were easy to kill, which is why upper-class vampires refused to use them. They preferred to subvert human slaves for their daytime protection. However, Saul knew the vampire lord wouldn’t hesitate to subjugate him while searching for another human slave.

Saul swallowed hard, trying to quickly compose his thoughts before speaking. “Lord Moncrieff, I apologize for leaving your side earlier than expected, but I had to pick up something from the Black Market before nightfall,” he explained. “I normally wouldn’t have done it without asking, but it was an emergency. You see, the baby is due soon, and Olivia was having trouble keeping food down. I got some herbal tea to help her, and…”

“And in the process, you assaulted one of the High Witches from the Coven of Cagliostro,” Moncrieff interrupted. “Do you know what those damn witches will charge me for this insult?”

“She trapped me in an alleyway, master. I had no choice but to fight back!”

“No!” he screamed, throwing the teacup at him. Saul ducked, taking his eyes off the vampire for a split second. With a blink of his eyes, he suddenly found the vampire in his face, his hand wrapped around his throat. Moncrieff tightened his grip, his nails digging into his flesh as blood trickled down his throat. The vampire pulled him close and licked the blood, not just for the taste but to put fear in his servant.

“I took you in, trained in the ways to fight those filthy witches, and you repay me by making me obligated to them! You are nothing to me now! Do you hear me? Nothing!” The vampire bared his fangs, tilting Saul’s head to one side before ripping into him. He tore away his flesh, spitting it aside like rotten meat. The blood poured out of Saul, gushing like water from a faucet, as it poured down the gullet of the vampire.

Once he had his fill, Moncrieff tossed Saul’s dead body aside, a lifeless corpse sprawled out across the floor. He turned his attention to Olivia, still clinging to life for the sake of the child she carried. Moncrieff looked at her curiously as he tried to understand her desire to stay alive.

“Why do you hold onto your life, woman?” he asked her, knowing full well she would not answer. “Is the life of the child growing inside you that important? Why would you want to bring a life into a world where they are nothing but food to the likes of me?”

He knelt next to her, covered in her husband’s blood, as he took her hand and placed his own on her swollen belly. He felt the baby still moving within her, struggling to live even before it was born. This confused the vampire as he tried to comprehend this dilemma.

“Your child fights for life even as the mother withers away and dies,” he commented. “That is a spirit fighting survival. I admire that. That is something worth saving.”

Without hesitation, Moncrieff plunged his hand into Olivia, just below her ribcage, ripping away the muscle and tissue. It flopped down to the floor as the little bit of blood remaining in her body spilled out. He used his fingernails to cut and rip at her uterus, cutting out the baby.

“Did you know that a woman’s womb is often called the chalice?” he spoke to her, even though Olivia was already dead. “I always found that fascinating since a chalice is also a loving cup for the most precious liquid of life…blood.” He reached into her womb and pulled out the baby, slicing away the umbilical cord between his fingernails like scissors on a string. He turned the baby upside down and pressed gently on its back until the child’s cries echoed in the home. He turned the child over and cradled it in his hand.

“What a beautiful little girl,” he complimented as the child cried out. “And so strong, too, after suffering so much. You will be mine, little one. I will raise you until the day you come of age. Then, I will make you one of us.”

He cut his thumbnail into his palm, letting the blood drip into her mouth. The child suckled on the blood droplets like sweet milk from her mother. “Have a taste, dear child, for this will make you strong.” After a moment, the child quieted and opened her eyes, looking up at Moncrieff. His cold, dead heart warmed at this little baby staring at him.

“You will be the greatest of us, with the power to rule this world from on high. Witches will fear you; vampires will love you, and humans will worship you. But you need a name, don’t you, little one?” The baby cooed and gurgled at his question. “A child who would be the queen of the vampires needs an appropriate name. I will call you Lilith… What do you think, little Lilith?”

Lilith made little noises, but Moncrieff took it as a sign that she liked her name. He left the little hovel, walking through the ruined cityscape, cradling Lilith. No other vampires dared approach him, even though the scent of fresh blood permeated from the child he carried.

Moncrieff had plans to weave, providing a safe haven and nanny for this foundling. This child was the future, and he would not let any harm come to her. Moncrieff knew she was destined to rule this dark world, and he would be there by her side.

THE END