The Release

Entry for the January/February

ID: 1115993   (Rated: E) The Resurrected Stake & Garlic Contest  ** Currently Closed ** A monthly contest for people who like to write about vampires. by Erika

Prompt chosen: 2. Write about someone who finds a way to pull a vampire character from fiction into reality.


As the bell rang, I shoved my books into my backpack. All around me, I could hear chattering and laughter as my classmates made or confirmed plans for the weekend. Once again I wasn’t included in any of the plans. I had been at the school for about four months, and I had yet to be invited to any of the parties or even to walk home with the group that walked the same way I did. I waited, my backpack hanging heavily off my right shoulder, until the majority of the other students had left the room. Once the room held only a few stragglers, I picked up my jacket and left. I was still having a problem comprehending wearing a light jacket in February. Back home, I would be incased in a down-lined, fluffy coat with mittens and a hat pulled low over my ears. Here though, I was more than comfortable in a jean jacket.

Although my last class had emptied out, I still found myself dodging bodies as I made my way out of the building. It seemed the entire student population had converged on the halls and then gotten stuck in super glue. I wove my way through the stacked bodies; ignoring the annoyed remarks that trailed in my wake. I had learned early on not to apologize; it just tended to piss them off more.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally leaned against the doors that led to freedom. Pushing with all my might, I finally escaped into the afternoon. I shifted my backpack so it lay more comfortably across my shoulder, then slipped my left arm through the free strap. With a glance up at the bight blue sky, another oddity to me, I set off in the direction of the house.

I couldn’t call it home, it just didn’t seem that way with its stucco walls instead of siding and one floor layout. It was a pretty house though and my new bedroom was bigger than the old one. Dad had let me paint the walls anyway I wanted, although after I had painted two walls black and a mural that could have been right out of a vintage horror movie, like my mother and I used to watch, on the other two; he asked me to keep the door closed. The other thing that kept me from calling it home was the lack of my mother. I shuddered despite the warm breeze, as the night she died seeped into my mind. With an effort, I reminded myself that getting distracted on the way home could get me hurt. I had been jumped more than once on the way home by students that didn’t want me wandering through their neighborhoods.

In order to get home, I had to pass through what I thought used to be the downtown district. Now more of the buildings were boarded up than open and the windows had spider web cracks up them or were busted out completely. A few businesses struggled to break even, either too poor or too entrenched to move. Even some of those business seemed like they were just hanging on. There was a dry cleaner, but I never saw any clothes hanging from their racks. Next door to the dry cleaner was a candy store with gritty, grimy windows that always made me wonder how old the product was. Across the street and a couple of doors down was what I suspected was a thrift store. The sign had faded over time, but I could distinguish enough of it to guess at the name, a cutesy pun on words that read ‘The Second Time Around’. The last open shop was a pizza shop. The sign had been freshly painted sometime in the past two years and was therefore the brightest and most easily read of all of them. A cluster of garlic hung on one side of the name, while the other had a bright red tomato. In between were the words ‘Vic’s Pizza’. I wasn’t sure I would want to eat at that pizza place since it made me think that the vic was short for victim, not Victor.

A new store caught my attention. I wasn’t sure if it really was new or if I had just failed to notice it before this, although I wasn’t sure how I could have missed it. Unlike the rest of the buildings, this one was in good repair. The windows were clear and sparkling with brightly painted murals on them. I was drawn in by the colors and the pictures. One window was a magician’s table complete with top hot and a rabbit being pulled from it. Another held various cards, both playing and tarot. The glass door had the word ‘Tophat’ emblazoned on it. With a glance at my watch, that assured me I had plenty of time before my father would be home, I pushed the door open.

Inside the store was as well kept as the outside. Cheerful lights lit the store and were carefully placed so there were few if any shadows. A non-descript man sat on a stool behind the counter to my left, leafing idly though a book. He looked up as I entered, making a bell chime, and smiled easily, then returned his attention to the book. I strolled slowly through the store, my fingers brushing against the items on the shelves. Everything was clean and neat, not at all what I had been expecting from the outsides of the rest of the buildings.

I found myself drawn to the back wall of the store, which was crammed with shelves full of books. It was the only part of the store that wasn’t neatly arranged but it reminded me of a second-hand bookstore I had frequented back East. I trailed my fingers along the spines of the books as I waited for a spine or a title to catch my attention. I ignored the books above my head since there wasn’t a stool or chair I could use to see the higher shelves and concentrated on the books that were at eye level and just below.

About a third of the way through the third set of bookshelves, a color caught my eye. The rest of the books were muted colors, dark grays, blues, and greens; this one had a bright red leather cover, the color of fresh blood. Intrigued, I pulled the book from the shelf. The whole book was covered in the same leather with gold leaf lettering on it. The gold had begun to rub off, making me suspect that the book was old, but there was still enough left for me to read the title; Maleficus Alica Libri. I ran my fingers over the title and cover as I tried to translate the Latin. I hadn’t studied the language since we had moved, Latin had been a private study with my mother, and it hurt me to try to read or speak it. I knew libri meant book but wasn’t sure of the other words. I flipped open the book and was surprised to see that the inside was written in Shakespearean English, not more Latin. I scanned the table of contents, surprised that the book even had one and then decided it would be an interesting read. The first three chapters described love potions when I opened the book to them.

With amusement, I ran my fingers down the list of ingredients for one of the potions, and decided it would be fun to try one of them with Valentine’s Day so close. It would be easy enough to get the items I would need, I had most of them already. I closed the book and turned it over looking for a price but there wasn’t one. With a shrug, I tucked it under my arm, I would ask when I got up front. I browsed the rest of the books for a few minutes but didn’t find anything else that caught my interest.

I set down the last book I had picked up, not that interested in it, and carried the leather book up to the counter. “How much?” I asked.

The man set his catalog down and took the book from the counter. He looked at the book, then consulted a list on the counter. “Fifteen dollars,” he answered. “Plus tax.”

I nodded, it was much cheaper than I was expecting, and I was pretty sure I had enough money on me to get it. “I’ll take it.”

He rung it up and I handed over my money, then accepted my change and the bland paper bag. “Enjoy,” he called after me as I opened the door. The chime that had sounded cheerful on entry, now had an ominous ring.

* * * * *

I left the package on the counter when I got home, but made sure to drop my backpack in my room and sling my coat across the back of my desk chair. My father wouldn’t object to a book on the counter, but he wouldn’t be happy to see the other stuff laying around.

As I opened the fridge to check on ideas for dinner, I picked up the portable phone and dialed the voicemail. The first two messages were from my grandma wanting to know how we were doing and if we were planning to visit her soon. I saved the messages for my dad to listen to and moved on to the third message. That one was from my dad explaining that he had a meeting he was required to attend and he wouldn’t be home for dinner. I sighed and erased the message, then put the chicken I had decided on back in the fridge. I wasn’t going to fix a large meal just for me.

I looked at the contents of the fridge again and decided that none of the leftovers looked appetizing. Looking again, I pulled out the egg carton, deciding to make scrambled eggs. A few moments later, I was sitting down at the table with my dinner and my new book. I flipped through it as I ate, randomly translating passages. My Shakespearean English was a lot more current than my Latin since we were currently reading MacBeth in English class.

I found the love potions amusing, the calls to women even more so since I couldn’t imagine falling for a spell. As I moved into the second section, I realized that these spells weren’t the same flighty type from the first section. These were interesting. The first was a spell to bind a werewolf to the caster. It was the third one that caught my attention; the ability to call a character from a book. I pushed my plate aside and grabbed one of the notebooks that were kept in a pile on the counter. Scribbling frantically, I translated the spell into modern English. A few minutes later, I sat back and studied the list. I had most of the ingredients I needed, including the candles. Mom had been a practicing Wiccan and had bequeathed all of her supplies to me when she died. I hadn’t opened the chest since we moved but it sat against my wall in my room between the desk and my television stand.

Gathering up the book and the notebook, I hurried to my room. I hauled the chest out of the corner I had regulated it to and whispered the unlock spell. Reaching inside, I began to pull out the materials I would need. I decided to use new candles rather than already burned ones and I fished out the box that held them. Carefully I unwrapped and laid out the colors I would need and set the holders next to them. Each candle had its own holder, depending on where in the pentagram it was to be set. I pulled out the salt, sage, lavender, and the abalone smudging bowl I would also need, then closed the chest and relocked it. Lastly I went over to my shelves and pulled off my favorite vampire book, A Bite in the Dark by Darkin Reynolds.

I set the book in what would be the middle of my pentagram and added the smudging bowl, sage, and lavender. Then I began to walk the pentagram with the salt, careful to walk on the outsides of the line and not cross it. When it was completely done, except for the last line needed to close it, I set the container down, and began to place the candles. The orange one was set at the top, and then clockwise from there, I set up the pink, red, white, and cranberry ones. I walked around it again, this time lighting the candles with the lighter I kept in my pocket. It was the silver one my mother had given me on my sixteenth birthday for use in our rituals. Now that the outside preparations were complete, I stepped through the open side of the pentagram, and sealed the last of it. Using my lighter again, I lit the smudge sticks and laid them in the bowl. The scent would settle my mind for the spell.

I opened the book to my favorite part, the description of the hero, Bryce James. I reread the words to myself, imagining him in my head. He was in his twenties, not that much older than me and from New York City, a place I greatly missed. In his first scene, he was fighting off a group of vampires, a cocky smile on his face and his light brown hair pleasingly mussed. I closed my eyes for a minute, picturing him from the description. A long lanky body corded with muscles encased in jeans and a t-shirt.

Setting the book down, I picked up the notebook and calmly recited the words I had translated. The words rolled off my tongue, strongly confident as I pictured my mother sitting beside me in the pentagram as she had so often done. I finished the words, the clear tones ringing in the silent room, and waited.

* * * * *

When nothing happened right away, I had the bad feeling it hadn’t worked. Mom had explained to me that sometimes even if the caster had faith and belief in her heart, the spell still wasn’t written down just right or hadn’t even worked in the first place. I had just about given up and was reaching out to erase part of the pentagram, breaking the spell, when a light suddenly blinded me.

I blinked frantically, trying to clear my eye-sight, but couldn’t erase the spots in front of my eyes. A low masculine chuckle sounded and I spun in place, trying to locate the source. Then a voice began talking, “What a pretty little human. So nice of you to free me from that book before that little boy killed me. And to gift yourself to me.”

I finally cleared my eyes and looked with revulsion at the thing standing outside the pentagram. It was not the hunter I had called but the vampire he killed in the last chapter of the book. Frantically I scrambled to find the book I had gotten the spell from to cast him back into the book. My notebook lay beside me but the spell book had vanished. With dawning horror, I realized that I had not purchased a spell book like the ones my mother gave me but a grimoire, an evil witch’s personal book. “Begone, Stephen Veerington,” I commanded, hoping just the power of my voice and my pentagram would be enough to banish him.

He laughed again and this time, I could physically feel the evil in his laugh, and took a step towards me. Another light flashed, but didn’t blind me this time, although it blocked my view of the vampire for a moment. A blood-curdling scream sounded and when the barrier fell, he was gone.

* * * * *

Frantically I cast a protection spell that I remembered from my mother’s lessons. Then I quickly broke the pentagram lines and cleaned up all evidence of my spell casting. My father would not be happy to find out I had been casting. He didn’t like to be reminded of what we had lost.

I knew I would have to track the vampire down and either banish him back to the book or kill him, but my protection spell wouldn’t work outside of the house. Since I hadn’t been set up to cast a protection spell that would move with me, I knew I would be at the vampire’s mercy the moment I stepped outside. Nighttime was not the best choice for a hunt. I would do better to sleep for the night and then begin to hunt him down in the morning. I would also need the other chest my mother had left me. That was currently in the basement and would have to wait until my father went into the office for his half-day on Saturday before I could retrieve it.

As I heard the car pull into the driveway, I scrambled into my flannel pants and a t-shirt, before double-checking to be sure all evidence of my casting had been cleaned up.

* * * * *

I lay in bed the next morning, listening to my dad move around the house. He only had to put in a half-day today but wouldn’t necessarily expect me to be home when he returned. I knew I’d have to return by midnight but, I rolled over to look at the clock, he would be gone by seven-thirty and I would have most of the day to find information and hopefully get rid of the vampire.

As soon as I heard the car leave the driveway, I threw off my blankets and reached for the closest clean clothes. Within seconds, I was dressed in jeans and a clean t-shirt and lacing up my hiking boots. Although I would normally wear sneakers, I felt the need for the sturdier soles and heavier footwear.

I all but stamped down the basement stairs, anxious to get the materials I needed and get moving. I knew he would have gone to ground during the day, but I feared what he had done in the darkness as I slept safely under my protection spell.

I searched quickly, worrying that my father had thrown out the box when I wasn’t looking. Finally I found it, tucked behind some other boxes that were labeled with my mother’s name. I paused, wanting badly to cut them open, and examine the contents, but knowing I needed to find the specific box first. I pushed and pulled until I had cleared a space to the box, then pulled my Swiss Army knife out of my pocket. Flipping open the blade, I quickly cut through the tape.

Inside the box, I found what I was looking for. Stakes, dried garlic, and two pendants on chains. One was a Celtic cross my mom had picked up on a trip to Ireland long before I was born. The other was a pentagram that had been commissioned on the day I was conceived and cast on the day I was born. It was supposed to come to me on my eighteenth birthday but Mom had died before she could see that through. Although I wasn’t quite eighteen yet, I felt she would forgive me for taking it early. I slipped both chains over my head and let the pendants fall where they willed.

I pulled a couple of cloves off the bunch and tucked them into my bra. Then I stuffed two bunches into my jeans’ pockets. I looked at the stakes in the box. Most were shorter than my forearm and I picked up two of those and the sheaths that they would rest in. I paused once upstairs to grab a sweatshirt, fix both the sheaths to my arms, and load them.
I figured my best place to start was at the store where I had purchased the book. I stuffed my wallet in my back pocket and took off towards the downtown area.

When I reached the area, I was surprised at how different it looked in the bright light of the morning. Although the buildings still looked rundown, they seemed to have a new life. I scanned the road, looking for the new brightly painted signs from the store. Frowning after a moment, I realized I could no longer see the sign that had drawn me in yesterday.

I looked around again and realized that none of the shops were open this morning. Oddly enough, the door to the pizza parlor stood open, and I could hear the opening bars of “Born to be Wild” by Steppenwolf pouring out of it. Figuring it was worth a try, I crossed the street and entered the restaurant.

There was only one person inside, his back to me, as he moved with the beat of the music. I watched for a moment, wondering why he seemed so familiar to me. As he spun around, I realized that he looked very similar to the picture on the cover of my book. With a few minor changes, no goatee for one, and a slighter build than the character, he was a dead ringer for Bryce James. I gasped as he caught sight of me.

Without taking his eyes off me, he reached over and flipped off the radio. In the sudden silence that followed, I could hear myself breathing. “Can I help you?” he asked, setting aside the broom in his hands.

I shook my head, trying to snap myself out of my amazement. “Yeah, well I hope so. I walk down this street after school everyday and yesterday I stopped at a shop across the street from you. Today when I came back to browse in the store again, it seems to have vanished.”

As I spoke, he moved around me, and closed the door, then drew down the shades, blocking the windows. He flipped a switch on and lights brightened the gloom, then went over to one of the tables and took down two chairs. “Have a seat,” he invited me. Then he went behind the counter, ducked under, and reappeared a moment later with two bottles of water. He joined me at the table and handed me one of the bottles. “Still sealed so you know I’m not trying to drug you.”

“Is that a common fear around here?” I asked as I checked the seal and then opened the bottle.

He shrugged. “Just didn’t want you to blame what I tell you on drugs. I’m Bryce Johnston by the way.” I tried not to stare when he said his name. It was so close to the character’s name.

“Kady Sullivan,” I answered in return. “What do you mean what you’re about to tell me?”

“You purchased something at Tophat yesterday?” he asked instead of answering my question. I nodded but didn’t say anything. “Yeah it always reappears at this time of year. The owner was a Pagan, not a Wiccan, but something else. Da never really figured out what he was. About six years ago, the place burned to the ground. Strangely enough the next year, it reappeared on the date it had burned. No one around here was willing to go into it, but like clockwork, it reappears every year on the same date. Yesterday was that day. You’re the first person to buy something from that store in six years. What did you buy?”

“A book.”

He groaned. “A spell book? And you cast a spell from it?”

I nodded. “My mother was Wiccan and I often cast spells with her before she died. I purchased the book and didn’t think anything of casting something from it. I guess I should have translated the title instead of the spells first.”

“What was the title? Do you remember?”

“Maleficus Alica Libri,” I answered, stumbling a little over the pronunciation.

He groaned again, then got up from the table and hurried into the back room. I sipped the water as I waited for him to return. He was rather accepting of my story, but then again his was even stranger. I wasn’t sure if I should believe him about the store appearing and disappearing but then I remembered looking for the store. I got up and went to the window, pulling aside the shade Bryce had pulled down. Looking across the street, I could clearly see the area where the building had been the day before. Now I took a good look at the area. Although it there had been six years since the fire, I could still see the marks of the fire. The signs were unmistakable although weeds and grasses had begun to repopulate the destroyed building.

I turned as I heard footsteps behind me. Bryce was returning from the back room, his arms laden with supplies. I spied salt, candles, and a bowl as he dumped everything on the table. “What spell did you cast?” he asked as he began to sort things out.

“The one to call a character from a book.”

“You remember which book you used?”

I nodded and crossed the room, reaching out to help him set things straight on the table. “A Bite in the Dark by Darkin Reynolds,” I answered.

“What character got pulled out?”

“You know the book?” I questioned.

He nodded. “Yeah I’ve read it. I’ve got a photographic memory so name the character and I’ll know which one you mean.”

“Stephen Veerington,” I answered quietly.

He looked up. “I take it you weren’t aiming for him?”

I shook my head. “No.” I felt my face burn as I blushed. “I was calling Bryce James.”

He grinned. “Yeah, Mom was pretty close on picturing me at twenty-two. She had a cop friend age a picture of me. I’d forgotten about that.”

“Wait. You’re mother is Darkin Reynolds?”

He nodded, finishing putting the candles into their holders. “She was. Darkin Reynolds was her pen name. She died of cancer when I was ten. That was the last book she wrote. I’ve still got the manuscript in my room.”

I shook my head. “Wow. You’ve got to tell me about that when we’re done.”

“Deal but let’s stuff Stephen back in the book first. I don’t want to talk about her with him wandering around.”

I nodded. “What do you want me to do?”

“Help me move the tables out of the way and then we’ll lay the pentagram down.”

“I really appreciate you helping me,” I said as I helped him drag the tables out of the way.

He shrugged it off. “I wouldn’t leave Stephen running around to terrorize this town. Mom was already fighting the cancer when she started that book and she poured a lot of her anger against it into the book. I suspect he’s one of the evilest vampires ever created.”

“Do you think he killed someone last night?”

He signed. “I would assume so but I haven’t watched the news this morning. Hopefully he just fed and didn’t kill anyone.”

The area cleared, Bryce began to draw the pentagram as I put the candles in the correct places. I was surprised to see the colors he had chosen. Instead of the colors I had used, he had picked black, white, green, blue, and purple. I finished setting the candles at the points he indicated and lit them before stepping inside the pentagram. “What do I do?” I asked.

“First you need to call him. Then together we can banish him back to the book.”

I nodded. “Any particular spell you want me to use?”

“You know the calling evil spell?” he asked.

I nodded. “Not one I’ve ever cast before but I know it.”

He sealed the last side of the pentagram and nodded to me. “Cast it.”

I took a deep breath and recited, “Stephen Veerington come to me. See me as you were meant to be seen. Appear before me without harm. As I will, so mote it be.” I could feel the power leave me as it went in search of the being I called and I held my breath waiting for it to work.

Much sooner than I expected the air began to vibrate. A moment later, the vampire appeared before us. He glared at us but we were protected within the pentagram. He snarled as he saw who stood within the protection. “You! You’re not supposed to be here,” he growled at Bryce.

“Look again, vampire,” Bryce said. “I’m not Bryce James, but I am the person he was based on. And you are going back into the book where you belong.”

“You can’t send me back. You weren’t the one that released me.”

Bryce shook his head. “You’re wrong there. I have the person who released you here with me and protected. I also have a connection to you since your killer was based on me.” Bryce handed me a slip of paper and I glanced down at it. A spell had been scribbled on it. “Say it with me,” he whispered.

I studied it quickly, then nodded to him. I was ready.

Bryce took my hand as we stared at the vampire who was pacing angrily around the pentagram. “Being of evil summoned hence. Return to at once from whence you came. Return and be called no more. As I will, so mote it be.”

I stared, unable to take my eyes away as Stephen began to waver. He screamed piercingly as he began to melt from the bottom up. When he had melted down to his knees, he suddenly burst into flames. I threw up my arm to protect my eyes from the flames. Just as quickly as they appeared, the flames vanished, leaving just a scorch mark on the floor.

Bryce groaned as he looked at the spot. “I have a very bad idea that is going to be a bitch to get out. Dad’s going to kill me.”

I took his hand and pulled him around to look at me, careful not to break the pentagram lines. “Is he gone?”

He nodded and scuffed out the final line of the pentagram. “He’s gone. The town will be safe again. Do me a favor though and don’t go into Tophat again? I really don’t want to do this again next year.”

I nodded. “How about I help you clean that spot and you tell me about your mom?”

“Only if you tell me about yours,” he requested in return.

“Deal.”

We shared a brief smile before falling to the task of cleaning up the remnants of our spells.


Special thanks to:
         Tirzah Says Go Away for part of Stephen’s last name, the name of the “magic” shop, and the types of stores that were in the rundown neighborhood.
         Davy Kraken for the end of Stephen’s last name (see: I used “something that ends with ‘ington’”!)
         for the title of the book Kady uses by Demon Squirrel of Doom!
          and lastly to Genesisemo got married , who when I told her I needed an evil male vampire’s name, responded immediately with “Stephen!”

Latin words are from: http://www.tranexp.com:2000/InterTran?url=http%3A%2F%2F&type=text&text=evil...

Maleficus Alica Libri means: Evil Vampire Book—yeah I know, really original, but it looked cool in Latin.

Author’s Disclaimer for witchcraft: I have very little knowledge of how “spells” actually work. I made up the spells, the use of the candles in this, and the ability to draw out the vampire. It is total fiction. The properties of the candles are true though and are from: http://witchcraft-supplies.com/Candles1.html

COLORS AND CANDLES
BLACK Absorption & destruction of negative energy
CRANBERRYRED Love, passion, energy, enthusiasm, courage
ORANGE Strength, authority, attraction, success, joy
YELLOW Clairvoyance, learning, mind, communication
GREEN Healing, money, prosperity, luck, fertility
PINK Emotional love, friendships, affection, harmony
GREEN Emotional healing and protection, calming
RED Self love, enhancing relationships
BLUE Healing, meditation, tranquility, forgiveness
PURPLE Spirituality, wisdom, psychic awareness
WHITE Protection, peace, purity, truth