When people start getting murdered, Jean must find out who this mysterious killer is!
| The rain beat hard upon the windshield of the car. The man inside squinted, looking for a clear view through the rain. Around here, everything was blurry.
Suddenly the man caught sight of a figure. "Strange," thought the man, "Why would anyone be out in the woods on a day like this?" He kept his eyes on the strange person, who remained unmoving. Finally it looked up.
It was this person's eyes that caught the man's attention. Were they red? The man just kept staring at him.
Suddenly the road veered off to the right, leaving the creepy person behind. The man sighed, thinking that he was having hallucinations. "Just what I need," he grumbled, and kept his eyes on the road.
"What's just what you need?"
The man stepped hard on the break. He did not have any passengers. Trembling, he looked back. Sitting in the back seat was his mystery man. "Wh-Who are you?" he asked, looking into his carjacker's eyes. So they were red.
"No one of consequence," the attacker said, smiling. "Not that you'll live long enough to find out." Before his victim could do a thing, the man opened his mouth, revealing two enlarged canines. The last thing the man in the car saw was a vampire lowering his teeth to his neck.
Following the murder of L. P. Franklin, the greatest collector in the world, a team of investigators set out to search for the murderer. Strangely enough there were no fingerprints on anything. The only evidence were two small punctures on the Mr. Franklin's neck, suggesting a bite.
Our team of investigators now closed in on the scene of the crime, taking pictures of everything. A man was waiting for them. "Hello!" he called, "I suppose you are the investigators?"
"And you would be?"
The man smiled. "No one of consequence."
In a small office in police headquarters, Josh Serrovik looked at the evidence cards repeatedly. It just didn't make sense, all these murders. Who was the attacker? Where did he come from. And most importantly, why was he doing this? None of the answers were to be found.
The door opened. Jean, Josh's secretary, came in and set his coffee down. Josh went to pick it up and bumped into the lamp. Cussing, he kicked it ferociously, causing it to fall and break.
Josh blinked. "Oh great. Could you open the door, Jean?"
"I would if I knew where it was!" she retorted.
Josh surveyed the room for any object that could lead to his detection of the door. His eyes fell on his desk. Something wasn't right.
Coming closer, he couldn't find anything different. "It must not be anything-" he started, but his voice fell short. One of the pictures of the man was different. His eyes were glowing. Red.
Suddenly Josh got the sense that he was being watched. With those red eyes starring up at him, Josh felt anxious and creeped. "Open the door now. Please open the door," he said in a shaky voice.
The door opened. Jean looked at her boss. "Josh, are you alright? You seem... scared." She knew that this was the last thing that he would admit to, but he definitely looked it.
"The pictures. Get the pictures. Bring them to a proffessional. Tell them to look at the pictures in the dark. Hurry," Josh said. He was on to something.
Jean took the pictures and walked out of the room. What an odd experience. "I wonder what he saw," she asked herself.
Suddenly there was a thunk in the room behind her. She turned around and looked in the spy hole. This is what she saw: A tall man was standing behind her boss, head down. He spoke, "I think you have something of mine," he said in a chillingly amused voice.
Josh turned around. "Honestly, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I think you do." The man looked up. Something flickered in Josh's mind. Red eyes.
Jean gasped as her boss fell to the ground. She ran down the hall as fast as she could. When she came to a cops' lounge, she all but dove in.
"Murderer...here...Josh's office..." she stammered, so out of breath that words did not come to her easily.
Some of the cops looked oddly at her. Others raced out of the room to Josh's office, guns drawn. When they returned, Jean had retold her story to the rest of the building, for they had come in once they heard the news. The cops gave her an odd look before saying, "Your murderer isn't here, lady. Yeah, Josh is dead, but no one was at the murder except for you."
"I know what I saw. I'll tell it a million times if you want, but it will never change. Now you tell me what I'm supposed to do about this. That guy bit Josh," Jean said, "He's a vampire."
The room laughed as if she had told a lame joke. Jean groaned and walked out of the room. Some help these people were.
She took her coat off the hook and headed out the door. Her car was waiting for her on the curb. Gloomily, she drove home. As the scenery became dark, she was increasingly scared. This guy could just--appear out of nowhere. Could he be watching her this very moment? However, the night wore on and she had been left alive by daytime.
The next day, Jean did not go to work. She got up and went to her computer, hoping to find some evidence of her sighting. Slowly, she typed "vampire" into the search engine. Millions of results filtered on to the screen. "Perfect," she muttered, "Now I'll be working 'til the end of time."
Jean clicked on the first entry. What she read made her believe her sighting more than anything. "Vampires have red eyes in the night. They have enlarged canines and live off of the blood of others," she read. But how to stop them? "The only way vampires can be stopped is by driving a steak into their heart." Oh perfect. Now she could be a murderer, too.
Jean found generally the same information on every website. Her eyelids began to droop. "Time for coffee," she stated, and went to the door.
The air felt good on her face after being indoors for so long. She closed the door and went down the steps of her appartment.
Suddenly a man rounded the corner, bumping into her. She was taken aback by his appearence. He was tall, with blond hair and the most wonderful eyes that she had ever seen. They were ever changing from blue to green, with small hints of a beautiful red-brown.
Finally Jean said, "I'm so sorry. Really, I wasn't thinking."
"No, it was my fault. You look tired. Let me buy you a coffee."
Jean smiled at him. Somehow he just made her fear go away instantly. "Sure. I'd like that."
The next few days were a mix between pleasurable and unhappy. On the one hand, she had started dating that man. His name happened to be strange, Zorie, and they hadn't even gone out to dinner, but what did she care? He was the man of her dreams. On the other hand, she needed to find the murderer.
One day Jean had an idea. She was taking a trip to L. P. Franklin Museum of Ancient Artifacts. What had the vampire so wanted that he killed L. P. Franklin?
Nothing looked like it should belong to a vampire. Everything was an every day item like a sundial. Jean scribbled on her pad: Museum - unsuccessful.
Back at home, she checked her phone. She had three messages. All of them were from Zorie. Jean pressed play. The familiar sweet tone of her boyfriend had turned urgent and scared. "Jean. I need you to come to the coffee shop soon. It's really urgent. I need to tell you something," his voice said over the speaker. That was all Jean needed to hear. She was at the coffee shop in a second.
Zorie was at the shop. He was sitting at a table, looking anxious. When Jean walked in, he came up to her and led her to the table.
"Jean, I'm not what you think. I haven't even told you my full name. It's Elzorath."
Jean was unfazed. So what if his name was Elzorath? "It's OK even though it does sound like something out of count drac..." she started, but her voice tapered off. What was more obvious than reading Count Dracula, the most famous vampire tale ever?
Elzorath looked at the clock. "Look, Jean, I had really better get going. Maybe someday we can go out to dinner?"
"Sure! Call me," Jean replied. "Odd," she thought. "He seemed really on edge."
During the following hours, Jean learned that Count Dracula was possibly the most boring book on Earth. She fought to keep her eyes open, yet going to sleep kept her wide awake. After a while of struggling on the book, Jean decided to take a walk.
The cool night air did a miracle for Jean. She walked downtown, past the museum. As she passed the building, however, her consciounce told her that something was not right. She went to investigate.
Frank Shanlan, the caretaker at the L. P. Franklin Museum, sighed happily. It was the end of a busy day. He took the papers off of his desk, put them in his briefcase, and prepared to leave.
He did not even make it to the door. A man came out from behind a collumn. He was tall with blond hair, and he had a cruel smile on his face. "Hello, Frank," he said casually.
Frank shrank back in horror. Who was this man? How did he know his name? He had heard of the killings that had been going on, and wished to be no part of it. It seems fate had decided otherwise. "What do you want?" asked Frank, gathering up his courage.
"I want the Illmarilis."
Frank turned pale. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said hurriedly. Then he noticed something odd about the man. He had red eyes. Frank backed away, looking for something. Finding a flashlight, he grabbed it and shined it right in the man's eyes, hoping to hurt his eyes.
The man did not so much as cringe. Something was different, though. His eyes were blue now.
The man hit the flashlight out of Frank's hands. "Who are you?" Frank asked.
The man muttered something like, "I'm getting bored of this line," and said, "No one of consequence."
Jean was puzzled and scared. The murders were starting up again. Through her fright, though, she had made some observations. Up close, the vampire had looked less old. In the light, he had blue eyes. Also, she could have sworn that he looked right at her. Why, then did he ignore her? Jean made a mental note to be on the lookout.
Jean took out her cell phone and called 911. A voice came up on the other end and said, "Please state your whereabouts and emergency, and we will be over as soon as possible." Carefully, she retold the murder scene, and was told to go home. The police could handle it from there.
Once home, Jean got tiredly in to bed. Thoughts of the vampire filled her mind. Would he come to her? Would this be her last day? Every time she relived that moment where he looked at her, she was sure that this would be the last night she would live.
The morning came, though. She got out of bed happily, thanking her lucky stars to still be alive. She went to the phone to call Zorie. She still called him that. She just could not get used to Elzorath.
"Hi, Zorie? I was wondering if you wanted to get together this morning....ten o'clock? Sounds good! Bye." Ten o'clock it was, then.
When ten rolled around, Jean was greatful. Her search for blood-suckers hadn't turned up anything much yet. She walked over to the coffee shop, making a mental decision to tell Zorie about the vampire.
Once in the shop, she sat down and waited for her partner, thinking. Who was that vampire? What was that Illmarilis thingy that he wanted? Nothing made sense.
"Jean?" Jean jumped. She had been so consumed by her thoughts that she had not noticed Zorie come sit down by her.
"Hi," she said.
After they got their coffee, Jean started telling him about the vampire. He turned pale. "I-uh... what do you think you should do?"
"Well, I was sort of hoping you would tell me."
Zorie had picked up a newspaper. He turned even more pale and put it down. "Look, Jean... I had a really good time, but I'm running late for an, uh, dentist appointment. I'll see you later."
Jean nodded. Something was definitely wrong with him, and she was going to find out. After Zorie was out of sight, she got in her car and went to the dentist. There was no record of anyone under Elzorath in their records. "Apparently he isn't having a dental problem," she thought grimly.
At home, Jean went to the computer. Maybe she could at least find out what the Illmarilis was. When she logged the word into the search, there was only one result: www.collect.com/franklin/info/illmar. She clicked it.
What she found out made her scared. The Illmarilis was a sundial-like artifact that was believed to give the holder one wish--if he could activate the it's power. The stories said that on black eve, a holiday believed to be created by the worshippers of the vampires, the holder of the Illmarilis needed to let the sun bounce off of it when it was exactly alligned above the holder. That would give the holder anything it wanted, from the smallest wish to world domination. Jean could only guess which one her vampire wanted. Quickly she searched for "Black Eve."
This search did not comfort her, either. She had exactly two days.
The next day, she forced herself to go to the police. However, not before she did some more studying up. All the facts she needed would be ready for the police. At about seven at night, she threw herself out the door, and made towards the police station. It was only a block away, so she decided to walk.
She stopped to look at the museum. It had been left untouched after the break in. Something was moving, however, and her temptation got the best of her.
Inside the museum, it was dark. The movement had come from the back, so she hid quietly behind a collum. This type of business gave her the chills, but she needed to know what the vampire was up to.
Suddenly she saw it. It came out from the back, and went up to the frontmost sundial. He did something, making the glass shatter. Carefully, he took the sundial, and turned around. Jean looked carefully at him, not wanting to believe what she saw. Zorie took the sundial and walked out of the museum.
Once he was out of earshot, Jean broke down and cried. She had been so stupid not to notice. He had tried to tell her all along. But why? He was normal during the day...But in the light he was normal. She rushed out of the building. No matter what, she would find Elzorath.
None of the people on the street looked like him. Where was he? "Elzorath..." she cried. He walked out of a corner. His eyes were less red, and he did not seem so evil, yet he was a vampire. "Why?" she cried, "Why did you lie to me? I loved you..."
Elzorath reached out to her and stroked her face. "And I love you," he said, "I'm a demon, Jean. I can't control it. Love never meant a thing to me until I met you."
"But why? What do you want with the Illmarilis?"
Elzorath took a breath. "What any vampire would want."
Jean could not help what she did next. Elzorath had lied to her. She stormed off into the distance.
The man known as Elzorath turned around, rejected. He walked slowly off into the distance. He would prepare for black eve.
Jean didn't care if Elzorath got his wish. Nothing mattered to her anymore. Her love was gone. He was a killer, a vampire.
The hours ticked away. Jean would not stop Elzorath. What did she care, anyway? He was just a distant, unwanted memory.
The next day, Jean felt the same. Empty. Her tears kept on coming, for no one was there to comfort her. She did not even eat. She did not want to. Her will to live was wasting away like her love.
Jean watched her clock. It was ten in the morning. In two hours, Elzorath would get "what any vampire would want." It would all be over. Jean even wanted that moment to come, for her pain to be over.
She watched the clock sadly, counting every hour, every minute, every second until Elzorath would be on top of the world.
Tick, tick, tick...The time seemed to pass too slowly. Finally only an hour remained.
Jean went to her bed. "My death bed," she thought grimly. It did not seem to bother her, the way everything sounded dark and scary. She waited, and waited, and waited. 11:30. Tick, tick...11:40. Tick, tick...11:50. Then it was time.
Jean did not feel any different. "He's the one changing, not me," she reminded herself sourly. She wished she could change, become a better person.
By sunset, the world had not changed. "Yet," Jean reminded herself. She knew it would, though.
There was a knock on her door. Jean went to answer it. She gasped.
Standing in front of her was the man she had never thought she would see again. Elzorath was standing in front of her, standing out in the night. But he was different. He looked human, like the Zorie she knew from a time that seemed so far away.
"But why?" she asked
"Maybe the thing any vampire would want is someone like you."