Ella the Vampire by Barton Paul Levenson
Copyright 2008 Lyrical Press, Inc.

  • Ella the Vampire
  • Barton Paul Levenson


    • A section of the stone wall to her right slid open, the stones grinding against each other. Six male servants came in bearing a seventh, a female, holding her by the arms and legs. All seven of the servants were naked. Like the rest of the servants, the woman looked conventionally pretty, but she struck Ella as being older than the other servants, at least thirty, maybe forty years old. They let her down on the altar. She assumed a spread-eagle position and they took coils of rope out from under the table edge and tied her to the four iron posts.

    Oh, shit, now what are they gonna do to this poor bitch?

    Giancoli walked to a position beside the woman, between her right arm and right leg. "Marta Franchesca Anton, you do this of your own free will?"

    "I do," she said.

    "You realize the ceremony will result in your death, and your rebirth?"

    "I do."

    "You absolve us of any blame?"

    "I do."

    "Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait," Ella said. Everyone turned to look at her and Wolfgang King struck his forehead theatrically. Ella felt apprehensive but went on anyway. "You're gonna kill this woman?"

    "It's part of the ceremony," Giancoli said.

    "You just got through telling me how much you wanted to avoid killing humans. I got the impression you were against murder - all except for Miss California Bitch over there."

    Vanessa Chou let out a surprised squeak.

    Ella went on. "If you're so against killing humans, if you think it endangers you, why are you suddenly gonna go against that and kill somebody?"

    Giancoli exhaled. "You don't understand. This isn't a murder. We have this woman's consent."

    "Doesn't she have relatives? People who will care if she dies?"

    "As it happens, she has no one who cares about her other than us, Miss Dunkirk."

    "It's okay," the woman on the altar assured her. "I'm gonna be reincarnated. In my next life I'll be a vampire."

    "Lady, I don't know what bullshit these con artists have been feeding you, but the chances of that happening are -"

    "Silence!" roared Wolfgang King. "Ella, you will stop interrupting the ceremony and you will take part in it, and stop embarrassing me."

    "You think you can make me?"

    A number of the vampires started toward her, but one of them stood where he was and said, "Wait, wait, wait, my friends, please. Wait just a moment, please."

    It was Jonathan Danvers, the tall, pale vampire from Providence, Rhode Island.

    "Miss Dunkirk, I think perhaps you are operating under a false impression. No doubt you identify with Miz Anton, and why should you not? She is a woman, like yourself, attractive, like yourself, and you, too, have been victimized in the past and undoubtedly see this as a replay of some such unfortunate incident in your own history. The urge to defend a victim is strong. But you must understand that what will take place tonight is not really a murder. The young lady has given us her consent. All legal details will be taken care of. We will not cause her undue pain. In any case, we only perform this ritual once every ten years. It is rare. The, ah, selected individual is operating out of her own free will and with her full consent. Surely you see that no one's rights are truly being violated? I know there is a great deal of strange imagery in these proceedings, and that not everyone has the same taste for this sort of ritual, though I myself rather enjoy a certain degree of ceremony. That is quite all right.

    We do not condemn you for having different tastes. But this is not a murder. It is a religious ceremony of great meaning and significance, and we hope you will cooperate with us, Miss Dunkirk. We truly do. Wholeheartedly and of your own free will. We will hurt the young lady as little as possible. It is really quite humane."

    Ella considered her position. There were twelve of them, one of her. Her only hope was to bluff, to act as if she had authority she didn't really possess. She walked to the altar, took a rope in two hands and snapped it, though it was an inch thick. She headed for another, but before she could get there the vampires mobbed her, grabbed her, and threw her down on the floor. She reacted instinctively, transformed into a mist, and flowed between them and out under the door. Once on the other side she became human again and ran.