Treasure: a Vampire Novella | The Empty World Sequence

One

The wooden door was flung open. Two men in white robes, those of men who worked in the sun, squeezed through the doorway. The foremost carried a young woman, limp, in his arms. The noise of the room died at that moment, and then a scream was born on the warm air. The Innkeeper had her knuckle between her teeth, white. Her son, at the bar, let a jug of water fall on it as he stared at the dead girl.

There was a certain commotion as the girl was brought through the large plaster-walled room, up a stair, and into the Innkeeper's home. Guests rose from their seats; not simply for the fact a corpse had been processed through the dinning room. Variously they clutched at beads, wrung their hands, shook their fingers, and crossed themselves. The few who had rooms at the inn looked about in confusion as the locals rushed out the door in unison. Several men with European accents went to the landlady for an explanation.

One lone stranger, with wine dripping from his lips, watched, blinking only as necessary to moisten his eyeballs. They were colored dark green, his eyes, and his hair was red. He licked at his lips discreetly and looked at the door to the back rooms.

The landlady would not be comforted and took herself to her home. Much wailing and bemoaning were heard from within.

A man in a dark colored suit rose from a table near the far wall and announced that he was a doctor. He demanded to see the girl. Insisting nothing could be done for the dead, the young waiter grudgingly sent him into the back. This waiter then approached the stranger, whom was the only one remaining seated. He spoke: "Sir, it might be wise for you to retire to your room, wiser to leave this place."

They both turned their attention to the crowd pressing at the door for a moment. The man dropped his hands to the table, fingers absently groping at a napkin. His eyes were lowered still when the boy spoke again, "Sir you are English?"

The stranger looked up, startling the boy, with a sudden glance. "I came from...Scottish parents," he said and the waiter realized it was not the man's native tongue.

When the stranger fell into a familiar Arabic dialect the waiter almost forgot his caution. Looking at the bowl of wine he remembered.

Their eyes locked and it seemed some gold luster ringed the strange man's pupils. "We would not want to see you troubled by this business."

"It is no trouble to me. I will leave, as I have planed, when the week is up, I have been traveling for months and wish rest..." His gaze shifted to the multicolored window and the boy was left looking at his red hair.

"Sir, then you will want to retire now."

He seemed slow to answer.

"Yes. I will go up now," he said at length. "Tell me, friend, why so much fuss over me?" His eyes scanned the interior, the small disperse group of guests, gentlefolk from near and distant lands, come to Alexandria, perhaps for the very reason he had.

"Sir, in these, parts...well, it was not a natural sort of attack, and you are a foreigner, and red haired, the old ones see you as a bad omen. But, go now, I will bring fresh towels to your room."

The stranger rose. His eyes met the doctor's across the room, as the latter descended the small stair. "Boy, the girl...who was she?"

"The daughter of my mothers brother. And she was not the first to die."

The stranger nodded and then turned to collect his things: a black hooded cloak, a gray linen scarf, and a small velvet purse.

The waiter entered the back room and saw his cousin laid out on a bench, drawn, pale, almost waxen, and still as stone. His father and his uncle watched the windows. His mother wrung her hands. Again, the doctor came into the room. He closed the door after himself.