Beethoven - Scourge of Vampires [ONC 2022]

14

14

From the right hand tunnel, Bernhard saw more vampires approaching. Whether the Maestro had run into them and they had killed him, or they had allowed the nascent vampire to pass through their ranks, Bernhard couldn't surmise. He looked again towards the left. No vampires there. It seemed obvious that the creatures intended to herd him that way.

Even with overwhelming numbers, the vampires did not attack. He could, perhaps, kill one or two before they tore him apart. At most, three or four would fall to his trusty sabre, but he counted at least ten of the beasts, each hissing and taking deliberate steps towards him. He began to back away, down the left hand tunnel, before turning and taking off at a run.

He passed several open doorways along the tunnel, none with doors that he could slam closed and put his pursuers at a disadvantage. He didn't like the idea of placing himself in somewhere enclosed without any means of escape. So, he continued to run. And, as he did so, the funerary sounds of the pipe organ continued to grow in volume.

At one point, one of his pursuers came too close. He could feel the creature at his back. At a sudden stop and step to the side, the vampire misjudged its momentum, passing by Bernhard, its claws scraping against Bernhard's throat, drawing blood, and suffering for its eagerness. The blade of the sabre severed the head from the shoulders with a clean swipe and the vampire fell into dust. That raised nothing more than a hate-filled hiss from the other vampires, but confirmed that they were not there to attack him.

He didn't doubt that they would fight, were he to stand his ground, but they would not if he continued on to the destination they pushed him towards. He considered it. Stopping and trying to take a few more heads, but his only advantage lay in the fact they did not want him dead. Not yet. For now, he had reduced their ranks by one and one less enemy was never a bad thing.

It occurred to him that he did not need to run. He slowed and his pursuers slowed. He sped up and they kept pace with him. He saw no point in exhausting himself. It almost felt amusing that he had both complete control of the pursuit and, yet, none at all. They wanted him to go towards the sound of the music and, if Bernhard were to judge, that was where he would find the Vampire Lord.

With his eyes on the vampires behind him and the way ahead, Bernhard began to wonder about the Maestro. He couldn't believe the great man had spent so long on the verge of becoming a vampire. Years, he had said. The urge to drink the blood of humans must have made him suffer a great deal, yet Beethoven had endured. He had endured and fought the hunger and no-one could have known what he suffered.

Bernhard could only imagine how great the Maestro's will and sense of self must have been. That genius intellect of his set to one purpose; to remain human. There seemed no wonder that Beethoven had entered into a fallow period for his compositions. To fight against the unnatural urges of vampirism and to compose great works would have proven too much even for someone like the Maestro.

And now, the great man had either died or become one of these foul beasts. A mere shadow of the great composer. A waste. All for the love of someone torn from him. Even as Bernhard continued to run these thoughts through his mind, he saw the end of the tunnel approaching. An archway, through which he could hear the strains of the pipe organ.

He had expected to find a vast, cathedral-like space, and, in that, he was not disappointed. He had also expected to find the space filled with more of the vampire minions. Dozens, perhaps hundreds of them gathered within the hall, awaiting him, ready to give his life to their master. Instead, he found the room contained only two people. The Vampire Lord and the daughter of his excellency, from Salzburg.

The Vampire Lord appeared unconcerned with Bernhard's entrance into the vast hall, playing upon the keys of the pipe organ, his head thrown back, lost in the throes of the music he played. The girl almost looked as though she slept. Stood upright, her eyes closed, she swayed to the music, unaware of anything else. Upon her throat, Bernhard could see the tell-tale marks of a vampire's bite, two thin trails of blood falling from the wounds. He wondered if she had already fed. Already become a full vampire, but he saw no sign of blood upon her lips.