Chapter 15 How to Kill Your Maker
It was their first night back from New Orleans. Samuel liked living with humans. Here, in Sookie’s farmhouse, he felt alive and connected to the universe.
There was still sorrow throughout the house. He could feel that, also. Samuel could hear weeping from Molly on occasion as she and Eric would sit on the couch and talk about Godric. There were so many things that she did not know about him that Eric shared. And the life that Godric had shared with Molly, gladly she shared with Eric. Their stories of Godric filled their hearts and eased their sense of loss.
For the rest of Eric’s band of brothers, there was not much they could do. Samuel had nodded yes when Vlad had suggested golf. Samuel had motioned with a nod of his head toward Pamela. She was shaken by this as well, as much as she tried not to show it. They quietly slipped outside and left the rest of the house to remember and grieve.
With no one about, Samuel would take out his phone and watch the video. When did he show this to Eric? He had thought perhaps, tonight. But then Compton, like the coarse, ill mannered, cocksucking bore that he was had shown up back from the dead as a ghost at the wrong time. Fortunately, Bill had made a fine golf tee but the sun up was coming and everyone was back inside, smiling gently and telling small stories.
Oh what to do?
Samuel was in a quandary. Normally, he knew exactly what his task was to accomplish. He was leaning against the wall in the kitchen, his phone in his hand, as he felt the tears fall from his own eyes. The love Godric had for his children. And for Sookie and the small daughter yet to come. Godic had sacrificed himself to save them from this monster. And that monster was still out there. Waitng…
“Samuel, Eric is asking for you,” Ian said as he came out into the kitchen. Samuel handed him the phone and Ian hit PLAY.
“Oh sweet Jesus…” Ian murmured, crossing himself. “That’s Act?”
“Yes,” Samuel said, wiping his eyes.
“Does he look like Eric, do you think?”
“Yes,” Samuel wiped at his eyes, again. “Godric turned a child to love that reminded his physically of his father. His father could not accept his love, but Eric could.”
“Oh sweet Jesus,” Ian mumbled again.
Cedric stuck his head in. “What?” he asked.
Ian passed him the phone and hit PLAY.
“Mother of God,” the Irish lad crossed himself several times. “What a horrible monster!”
“Anything else?” Ian asked.
“Yes, he fucking looks like Eric! Not identical but fucking close…tall, blond, those Nordic sky blue eyes. Same exact color. You can see where Eric is blood born if this is the ungodly creature that started this business.”
“Are you going to show Eric?” Ian asked.
“Of course,” Samuel countered. “I thought tonight…but no. When he is better. Right now, he and Molly are in the midst of their sorrow. It will take its toll and we have time as long as we don’t go traveling about. They shall grow stronger and be lighter in heart and then we shall ask them if they wish to see it.”
“See what?” Eric said sticking his head in, “and do you want me to heat you a blood? I am getting one for Molly.
What?” Eric asked again, his eyes taking in all and missing nothing about the countenance of his three friends. “Fucking tell me…” he hissed. “I cannot help you if you don’t…”
“Godric sent me his final moments…” Samuel’s voice trailed off.
Eric held out his hand.
Handing him the phone, Eric closed his eyes and held it delicately as he ran his finger across the screen.
“You don’t have to now, Eric…” Samuel began.
“Yes,” he nodded. “Yes I do…”
Eric was sitting on the floor, with Sookie wrapped around him. His eyes glued to the small screen, as tears left their bloody tracks on his face as he kept hitting the play button each time it ended.
“Molly needs to see this,” he sighed and wiped his eyes. “She needs to sit here with us,” he said to Sookie as Samuel went in search of the sister that shared Eric’s grief.
The small family sat huddled, watching the video until it was time for sunrise.
“I look like Act,” Eric said as he handed the phone back to Samuel.
“Yes,” Sookie nodded in agreement. “Godric wanted to be loved by his father and to love his father. That being said, he just wanted someone to love.”
“What a fucking monster,” Eric shook all over. “That my maker had to endure that piece of lower than were shit…” he hissed.
“Eric,” Sookie smiled at him and kissed him lightly on the nose. “He had you to love. And,” she smiled. “He looked like his mom. Clearly, he loved her and she loved him.”
“So,” Molly had her head resting on Eric’s other shoulder. “Who did Act sell him to?”
Sookie shrugged. “I mean, Godric had some type of powers, right? Why did he just not walk away?”
“Maybe Act made his promise not to,” Samuel offered. “Or maybe he sold him to other demons. Those like himself, the fallen, and they would be more powerful than any child they produced.”
“Oh shit,” Sookie breathed out. “Demons? Samuel, really?”
“Yes, King Solomon bound demons to him and made them build his palace and other fanciful places that he saw in his heart. His many great building projects, they were produced with demon strength and gold.”
“Oh shit,” Sookie’s voice was low. “Really?”
“Yes,” Samuel nodded.
“Well just oh shit,” she was shaking her head. “Demons. I have a book around here somewhere. It’s called Welcome to Morning by Carroll E. Stewart. About how a nice, well you know, sorta nice, Jewish girl deals with demons. Time to study up.”
For the next several days there were maps laid out everywhere. “There was no indication of where Godric was in the video,” Eric said with a sigh. “I wish there was something…any clue, anything at all.”
“Eric,” Sookie sat down on his lap. “Godric knew how this was going to end. He prepared for it,” her voice was soft and gentle. “He wanted you to be aware. To be prepared just in case. No way did he want you to go physically looking for this asshole. And I am sure Godric would have commanded you not to do so but then you would have rounded up your friends and sent them in after Act instead. And they would all be finally dead.” They both sat quietly, listening. Everyone else was in the living room watching a Buffy marathon. There were a lot of catcalls and other rude and obscene noises along with a lot of advice.
“Now, we all have a chance. Besides, I keep dreaming of Godric. Isn’t that odd?”
“Dreaming what?” Eric asked.
“I don’t know. I am so use to having my shields up…even in my dreams I guess. It is springtime outside. We are walking past the flowers that are pushing up and folks are out cleaning their flower beds and then we are having something to drink at Starbucks and he reaches over to pay the bill and I realize he is having a Pumpkin Spice Latte and it is not even fall, yet.”
“Fall,” Eric’s gaze held hers.
“Yes, you know, autumn. That drink only comes around then and leaves around the New Year.”
“All Hallow’s Eve is coming,” Eric picked up a map. “Here, outside of Taos, here in the mountains, there is a town called Autumn New Mexico.”
Sookie looked where Eric pointed. “It says here Autumn New Mexico. So, if you lived there your mailing address would be Autumn New Mexico, New Mexico. That’s just weird,” Sookie was shaking her head. “Why would you include the name of your state in your town? That’s just…” she shrugged.
“Absurd?” Eric finished for her
“Yes,” she nodded.
“An old one is responsible for that. Because even during my time, you included the name of your city or village or country, in your title.” Eric took out his phone and was doing a Google search. “And look, they say they have the largest pumpkin celebration in the U.S.”
“And that means something?” she asked.
“Godric loved All Hallow’s Eve…Samhain…Not as you know it, but when he first turned me, in the fall…Solstice…” Eric smiled. “I mean, unnaturally so. And we would carve all manner of melons and gourds. Unnaturally so.”
“Well, that is certainly not something Act would do, would he?” she asked.
“No, but Godric took after his mother. I think it is something she would do and he would embrace.”
“Yes,” she smiled, “and since she did it, he would have loved it,” Sookie finished for him.
“Yes,” Eric was thoughtful. “Well, maybe a small vacation to New Mexico. And if Act is not there, we shall admire the pumpkins.”
“And if he is there?” Sookie asked.
“Flame on…” Eric smiled as his eyes held the blue lightning.
The boys were having one last blood before retiring for the night. When Eric told them what they had discovered, Vlad snorted. “Autumn New Mexico, New Mexico,” he rolled his eyes. “The sure sign of an old one. My maker was the world’s worst at that shit. He had no idea how it aged him in both his manner and speech. You have got to keep up and assimilate.”
All the other vampires were nodding in agreement.
“What happened to your maker, Vlad if you don’t mind me asking?” Sookie’s voice was very respectful.
“Eric brought him the true death,” Vlad said with a grin.
“Ours as well,” Cedric and Ian said together.
Sookie eyed Siggy.
“Well, you know he did,” the large vampire stated, stroking Flea-Butt. “And tis most right and fitting that now he shall end Godric’s maker as well.”
“It’s a bit different,” Sookie responded.
“Not really,” Siggy replied. “True Death at the hand of The Viking is The True Death.”
“Hear hear!” the boys shouted and raising their bag of blood, finished it off and went to dig under the porch for the night.
It was a bit cooler, tonight. Rainy. Bill was sitting out on his porch, moving from spot to spot as it leaked on him. Daylight was comin’ on and the heat would be risin’. Nothin’ he could do about that. Or say about…or influence it in any way. He had thought maybe that as a ghost, he could cause things to happen. On the TV, those ghosts, well, lights would flicker, humans were dragged away and abused. Screams and shrieks pierced the night. TV, he decided, was just a bunch of lies and sucked the big one. Because now he was here and he was stuck sucking the big one! In the back of that trash truck, he had options. Here, he had no options. Just continue to live by the vampire rules and he did not even have a vampire’s body. “I was tricked and betrayed,” he shook his fist at the heavens. There was a loud crash of lightning that struck a nearby tree that caused all of the hairs to stand up on his body. The flash was followed by a roll of thunder and after being shook to death, things sorta settled out and then this book fell on top of his head that caused him to yelp and that raised a knot and then landed in his lap, spine up, crushing his balls. Stifling a scream of pain, he muttered obscenities as he picked it up.
The cover said it was THE BOOK OF ADDITIONAL DUTIES. Written and Illustrated by Gaberial: ArchAngel—First & Oldest in the Order of the Angelic and the last thing your godless eyes will see before cast into Hell.
Just one unfair threat after another…was it ever going to stop? There was a thing in his house. Now there was this book…! And to top it all off, the heat and the humidity were building.
Bill began to sob. “How is this fair? As vampire I was a cool and constant comfortable dead. I hate that all over damp feelin’ that humidity brings. I hate living in the South. I hate being fresh dead in Hell and now being a ghost back on Earth. This is so unfair! Because of the damp, I am back to feeling and looking like shit!”
A hole opened up on his porch and shit poured down on him. The horrible black sludge that he had swum through to be birthed into this horrible new existence once more claimed him for its own.
“No time to bathe, sun is comin’ up,” he sobbed as he longed for the hand pump in the back of the house. “Daddy, you cheap bastard,” he moaned, “was there a reason you could not have run that pipe five more feet and put it in the kitchen? You cocksucking cheap bastard,” he hissed as he made his way into the house.
Eyeing the thing at the top of the stairs, he stepped inside.
“Shitty bits,” it said as it snorted and then coughed up sludge phlegm that was spit at Bill . “Sleepin’ in dirt, takes it on outs,” as the scary monster took another step down.
“This is my home,” he shook his fist at the thing with big teeth and red eyes. “I can sleep where I want. Who invited you into my home?”
“Likes you toasteds, better, child,” she slurped as her tongue fell out of her mouth and started to slither toward him.
“Lorena?” his voice quaked.
“Me bes maker Mistress Bee-u-teefuls Lorena to you shitty bits.”
“What? When?” Bill stuttered.
“Fuckings Viking and his fastness,” she sighed. “True deaths with his hands rippin’s my heads from my still standing bodies. And then the sludge pits and then here I ams…admirings your toast’d bits the best. Shitty bits reminds me of the pits. Sleep it outsides.”
“Well hell,” Bill snarled, slammed the front door and then slithered under his front porch and dug in. “Not even king in my own castle,” he cried out, as he covered up and the sun rose.
Things are progressing along nicely.
Still working the dragon story.
I wrote this chapter before bedtime last night for a change of pace. I needed to whack on someone and Compton was available. I am still looking at the 8th before I venture back this way, again.
You know I have no shame. I did indeed pimp my next novel, Welcome to Morning. Should be out this summer and free for a couple of days to all you lovelies who come this way. I’ll let you know the dates.
As always, thanks for reading!