by Bob Gansler
# 10 - May 2001	Movements in the Dark

Night had fallen all across the width of the European continent. The sun had slipped below the horizon and darkness now shrouded the cities and towns of the Old World. The fearful, the superstitious, and (nowadays) the wise hustled to lock themselves indoors. While those in urban areas might feel a little braver with the preponderance of electric street lighting, those in rural areas were desperate to get inside. The night was no longer safer for the living, for those who were merely human; the night belonged to the undead, for those who were vampires.

The Mediterranean house that belonged to Lord Ruthven now stood empty. It had been the meeting place of a very select group. Ruthven had been one of those who pledged his allegiance to the First Lord of Vampires, the ancient Varnae. Joining Ruthven at this retreat had been the foppish Varney and the brutal Lajos. Their plannings had come to a close the previous night. Now the estate was littered with the bloodless corpses of Varney's former maidservants. Varnae had called for a feast to celebrate their impending campaign and Ruthven's servants had provided quite delectable fare.

Now Varnae, Ruthven, Lajos, and Varney were winging their way northwards towards Transylvanina. Accompanying them were many of the legions of undead who had likewise pledged their undead souls to Varnae. The vampire flock blocked out the stars as they made their way north, making the already fearful populace even more terrified. Each town wished that theirs would not be the place upon which this dark cloud descended.

They had only been in flight for about an hour when impulse suddenly seized Varnae. He changed course and dove towards the ground. The other vampires obediently followed his lead. When he reached the soft earth, he had already transformed into his hideous humanoid form. The others transformed in turn.

Varney approached the aged Atlantean deferentially. "Your orders, my Lord?"

"This town." Varnae growled. "Bleed it dry."

Looks of satisfaction and impending pleasure were exchanged among the many revenants. For many of the other older vampires, this would be the first large scale slaughter in far too long. For the younger undead, this would be their first taste of how things were in the old days.

Varnae lifted his grotesque arm and pointed it at the small village, at whose outskirts the vampires stood. "Let this town fill the night with its screams. Let the world know that Varnae has come to retake his throne, that Varnae can take whatever he desires."

The vampire troops switched back to bat-form and invaded the village. It did not take long before a chorus of wailing and screaming began rising into the air.

At Varnae's command, the hordes of vampires descended upon the city. The First Vampire and his lieutenants - Varney, Ruthven, and Lajos - remained behind while the invasion commenced.

"Will we not partake in the feast?" Varney asked deferentially.

"We shall feed after the simpletons have sacked the city," Varnae responded. "If they are smart enough to please their Lord, they will leave the tastiest fare for me … for us, I should say."

"As it most certainly should be," Lajos added.

"Quite." Ruthven's tone was tinged with some annoyance by the bootlicking ways of his comrades.

It was not too long before cries of terror and anguish erupted from the small village. These screams, though distant, were quite audible to the enhanced hearing of the four vampires. The noises of suffering were sweet sounds to them, feeding their hunger, whetting their appetite for inevitable satiation.

Varnae let the slaughter continue for about twenty minutes before turning to his underlings. "Come, let us see what delights these peasants have to offer." His shape contorted until he had assumed his bat form. The trio transformed as well and followed close behind.

A few miles from Castle Dracula, other forces were building, intent on seizing the legendary edifice and destroying the master. The leader of this contingent (a group smaller in size than Varnae's legions but formidable in its own right) hoped to achieve the conquest for reasons other than just power. She and the castle's master had a history of hate that stretched back centuries. Now she could almost taste the impending victory over her dreaded father Dracula. She was Lilith, Daughter of Darkness, self-proclaimed Queen of Vampires, and she was coming home.

At her side stood Carmilla. The cunning vampiress had become a staunch ally in this unholy crusade. In the months since the Bloodrise, the duo had cut a decidedly bloody path across Europe. Many innocents gave their blood to feed the pair's ravenous appetites. Some of the more promising ones were turned to become new recruits to the cause.

The forces that Lilith had gathered here in the forests slightly beyond the sinister shadows cast by Castle Dracula were small but extremely devoted. Those whom Lilith and Carmilla had brought across were devoutly committed to their mistresses. The others were those who had suffered under Dracula's previous rule as Lord of Vampires. They were more than willing to exact their own bit of revenge upon the Wallachian. Dracula probably could not remember half of the torment he had exacted upon their number, but they remembered all-too-well. As Lilith had proclaimed, the hour of reckoning was close at hand.

It was still a few more hours before sunrise. There was sufficient time to initiate an attack upon the castle, if they were to fly hard and true for the fortress. However, Lilith had decided against launching the offensive this night. Some of her troops had grumbled in frustration but she convinced them of their overeager folly.

"True," Lilith explained coolly, "we might descend upon Dracula tonight, but the night grows short. We would have to be confident that we could gain the inner sections before the hated sun rose above the horizon, else the night would bring upon you dissolution even more completely than Dracula's hosts could ever hope to. No, we shall pass the day here. When the sun dips again, then we shall fall upon Castle Dracula, and its master will fall before us."

With that, Lilith commanded her crusaders to begin constructing their abodes for the night. Graves were dug into the earth, one for each vampire. Since many of Lilith's legions were of the Old Country, the day's sleep in their native soil would bring them to the peak of their power. Some of the veteran foreigners had brought along some of their own native soil to line their grave-bed. They would likewise be empowered. Many of the newcomers to vampiredom had not taken such precautions. They would likely be the first to fall on the morrow. Then again, that was what Lilith had intended form them all along. Every crusade had to have its sacrificial lambs; these devotees were to be the fodder in this conflict.

While darkness reigned over Europe, here the sun was beginning to drop down below the horizon. Even though he could not see the solar orb, Blade could feel it in his bones. Once darkness fell, he knew that the bloodsuckers would resume their hunting ways. It also meant that he would resume his hunting … of them.

He did some last-second sharpening of his teak daggers. He always made sure that they were sharp enough for their intended job - slicing and dicing vampires before piercing them through the heart. It was a thankless job, but Blade had no compunctions about doing it. "And nobody does it better," he thought.

He slipped the daggers into the bandolier strapped under his leather jacket. When he was on vampire turf, he would bring the bandolier over his jacket, but when he was out among the general public, he kept it hidden underneath. The man on the street would not take kindly to the sight of a heavily armed man walking about; neither would the local law enforcement officers. Blade had encountered enough problems with the police back in London who knew about vampires. New York's Finest would consider him a lunatic and have him locked up.

"Hunting vamps back in Londontown," Blade mused. "Those were the days. I wonder what old Dai Thomas is up to these days. He's gotta be a lot happier now that I ain't staking bloodsuckers there."

Blade was ready to face the vampire-infested night. He looked forward to taking a long, hot shower once he got back. There was no doubt in his mind that he would return from his hunting. "A long hot shower and some of Bible John's tea," Blade thought. "Gotta remember to ask him some time what's in it. Then again, knowing John, maybe I don't wanna know."

Blade headed for one of the secret exits that connected the Chiaroscuro to the outside world. It seemed almost incomprehensible that this gigantic facility, which stretched over an entire square city block, existed behind the dilapidated walls outside.

"I'm heading out, John," Blade called out. "Don't leave a light on for me."

"Before you go," John called out from the kitchen. "You may want to take a look at this." Sounds from a television could be heard coming from the kitchen.

"I don't got time to watch anything on the boob tube, John," Blade argued. "There's vampires that got signs on them saying 'stake me here, Blade.' I gotta go."

"Blade, please," Bible John pleaded.

Blade sighed. Bible John could be so insufferable sometimes as well as being mysterious. Blade still did not know what the Cathari Order really was, and John was still being evasive about answering. "OK, I'm coming, but this better be good."

"Have you been to the movies lately, Blade?" Bible John asked as Blade entered the kitchen.

"Well, my nights are usually all booked up," Blade said snidely.

"There are matinees, smart-aleck," Bible John replied. "Now take a look at this commercial. I think you might find it somewhat familiar."

Blade sat back and clasped his hands behind his heads. "What? Did they come out with Star Wars Part Two already?"

"Just shut up and watch," Bible John pointed to the screen.

An advertisement for a local grocery store chain faded into black. The screen remained black for a few seconds. Then the commercial began.

The nights have never been safe. Techno-pop music reverberates. A screaming young woman runs screaming across the screen Now they are even more dangerous. Another screaming woman is running away, but constantly looking back. They have arrived. A number of pale, gaunt figures come over the top of a moonlit hill. They are legion. More creatures of similar appearance come over the top of the hill. They are vampires They all open their mouths, displaying the elongated canines. He was born in blood. A vampire, with a white beard and slicked back white hair, bites a young black woman, struggling in the pains of childbirth. He lived in a different world. A young black boy violently plays with some action figures while courtesans march their customers by. He was different. A black teenager, a body and a trumpet lying at his feet, tilts his head back and screams. He hunts them now. A black man, in a leather jacket and leather pants, sporting a close-shaven flattop hairdo and dark wraparound sunglasses, drives a stake through a vampire's heart. "How's that feel, bloodsucker?" he cries. Only one man can stand against the legions of vampires … That man is Bloodshadow. Bloodshadow draws a curved sword from behind his back and slices. Bloodshadow, starring Weston Fyfe, in theaters now!         

"What the freak!" Blade exclaimed as he shot to his feet.

"Hits a little close to home?" Bible John asked.

"Too close to home?" Blade was stomping all over the linoleum floor. "Too close to home? That's the 'Biography of Blade', 'cept the names have been changed to protect the guilty!"

"I guess you'll have to check the movie out," Bible John commented.

"Forget that! I wanna know more about it. I wanna know if this is just some cosmic coincidence or if somebody's telling my story up on the screen. Fire up that computer of yours and tell me what's the scoop." Blade pounded his fists on the table.

"All right, all right," Bible John said. "Lay off on the pounding. You're liable to break the table." He rose from his seat. "I'll surf and see what I can find. I'm sure I'll have lots of info once you get back."

Blade shook his head insistently. "Forget hunting tonight. I gotta know ASAP about this. There ain't many people that know my history, and most of them are dead. Jamal Afari, Lady Vanity and her gals, most of the Slayers - they're all dead."

{Jamal Afari's death was shown in Marvel Preview #9, Lady Vanity and her courtesans were killed in Marvel Preview #9, the deaths of the Slayers were reported in Tomb of Dracula #30}

"OK," Bible John motioned towards the next room. "I've got a computer in the study. Let's see what we can find."

After a half an hour's worth of websurfing, Bible John had printed out all of the information that he could find regarding the Bloodshadow motion picture. As soon as he printed a site, he moved on to the next one. Soon there was a pile of recycled paper for Blade and Bible John to read. They took notes from what they read. Once they completed their reading, they compared and compiled notes.

"So what we have here," Bible John said, "is a movie written, directed, and produced by some new female hotshot, Gloria Swanderson, in Hollywood. She secured her own financing and brought the film to the major studios for them to bid for the rights."

"What catches my eye," Blade noted, "is that these reports say that she did all the shooting at night."

"Well, it's a vampire movie," Bible John replied matter-of-factly. "Wouldn't most of the scenes be at night?"

"Yeah, but there's no need to do the indoor scenes at night as well." Blade shuffled through his papers. "You got a picture of her over there?"

"Just a second." Bible John rifled through his stack of papers. "Nope. Not one."

"This lady done any interviews for TV?" Blade asked.

"Nope. The fellow who's playing Bloodshadow, Weston Fyfe, is doing all sorts of appearances, but not Gloria."

Blade scratched the stubble on his chin. "You'd think somebody with such a great story would be showing up everywhere." He sorted through his papers. "You got a summary over there that reads like the one I got over here?"

"If yours says that Bloodshadow was the son of a prostitute who was bitten by a vampire named Preacher Summers as she was giving birth. That Bloodshadow grew up with a sensitivity to the presence of vampires and that he hunts them relentlessly."

Blade grimaced. "Yeah, that's what I got. 'Preacher Summers'. That sound a lot like Deacon Frost to you?"

Bible John nodded.

"And the guy's name, Bloodshadow. Not a whole lot of people know about the gang that I ran around with before me and Orgi Jones started the Slayers and went after vampires."

"What about this gang?" Bible John inquired.

"We were just some tough kids who liked trouble. We called ourselves the Bloodshadows," Blade replied.

"Whatever happened to the Bloodshadows?"

Blade started marching around. He clearly did not like talking about this period of his life. "We found some trouble. We broke into a house that was the lair of Lamia, you know, the 'High Priestess of Varnae'. She tore us to pieces. I was the only one who got out alive except … oh Lord, Glory."

{Blade and the Bloodshadows encounter Lamia in Blade: Vampire Hunter #6}

"Glory?"

How could he have forgotten about her? Blade slammed his hand against the wall. "Glory. She was my girl. Lamia turned her. Glory became a vampire, and she loved it. She probably could have killed me when I was recovering from the fight with Lamia, but she didn't. I thought I saw her some months back, but I figured I had to be wrong. She had to have been destroyed by the Montesi Formula, and I never figured she would be strong enough to make her way back."

"So this Gloria Swanderson is your old girl Glory?" Bible John said softly.

"I ain't sure, but I gotta find out. It fits, though. She sounds like a vamp, and she based the film on my life. I gotta find out." He reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet. "One problem, though. I ain't got the cash to get a flight to Sunny CA."

Bible John chuckled. "I figured the money you saved from your Borderline Investigations job had to run out sometime." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Platinum MasterCard. "Here, take this, compliments of the Cathari."

Blade graciously accepted the card. "Thanks, only I got no way to pay once the bill comes due. Maybe I gotta break out my horn and start playing in the Village."

Shaking his head, Bible John replied. "No need for that, unless you want to play there. It might be good for you to hang around real people once in a while instead of hanging out with me all the time here in the Chiaroscuro. But anyway, I'll take care of your bills. The Order may not have plenty of personnel anymore, but we have plenty of assets. Get over to La Guardia. I'll get some tickets for you on-line and I'll give you a call on what airline."

Blade was not good about being grateful. Not many people had ever done much for him lately. Sure, the girls at Lady Vanity's all acted like a mother to him, and Jamal was great until he got turned, but since then, Blade had pretty much been on his own. "Thanks again, man. Only one of these days, you gotta tell me more about the Cathari. If we're gonna continue this working relationship, you're gonna have to be square with me."

"Fair enough," Bible John responded. "Only not today. You have to get to California."

Inside of Castle Dracula, its master was surprisingly calm. That was not to say he was oblivious to the forces gathered against him. Rather, he was all-too-aware of what was transpiring in the lands which once were his feudal realm. He knew of Varnae's movements as well as the recent incursion of Lilith and her minions. The converging forces did not bring him fear. Could anything really bring fear into the undead heart of Dracula, the one-time Lord of Vampires?

The interior of the castle was bustling with activity. Dracula had granted his followers the rare privilege of dwelling inside of the grand estate. Many of them, even those who had served Dracula for years or even decades, had never been so invited. It was not an invitation Dracula had made out of a feeling of magnanimity; it was a call to war. The vampires who had flocked here were preparing the castle for siege and incursion. All of the undead community had known for some time that there was a struggle for the highest position of the hierarchy of the unliving. That struggle had now come to a head. Vampires could no longer hope to simply continue to exist by feeding on the living. Allegiances needed to be pledged, their undead souls entrusted to one who hoped to regain the throne he had held for centuries.

Dracula watched as his minions prepared the castle for war. He reveled in their devotion to his cause. For too long he had been without an army to command. Ever since his return to the physical plane, he had dreamed of commanding a host, as he had done in those far-off days as Voivode of Wallachia. The renewed struggle with Blade, the destruction of Bloodstorm, the confrontation with Lilith and King, the Bloodrise - none of the encounters had seen him in unquestioned command. Now that time was here again. These were his followers, this was his castle, this was his land. Soon the world would be his as well, or at least the rule over all its vampires.

The lands, the ancestral holdings of the Family Dracul, belonged to Dracula in more than just the legal sense. They also belonged to him in spirit. The sinister creatures of the forest were subject to his rule, to a degree undreamt of even by Varnae. The wolf, the bat, the rat - all belonged to him and served as his secret sentries. From them he knew that Varnae and Lilith were amassing their forces. Even if he had not had these hidden watchguards in place, he would have known his enemies' plans.

"This game requires the same skills of the game of nations," Dracula chuckled to himself. "Varnae lacks any subtlety and that sow of a daughter is consumed by her desire for vengeance. It will ever be Dracula who wins the night!"

NEXT ISSUE: It's a war on two fronts as Varnae and Lilith attack Castle Dracula. Meanwhile, Blade goes to Hollywood.