The Vampire Britiania

One of the things Allegheny Heights’ kids loved to do on cool autumn nights was to go and hang out in the cemetery. Their favorite wasn’t the big cemetery in the center of town. The one they liked to go to was outside of town. It was on the Pennsylvania historical site listing and because of that it was fenced in but the few stones that remained were visible through the fence. The gate itself was purchased from the estate of a mass-murderer and, outside of very few exceptions, the gate remains locked at all times.

The cemetery is old, older than the town itself. There are graves there with half rotten wooden grave markers with dates from the 1720’s. Others came from the revolution and the War of 1812. Unfortunately, the names of the dead have long since worn off from years of snow, rain and wind.

The kids found a way around the locked fence. The fence that surrounds the cemetery is always at ground level and the area around the cemetery is houses, yards and woods so the kids are free to do what they want and not be disturbed. They simply find a soft spot of ground in the woods next to the fence and then they dig down and simply crawl under the fence.

They have been doing it ever since the cemetery was found about seventy-five years ago. Most of the times they go in and look around, maybe have a few drinks and party into the late night. Others went in and used it as a place of contemplation and yet others used it as an outdoor bedroom where there were more babies created than there were bodies buried in the ground.

One day a group was digging just outside the fence. They dug for a good twenty- five minutes. The ground was soft and, for some reason, they decided to dig a lot deeper than they needed to get under the fence. There were a few rocks that they cleared away quickly and then they kept digging. Suddenly they heard a hollow sound and when they looked down they saw the wooden lid to a very old coffin. It was wet and rotten but it was still strong enough to hold one boy’s weight. Just as they started to talk about what they had found the wood crumbled and they were looking at a centuries old body.

“Look at that,” Frank Mancini said as he looked into the box. Then he looked out of the hole and saw that he was the only one who hadn’t crapped his pants and run home to hide under the bed.

After Frank pulled the pieces of wood from beneath his feet he finally saw the body. It was a young man. He looked like he was maybe twenty- five years or so. The boy figured that there was no way he was much more than that. He was dressed in a red army outfit. It was a little dirty but it wasn’t in bad shape. It was covered with gold and silver and he saw the last few threads of a red, white and blue flag. Frank thought a minute and put two and two together. A red outfit and red, white and blue cloth, he was looking at a British soldier…probably an officer. The thing was he noticed…the body was buried face down with a rock placed on its back.

“What in the hell is that,” Frank asked. It was like he was talking to the body. “Why would they do that to you? I have been to a lot of museums and never saw anything like that.” His confusion was easy to hear. “I wish I knew your name.”  He climbed out of the hole and sat on the side. “Well, my friend,” he said with a smile. “I think I am going to call you Benedict…you know like Benedict Arnold. You remember him don’t you?  ” Nah, maybe not,” he laughed as he got up, walked over to a tree and tied a red cloth around the lowest branch. With that he took the next half hour to fill in the hole making sure to make it look undisturbed. After all he didn’t want any of his so called friends to bring their parents, or worse the police, back and ruin Benedict…at least not until he was done with him.

Frank went home and went right to sleep. He didn’t tell his parents how his day was. That was rare for this thirteen year old boy. He usually bragged about everything and anything and usually showed his dad some new rock or something he had found on his wandering but tonight it was nothing…nothing at all.

He crawled under his blanket and another one he grabbed from the closet. They were pulled up around his neck and held tight but as warm as he was headed for a long night with dreams and nightmares which centered on Benedict and how he might have died. Each dream was very graphic and had increasing levels of violence so he was happy when the sun came up and the alarm let him know that he was going to have to go to school.

The boys asked him what happened after they left but Frank kept his mouth shut as to what he found but he knew that after school he was going to go back and see what else he could learn about Benedict and his grave.

The final bell rang and Frank and his group gathered onside the school. “No you aren’t going with me,” Frank yelled as the boys started hassling him about the grave. “You guys couldn’t handle it yesterday why would I think it will be any different now.” The boys begged and begged but Frank got increasingly angry until he just stormed off toward his house with the boys right on his tail…still asking, begging to go back with him. Ignoring them he went into his house and ate a snack…which took about an hour…and then, once the others were gone, he went back to the grave site and started digging.

The ground was wetter than it was the day before and it wasn’t the same color as the soil they dug up the day before. Frank didn’t notice but the surrounding ground was different too. It was newly disturbed to cover an area far beyond where they had dug earlier. That wasn’t the only thing he noticed. There was a large dog…a German shepherd if he was to guess right. It was lying dead about ten feet from where the hole was. It was torn apart and its blood covered the grass and leafs.

Frank looked a little closer at the dog and went back to where the hole was. He sat down and when he took his hand from the ground,  it was red and covered with blood that hadn’t clotted yet. “What the hell happened last night,” he asked. Then he thought there are some big hawks and eagles, as well as other animals that wandered through the woods. One of them must have attacked the dog and then took off before devouring the body. That thought both soothed and terrified the boy. What if it was still in the area and was coming back. He put the thought to the back of his mind. It wasn’t easy but he did it and then he went back to the grave.

He started digging and it wasn’t long before he had dug down to the wooden lid. The body was there just the same as it was the night before. He started digging on the sides and ends of the hole. He was going to make it big enough to see the entire body.

Once he got the body uncovered he was sure that it was indeed a British soldier from the Revolution. He had his gun and sword buried with him. His class was studying the Revolution and their book had plenty of pictures so it wasn’t a guess any longer…he knew what he was looking at.

Building up his courage he reached down and slowly and carefully turned the body over. It was very well preserved. There was not a bit of decomposition either in the clothes or the flesh which looked like it had just been buried the night before. Even the eyes were still there. They were bright blue with flakes of gold but still dry as if they were dehydrated but they were there and they were staring out at him. It was almost scary but he thought for a minute that maybe the soldier wasn’t dead after all…just sleeping but that was impossible. He stayed at the graveside the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening before he went home for his dinner and some desperately needed sleep.

A storm came in sometime around 2:00 AM. It was loud, bright and dangerous. The news said the next day that Allegheny Heights had three inches of rain, along with hail and damaging winds of up to 75 miles per hour. But by then Frank was sound asleep.

Sometime during the night, Frank didn’t look at the clock; he felt a strange feeling on the side of his neck. He said later that it wasn’t painful or anything. He said that it was kind of a tickle. A very intense tickle but it was a tickle.

Waking up he jumped up, the grogginess of sleep wasn’t there. His eyes were clear and he saw a small bat flying around his bedroom. He didn’t scream or anything. He walked out of his room, went to the closet and got a broom. Now, he was awake but still a bit, a wee bit disoriented so when he swung the broom he took out his lamp, the clock on the dresser and a small statue that his grandmother had given him the Christmas before. He never did hit the bat. It swerved out of the way each time he swung. He was so frustrated that he threw the broom, smashing a hole in his window. To make matters worse the bat followed the broom out of the small hole. After picking up the mess and putting some duct tape on his window he went back to sleep.

The next morning he woke to “Highway to Hell” blaring out of his alarm clock. He had the usual reaction of jumping up; pulling on the clothes that smelled the least out of a pile he had in the corner of his room…right next to his empty dresser…and then he rushed to the bathroom to shave the few whiskers he had and comb his hair. That morning the routine was the same until he looked in the mirror. There, where he felt the tickle the night before was a deep red rash. It looked like a brush burn but it wasn’t quite as red and although there were scars it did not show some but not a lot of bleeding.

“What in the hell,” he asked in a frightened voice. His mom was walking by and heard Frank so she stuck her head in and asked what he was talking about. “I don’t know mom. I woke up and there’s a rash on my neck. I don’t know where it came from.”

She looked at it and put some salve on it, gave him a kiss and told him to hurry down for breakfast. “Honey, it isn’t anything serious,” she said as she stepped through the door. “You probably got into some poison ivy. You know how that stuff is around here. You can’t get away from it.” He said he did and he went on with whatever he had to do. He took about an hour total. He had to figure out a way to cover the rash. He ended up stealing some of his mom’s makeup and covering it that way.

On the way to school he decided to swing by the grave site to see how it was. The ground was drenched. It was so wet that every time Frank took a step he sank into the mud up to his ankles. It took a lot of time and effort to move the hundred or so yards to the site. That gave him time to think and it was then he started to worry. Was the body okay? Did the rain and everything do anything to ruin it? He knew that it would be dirty. After all he opened the casket and never reclosed it. How could he have been so stupid?

Once he got there he was in for a shock…the grave was completely open…the dirt scattered all over the area. The edges of the grave were sharp and straight. That was something he never could have expected. The body was intact and yes, it was dirty…filthy as a matter of fact. The thing was it was out of the grave…almost ten feet away. He thought that it must have been the rain that moved the body until he saw a set of footprints moving away from the grave and back to where the body was laying.

Looking at the body he got a serious look on his face.  “Benedict,” he started. “Who was here playing with you last night?   Maybe you don’t know but I have to find out and soon.”

He dragged the body back to the grave and, not very gently, tossed it into the hole but before he did he smartly checked out the pockets in the uniform. He found a pocket on the inside of the coat’s breast. There he found a piece of paper. Opening it he saw that it read, “Darling Elizabeth, I will be coming home at the end of the month. I look forward to seeing you and the children. Here’s some news, we have driven the rebels back at a ridge in the west of the Pennsylvania Colony. It is such a primitive land. Bugs here are the size of bats at home. I was bitten by one a fortnight ago and it healed properly so I am not afraid. Please my loving wife…take care and care for the young ones.  Your loving husband, Michael.”

Frank looked down at the body. He was facing the sky and his eyes were open so Frank could look him deep into the missing soul. “So, your name is Michael,” he said. “It is nice to meet you Sir Michael. I hope to get to know you a lot better before I let anyone else know about you.”

Frank either didn’t see or couldn’t see that there was a twitch in the corner of the body’s mouth. It looked as if it were trying to smile or something.

“I have to go to school now,” Frank continued as if the body could hear him. “It’s kind of funny that we are studying the revolution.” He paused for a second as he kicked a small rock into the grave. “Somehow I doubt that you were any one important, were you? Nah, you couldn’t have been anyone.” Kicking another stone in, he turned and walked away. He yelled back, “See you later Michael. I hope you’ll still be here.” He laughed and took off running.

He didn’t stop at the grave after he got out of school choosing instead to rush home and call his friend to invite him for an overnight campout. He said that it was going to be in his backyard but he knew better. He and his friend Charlie were going to campout over by Michael’s grave. His friend, of course, said yes. He showed up just before sunset and they started out. On the way Frank told him the whole story about how he had found the body, dug it up and was now finding out who that man was.

When they got there his friend wanted badly to see the grave, the body and hear some more about the stories. Bullshit or not,  it was good listening on a warm summer’s evening and it would look really good if he could remember enough to tell his friends and maybe, just maybe sit down and write a short story or maybe a book about it.

Charlie walked close to the grave and glanced in. Michael was still there looking into the sky. His dead features and blank eyes terrified the young man to no end. He was shaking and nearly peed his pants as he scampered away. “Wha – wha – what is that,” Charlie asked.

“That’s Michael,” Frank replied with a laugh in his voice. “He’s dead and has been for a couple hundred years.”

“Bu – bu - but he looks so alive,” Charlie said as he back up further.

“I know. Ain’t it cool?” Frank took Charlie by the shoulders and walked him back to the grave. “Look at him,” Frank commanded. “I have been here with him for days now and he hasn’t moved or said a word. He is deader than that doornail they keep talking about.”

Neither boy looked directly into the face that was in the ground looking at them. Michael’s eyes had changed. They had turned from the dry lifeless they were a few moments before into bright shiny eyes you would expect to see from a teenage boy. As a matter of fact, if you looked carefully, there was a trace of a tear in the corner of Michael’s right eye and there was a feeling of pain barely hidden in their blank stare.

After calming Charlie down to where he didn’t want to run home to his mommy the boys went up on a nearby hill and set up camp. They spent the next couple of hours trying to gross out each other and talk about the hot sixteen year old with the 48dd boobs. They both had a thing for her but neither had the guts to say anything so the just talked to each other and fantasized about what they’d do if they ever got the chance.

Then, after all the girl talk, they decided to go down and look at the grave again before they went to sleep. On the way down Frank told his how Michael was ten feet away from his grave that morning but he made it sound like a joke. It sounded like a joke and Charlie was light hearted about everything until they got to the grave and Michael was not in his coffin.

“Look around,” Frank yelled.

The two of them covered an area of about 600 square feet without finding anything except their footprints and one other set they could not identify. Yeah, they were in a panic but they managed to control themselves as they searched. After about thirty minutes they stopped searching and it was at that moment Frank realized…someone stole Michael!

They didn’t stay after that. Both Frank and Charlie hurriedly packed up their stuff and headed back to Frank’s house where they spent the rest of the night camped out in his backyard. They talked about a lot of things that night…everything from cars to baseball and once again girls but never, not once, did the discussion go anywhere near missing dead bodies. The boys could tell exactly who was coming.

Sometime around 4:30 AM the boys, along with most of the neighborhood, were awakened by the sounds of sirens coming closer. Charlie called them out as he heard them, Allegheny Heights Police, state police, local fire trucks and lastly the town’s ambulance. The each drove by Frank’s house and it sounded like they stopped no more than a half mile away. Being a normal small town everyone, including Frank and Charlie, ran down Maple Leaf Rd. to see what was going on.

They got there a couple seconds before the crowd. One of the EMT’s working the scene was talking to a state cop describing what they had found. He whispered as not to panic anyone but Frank and Charlie were close enough to hear every word.

“I can’t imagine what happened,” the fireman said. “That was Mr. Falconer. Someone showed up and managed to get into the house. I don’t know how but he or she attacked Falconer and killed him. It was funny there were no signs of violence anywhere and the body was just laid out. It was as if the killer wanted to show her some respect after he or she killed them. The funny thing was…there was no blood. Not a drop anywhere to be found. Even the body was almost chalk white. That’s freaking huh?” The cop agreed and then they both went back into the house.

“You don’t think…,” Charlie asked in a voice so quiet he could hardly be heard.

“Nah,” Frank replied.

“Then where…,” Charlie started asking before Frank shut him up.

Before Frank could answer they heard a call come over the fire truck’s speaker. There were two more bodies discovered on the other side of town. Responders were warned to proceed with caution that there may be a murderer in the area. With that the police and fire truck left under full lights to see what was going on.

Frank turned to Charlie. There was a strange seriousness in his face. Both he and Charlie were thinking the same thing at exactly the same second. Could the man they Frank dug up…could he be responsible for what was happening? Could he somehow be alive enough to be killing people? “We have to get back,” Frank said. “We have to see…we have to find Michael and find out what is going on.”

They rushed back to Frank’s backyard, gathered up their stuff and they headed back to the grave. Charlie was understandably scared and, although Frank would never show it or admit it the thoughts of what they might find was too horrible to think about.

By the time the made it back the moon was full and was hovering almost directly above them. The blueness of the light and the high contrast of the shadows made their way look like something out of a bad horror movie but they kept walking. As the moved deeper into the woods the canopy blocked all the light from the moon. The path was totally black and it took awhile for their eyes to adjust to the darkness and when they were able to see they saw a man standing beside the grave looking into it.

“Michael,” Frank asked as Charlie hid behind the trunk of a large tree.

The figure turned toward them. He was still wearing the uniform. “I beg your pardon,” Michael said as he stepped away from the grave.

“Are you Michael,” Frank asked more directly.

“I am named Michael,” he replied with a thick accent. “My name is Captain Michael Frances Worthshire of His Majesty’s Second Battalion stationed in Boston in the Massachusetts colony. Frank reached out to shake the Captain’s hand but pulled it back just a quickly as he asked how he ended up in Pennsylvania. “We were sent by order of the king to travel to Fort Littleton. On the way we were supposed to trade with the natives to gain their allegiance to the crown.”

While Frank was standing there talking to him, he wasn’t paying attention to the fact that Charlie had snuck away and headed back into town.

“What happened to you,” Frank asked.

“I remember we were in a battle and there were a lot of bug around…big bugs and something bit me on the back of the neck. At the same time I felt a sharp pain to the back of my head and I was knocked out. When I woke up I was the only one left alive. It was terrible. Bodies, limbs and entrails littered the ground for miles. I started walking until I found a small settlement. They treated my wounds, except for one. There were a pair of small wounds on my neck and that caused the people to panic. As soon as I was able they carried me out of town and left me on the side of a road. After that I wandered for days until I collapsed where you found me. Some of the people from that settlement followed me. They beat me and tied me to the ground. When they finally decided I was dead, or near death they buried me.”

“What happened then,” Frank asked as his interest increased.

“I realized when they threw the last pile of dirt on my grave that I was not dead. Then I realized that the wounds on the back of my neck were something more than an insect bite.”

“What were they?”

“I heard stories when I was back in England about creatures in Europe who drink blood and, if they didn’t kill their victim, they became like them. We called them vampires.”

“We still call them vampires but they are nothing but legend and myth.”

“I am here. Am I a legend? Am I am myth? Vampires are real and I am one.”

“Then why aren’t you drinking my blood,” Frank asked as he started backing away. It was strange but Frank wasn’t feeling the fear he should be feeling. He was more curious than anything so he stopped in his tracks and looked directly into Michael’s eyes. He didn’t see the look that vampires had in the movies…Michael had a look of affection and friendship. Maybe that wasn’t really there but that was what Frank saw. “Did you feed on those other people?

Michael lowered his head as if he were ashamed or maybe he had a feeling that he did something that he really didn’t want to do. “Yes boy, I did feed on those people,” Michael said. He sounded almost apologetic when he talked about what he did. “I…my kind can’t survive on animal blood, It is not nourishment for us. We need to feed on human blood. Now that I have fed I will not have to for many years.”

“Why didn’t you feed from me,” Frank asked again as he stepped face to face with the vampire. It was only then that he saw traces of blood on the corners of Michael’s mouth and then he was hit by the sweet smell of fresh blood coming every time Michael took a breath. The combination of the sight of blood as well as the smell made him sick to his stomach. It was hard to keep from throwing up…there was a couple times when he had to swallow his own vomit…but he managed to keep his composure. “Why,” he asked again.

“When they buried me…” Michael started, “...they lined the coffin with silver. That held me in my tomb. When you opened the lid and you turned me to face the moon that released me but I have to return before the sun rises over the mountains at the end of the valley. If I do not return to the soil of my tomb…I will die an agonizing death.”

Just then Frank heard noise in the distance. He heard people yelling. It sounded like a lot of people, maybe the entire population of Allegheny Heights. Charlie did what he thought he did. He went to town and told people about Michael, the grave and how Michael was killed and rose as a vampire.

“Michael…,” Frank said. “…you have got to get out of here.” He knew what was going to happen. The people of the town had to deal with things like this before. Allegheny Heights, for some reason, was a center point for the paranormal. Some said that a cave in the mountains was a gateway to another dimension or maybe an entrance to Hell itself.

“I can’t leave,” Michael said. For the first time he was losing his calmness and he was starting to feel fear.  Even in war he was the one who remained calm and did his duty to the king. “The sun is going to rise soon and I have to stay on this soil. There is nothing I can do.”

Frank looked at the horizon and the sky was a bright orange. It would not be long before the sun was over the mountains and Michael would die in a ball of flame and smoke.

The sounds were getting closer. Frank thought about how stupid he was to bring Charlie there…how he should have kept Michael and everything a secret. By now they were close enough so the both Frank and Michael could see the glow of their flashlights.

“You have got to go,” Frank yelled. “You have to run away!”

“I can’t,” Michael replied. His voice was no longer smooth and unshaken. He was in the beginnings of a strong panic and Frank had no idea how to calm him.

Suddenly he came up with an idea. He only had a few minutes but he thought that it just might work. “Michael, you have to go bad into the grave. You have to be quiet and pretend to be dead again. That is the only way to save you.” Michael did as he was told, climbing down into the hole. “Whatever you do…do not move…do not breathe.” Michael laid down on the wooden floor. He looked restful as Frank replaced the lid and shoveled more and more dirt into the grave. He didn’t have enough time to fill the grave but he did the best he could.

It was just seconds after he finished that the crowd surrounded him. There were more than five hundred people surrounding him. Charlie was at the front standing next to the grave.

“Where’s the vampire,” a man yelled.

“Where is the killer,” another screamed.

Frank stood there silently. He wasn’t going to tell. He hoped that they would just up and go away but they didn’t.

“He’s here,” Charlie yelled as he pointed at the grave. “This is where Frank was when he showed me the monster.”

A group of men rushed and started digging. Another group stood at the side with knives, gun and clubbed.

“Get him,” the crowd was screaming.

Frank ran to the grave and jumped in trying to stop them from digging deep enough to find the soldier. The police were there but they were not there to help. They were there to stop anyone from interfering and that meant they were there to stop Frank. They grabbed him from the hole. They were not gentle as they dragged him out and handcuffed him to a nearby tree. He was crying and begging for them to stop but no one wanted to hear that.

The ground was soft from being freshly disturbed so it only took them a couple minutes to dig down to the coffin. The lid was shut tight but a couple of crowbars and four men lifted the lid easily. Michael was there lying perfectly still. His eyes were open and staring straight ahead. One of the men looked into Michael’s eyes and he saw something he could not describe when he was asked about it later. He was scared…so scared he stood there and shook. He stood there until Michael’s mouth twitched just a bit…barely noticeable…but it was still enough to be seen. “He’s alive,” the man yelled. With that he pulled out a twelve inch butcher knife and drove it through Michael’s chest and heart.

“No,” Frank screamed as the knife ripped into Michael’s body. The cops who handcuffed Frank to the tree and ordered the boy to be silent or else. “Why are you killing him,” Frank screamed even louder.

“I warned you kid,” the cop yelled as he slapped Frank and put a gag in his mouth.

This was too much for Michael to take. He jumped from the coffin yelling, “you leave that boy alone.” He reached for his chest and pulled the knife out. He stepped away from the grave and slashed the knife back and forth striking four people. “I said leave that boy alone.” He lunged toward the boy leaving space between him and the ground. “I will kill you all,” he yelled as he got close to Frank who was still gagged but crying and struggling against the handcuffs.

The cop was the first one to fire his gun. The bullet ripped through Michael’s side, throwing him off balance causing him to fall in a ball on the ground.

Immediately Michael was back to his feet in a crouching position like a wild animal stalking its prey. His face didn’t show any humanity at all. He was a blood thirsty beast and there was nothing going to stop him from protecting the boy. As he rose to his feet one shot and another rang through the trees. Within second every person who had brought a gun was firing. Pistols, shotguns, rifles and a few high powered weapons all filled the air with bullets and the sound of the shots combined into a roar.

In the end more than three hundred rounds were fired and Michael was laying in a puddle of black fluid that flowed from his veins.

Charlie was nearby crying and in shock from what he had seen. How could the people he grew up with turn like that he thought.

The cop went over to check the body to make sure it was dead. There were no heartbeat but there was a smell. The cop later said that it was the smell of death. After he said that in fact Michael was dead he went over and released Frank who immediately ran over to Michael’s body. He was crying and one of his tears touched Michael’s face and with that Michael twitched and his eyes opened. Frank said that there was a smile on Michael’s face.

One of the townspeople saw the movement and, without warning, ran over with a machete he used to clear brush and he took Michael’s head off with just one swing.

Frank screamed as the “blood” splashed all over him. Then he did something no one expected. He turned to the people and started at them. His eyes were deep and cold. His eyebrows were tightly squeezed together creating furrows that look as threatening as any boy could. He had turned into just as much of an animal as Michael was. It was a blood lust and that scared the hell out of everyone. Then, as if by a miracle Frank turned and run off into the woods and he was never seen again.

Michael’s head was burned and his body staked to the ground in a new unmarked grave in a local cemetery. The sacred ground was there to hold the body and keep his soul from finding his body.

Frank was never seen again although there were stories from towns as far as ninety miles away of bodies being found drained of all their blood. No one was sure if it was Frank or not but then again…no one could ever be 100% sure.