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The strange whispering vanished, at least for me, but the dark tunnel narrowed. I took each step more cautiously, watching the shallow shadow recesses and expecting something to lash out and attack or latch onto my leg and pull me into the thorns. I attempted to make my body smaller, which made walking more difficult.
While the narrowing tunnel was dark, we didn’t need a lantern to see our way. Occasionally shreds of clothing or leather hung from the tips of the thorns where others had passed too closely. I wondered how many had braved the steps this far into the passageway. Like Karl had said, desperate people were willing to put their lives on the line when they lacked food or if they had hungry children.
The thorn-encrusted tunnel twisted in a slight curve toward the right. It seemed we had walked forever, and still we had not seen the first tombstone. The tunnel had come into existence long after the cemetery had been established because no one in their right mind would have troubled themselves to travel through here to bury the dead. But the longer we walked, the more I wondered if this tunnel even ended at a cemetery. Like Father and I had questioned the shortness of the map, the route to the cemetery had seemed too easy on paper. Nothing Karl had told us or drawn even indicated this winding, dangerous path.
I stopped and faced Penelope and Father. “You two okay?”
They nodded.
“You want to turn back?” I asked.
Penelope glanced to my Father.
He shrugged. “I’m not tired, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“No, Father, that’s not why I’m asking. We’ve moved at such a slow pace that none of us should be weary. I’m wondering if we missed something before we got into this passageway.”
“You think there’s another way into the cemetery?” she asked.
“The winding branches forming this tunnel aren’t an accident,” I said.
Penelope nodded. “I told you they are here to keep the vampire inside the cemetery and prevent him from escaping.”
“I agree. But that means someone is using magic to keep this vampire as a prisoner. But why?”
“Maybe,” Father said. “But if he cannot get out to feed, he might be withered inside his crypt and unable to defend himself. An easy kill and easy money.”
“If collecting the bounty for this vampire was easy, why hasn’t anyone claimed it yet?”
“The people got frightened and ran out?” Father suggested.
“Possibly some of them did, but I’ve noticed some shredded clothing on the thorns. Some of those people might have made it into the cemetery to face a hungry vampire. They wouldn’t have escaped death.”
“Doesn’t seem anyone died along the path,” Father said. “No skeletons.”
“Unless their bodies were dragged into the cemetery?”
“I don’t know, Forrest,” Penelope said. “While the thorns certainly could keep a vampire trapped, they are also an obvious deterrent to keep humans out. According to Karl, most of them fled and told him and his wife that the place was haunted.”
“With those horrid voices whispering in my head,” Father said, “I’d think so, too, if we hadn’t discover it was a spell. Let’s go a little ways farther, son. If we don’t reach the cemetery, we turn back and pack the coach.”
I nodded.
I turned, holding the crossbow as if I intended to fire. Other than the magic looming around us, I expected something else to appear. “Do you sense any demons, Penelope?”
“I haven’t yet.”
“Could a witch’s magic mask their presence?”
She was silent for several moments while we crept deeper into the dark passageway. “I’ve never heard of it, but I imagine if the witch held dark intentions and was powerful enough, she might be able to control one. I know the healer summoned one.”
“Do you have weapons to use at close range, if a demon emerges?”
“Yes.” She slid her arm through her bow and knelt to look through her pack. She pulled out a dagger. Runic symbols were engraved into the handle and the blade. “This is the best demon killer I have besides my bow. Of course, holy water can work, depending upon the type of demon. Bibles can work, too. Crosses, if you know the proper scriptures.”
“I’m at a loss there,” I said.
She cocked a brow at me and opened her mouth, but I shook my head and interrupted her.
“Let’s not discuss it now. I spend too much time explaining my views about religion and that is sacred to me. The important question right now is, ‘do you know the proper scriptures?’”
Penelope nodded. “I do, but I’m surprised you don’t. Strange how many of the same weapons work against demons and vampires.”
“I know. Let’s go.”
The tunnel curved back to the left and straightened. Ahead of us light filtered through, where I guessed the exit to this long thorny passageway finally ended. I almost let out a huge sigh of relief when a loud sound echoed from behind us.
“Get out of my head!” the deep harsh voice bellowed.
“Son?” Father said. “Hurry!”
Penelope pushed her hand against my back. “Someone’s coming.”
I glanced over my shoulder but didn’t see anyone in the dark tunnel. But whoever was approaching continued cursing, growling, and he was getting closer. By my guess, he was probably around the bend of the tunnel, but who or what he was, or even his intentions; there wasn’t any way for us to know.
As we approached the faint light, the tunnel widened. I hurried my steps into a slight jog. At the end of the winding branches a rusted gate stood as the last obstacle. I pushed it open, and the hinges whined.
The soil on the other side of the gate was gray. Aged tombstones, some broken, tilted, or shattered, were clustered beneath dark leafless trees forking wicked branches toward the overcast sky. Some of the other tombstones were fashioned with little cherubs or stone vases. Scattered across the graveyard were three stone crypts larger than most cottages. Large menacing statues shaped like angels or hooded clerics held stone swords and daggers as if protectors of the dead, or the undead. Knowing a vampire resided inside one of the three stone crypts made me leery, but it wasn’t dark enough for him to emerge.
I tugged my chained watch from an inner pocket and checked the time. It was three hours until noon. If ever I needed an old Hunter’s intellect to bless me, it was now. The vampire slept inside one of these crypts or possibly even a grave, but I didn’t expect any hints to be given to me. Hunters received guidance but we were never given full knowledge about everything. We were expected to hunt, which was why we were chosen, but being pressed for time, I selfishly desired a pinpointed location. I shook my head. It wasn’t happening. My spiritual Hunter advisors were eerily silent.
Surveying the graveyard, looking for the slightest clue, I said, “We made it through.”
The voice inside the tunnel shrieked with agony. I shoved the gate closed, but it wouldn’t prevent anyone else from opening it.
“But we’re not alone,” Penelope said.
“Probably another Hunter wanting to get the reward before we do,” Father said through tight lips.
“Someone help me!” the man in the tunnel shouted. “The vines are wrapping me up!”
I turned and grabbed the gate.
Penelope placed her hand atop mine and shook her head. “No, Forrest. It’s probably a trap. You go back in there, and it might be a demon who wants to kill you.”
“But can’t you tell if it’s a demon?” I asked.
Her eyes widened. “Not always. Some use such convincing disguises it’s hard to discern whether they are humans or not. And besides that, the magic shrouding the tunnel has a distorting influence. While your intention is to help the person, if he’s actually human, the magic could distort your appearance to him, making him believe you’re a demon or monster. He might kill you when you try to free him.”
Father glanced at me. “It could be worse than that.”
“How?”
“There might not be anyone else in the tunnel at all. Think about the enchanted hedges. The spell over them was to yank the vampire into the hedgerow and stab him until a branch staked through his heart. I don’t know what nightmarish visions you two suffered when we first walked into the thorns, but those voices want blood. They crave blood.”
“I got that impression, too,” I whispered.
“It makes sense,” Penelope said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Dark magic by a witch with a dark soul,” she replied. “The ones who practice black magic need to offer blood in their sacrifices. Perhaps blood feeds the wicked wall.”
I told them about how the voices had tried to convince me to impale myself.
Father swallowed hard. His brow furrowed. “Mine was worse. The voices ... they wanted me to shove each of you into the giant thorns. I’d have never done it. I’d have impaled myself first, but having those thoughts haunts me.”
“Those thick plants need blood,” Penelope said.
“No skeletal remains on the path though,” I said.
“But there were remnants of clothes,” she replied. “The vines might have ways of pulling the bodies into the wall and dissolving them as food, leaving no trace of its victims.”
“The only thing that saved us was the salt?” I asked.
“For now,” she replied.
I took in the information, biting my lower lip. “Then let’s find this vampire, slay him, and get out of here. But, we stick close to one another.”
Father pointed toward the closest tree line. “I don’t think there’s another exit out of the cemetery.”
He was right. The cemetery was a large circle surrounding by towering rows of thorny vines like the tunnel but these formed a wall by connecting to the outer perimeter trees. There wasn’t any way to cross through them. The only good thing about the enclosure was it made an excellent wind barrier, and the temperature seemed warmer than back at the edge of the city.
“We have three crypts, Father. Which should we check first?” I asked.
He frowned. “Why are you asking me? Don’t you know?”
“I don’t. But you’ve hunted vampires longer than I have. I was curious as to what clues you’d look for in determining where he might be.”
Father ran his hand through his beard, eyeing each crypt. “While I’m not certain, I’d go to the farthest first.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Given how he’s apparently imprisoned in the cemetery, that crypt is the farthest from the entrance, which intimidates those with lesser fortitude.”
Made sense to me. “All right. Stick close. We need to keep check on the entrance in case it is a human hoping to slay the vampire and get the bounty. We don’t want to accidentally kill someone who isn’t an undead.”
Penelope placed her hand on my forearm. Her eyes narrowed as she glanced across the cemetery.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Something evil.”
“A demon?”
“Not necessarily. But I sense it. Do you?”
I scanned the areas around the crypts and the tall tombstones, seeing nothing. I didn’t sense anything out of the ordinary. No forewarnings pricked at my mind. I shook my head.
“Sorry I cannot be of more help,” she said. “I think whatever spell holds the thorny barriers in place has affected my psychic sensors.”
“I’m still having problems from it, too,” I replied. “But I’m under the impression that once someone gets inside the cemetery, they’re not meant to leave. Let’s keep going, but we need to stay alert. If you’re sensing an evil presence, I believe we’re going to find it. Soon.”
At the path that led to a crossroads was the first large angelic statue with magnificent feathered wings. It must have been at least ten feet tall. In its right hand it thrust a long sword upward, as if leading a charge into a great battle. The smooth face beckoned peace while the sword shouted war. Its left hand was empty with its palm held upward. It had held something at one point in time.
I shuffled my feet at the statue’s base to move aside leaves. My foot tapped a solid object. I stooped and brushed aside the leaves. On the ground was an open book carved from stone that this angel must have held. I assumed the book was supposed to be the Holy Bible, but I didn’t open the subject for debate.
“Let’s go,” I said.
We causally made our way to the crossroads where another statue stood. Unlike the angelic representative, this sculpture exhibited evil. The face was featureless, except for the catlike eyes that receded into its head. A hooded cloak draped over the forehead almost covering the eyes from view. A long robe covered its body. Both hands extended forward, frozen in cupped formations, but no weapon was in its hands. On the ground was the massive stone scythe that had somehow been dislodged from its stone grip.
Crows cawed from the perimeter trees.
I glanced at the dark statue’s eyes. I couldn’t imagine anyone having the bravery to enter this cemetery at night. These statues were intimidating enough in the daylight. Shrouded in complete darkness? Even I would hesitate further investigation.
Beyond the center of the crossroads, the rock-covered path was buried beneath thick layers of dry leaves, but we didn’t need to follow the road to reach the crypts. However we couldn’t cross the cemetery without making noise. I kicked my way through the leaves while Penelope and Father crunched them underfoot. My boot struck something and it rolled across a rock-covered grave. It was a hat. A Hunter’s hat.
Penelope rushed to it and picked it up. She examined it and looked inside. When her eyes met mine, her lower lip trembled.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s my father’s,” she replied.
“You’re sure?”
She nodded. Tears tugged at the edges of her eyes. I lowered my Hunter box to the ground and rushed to her. I wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her tightly.
I whispered, “It doesn’t mean he’s dead. It’s only his hat.”
Penelope pulled back, her chest heaving as she fought her building sobs. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. “You’re right. Besides, I can’t lose my self-control here, not when there’s a vampire nearby.”
She wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me tightly.
“Forrest,” Father said with urgency rising in his voice.
Still hugging Penelope, I saw the creature, raised the crossbow and fired before he finished his warning. The arrow plunged through the ghoul’s head, causing it to stagger for a few moments before it dropped backwards on the ground. It wasn’t dead. Only fire completely destroyed a ghoul, at least in my experiences. They were the creepiest creatures I had ever fought and without fire, you couldn’t kill them. Hack them into a thousand pieces and each piece crawled, moved, trying to find a living creature to kill and devour, even after they weren’t physically able to do so. A strange sound erupted from its odd mouth like nothing I’d ever heard before. It sprang to its feet and turned until it located us. Its long pointy tongue hung from its mouth, dripping drool. At the edge of the closest crypt were three more with wide crazed eyes focused on us. I should have known not to shoot it because where there’s one ghoul, there’s generally a few more. Sometimes, a whole lot more.
They were diabolical creatures, and now we knew what Penelope had sensed. I wasn’t sure how we were going to escape or kill them.