The Crimson Trail

Chapter-6

Darren thudded the door of Jim Flangton’s house. Irked and yawning, Jim Flangton opened up the latch, only to be pushed aside in a hurried response. His worn out eyes were still battling with the rays of the street light that had entered inside, that Darren locked the door behind him.

“What on earth are you trying to do!? It’s already past 3! How were you able to enter?” – Father Jim had not known peace since the moment Darren had entered in his life.

“Trying not to make this night your last one! Now quickly hand me down some of your priestly stuff.” – His eyes were searching desperately all around the room.

“Priestly stuff! Such disrespect! I...”, Before Father Jim could say anything further, Darren slightly pushed him towards a wall. With his feet trying to find the path backwards, a terror- stricken Jim Flangton leaned on with his back to the wall.

Darren drew extremely close and putting his index finger on Jim’s lips, uttered – “Sshhh... Father. Some of the finest fighting beasts are out there trying to seek you. They know no empathy like humans, nor are they animals who behold loyalty. Before they can take you, let me chop them off to pieces.”

“What do you want?”

“Some holy water, few rosaries and yes... some garlic.” – Darren started checking upon his weapon count. He had to be prepared for a real bloodshed tonight.

Jim Flangton had no choice. He handed all that had been asked for to Darren and could not help but ask, “Why are you saving me? And from whom?”

“You know what your problem is? That you keep asking questions rather than seeking the answers.” Darren was absolutely prepared.

Before leaving the house, he turned back and said, “My intentions are purer than your chants will ever be. That’s why I was able to enter inside. Now... stay in your room and don’t make any sound. And don’t dare look outside.” His eyes were fixed at Jim Flangton.

Father Jim nodded and went back into his room. Darren on the other hand, came out and perched over the roof of the house. He tried hard to find Oliver, but found no trace of him. All of a sudden, he could sense the strong scent of his foes. They were fewer in number than before, but they undoubtedly, were the strongest.

“It’s going to be a tough fight...” he mumbled to himself and jumped on to the road.

Jim Flangton went near the window and tried to see outside without disturbing the drapes. What he saw next turned the disgust in his eyes to shock.

Summoning up all his power, Darren closed his eyes, as if trying to concentrate. Fine hairs started surfacing on his otherwise pale skin, his curls grew denser and the muscles of his arms tightened. The nerves started protruding from his temple to his neck and his nails grew bigger. He opened up his eyes which had turned a shade of dark red and pastel lips made way for his fangs which had come out with prominence. He snarled, which made his nostrils expand. He looked every inch of monstrous, nor animal, nor human, and not even a cold blooded vampire; as the myths went about. He had turned into something that transcended all that was known till then.

Jim Flangton stepped back, startled and sat down on his bed. He could not believe his eyes and his hands reached at the table bedside, to get hold of his rosary. Clutching the beads firmly, as if lost in thoughts; his lips managed to whisper, “I should have known. He is just like Claire. He is one of hers.”