The Vampires of Cap-Haitien

"You're going to be addicted to me if you're not careful," Beatrice said to me, as we lay on my bed, spent but quite happy. I smiled and drew the sheets over our bodies, and Beatrice snuggled against me. Lying in the dark with her, I felt happy as can be. Beatrice and I have been seeing each other for some time now, and no, I am not going to turn her into a Vampire. I like her just the way she is. I don't want to risk her becoming another Veronique...

"That wouldn't be a bad thing," I whispered into Beatrice's ear as we finally fell asleep. When dawn came, Beatrice and I parted ways. I sent her home with a hug and a kiss, and a promise to take her to dine the following evening. I called Jerome, to inform him of my encounter with Jacques, and the Vampires whom he claimed to represent, these Elders, whoever they are, knew about us. Jerome and I had much to discuss, and I expected him to call me back, but he didn't...

When night fell, I checked out the address on the back of the card. Rue Dix-Huit, close to the park, and across the street from the Cathedrale Notre Dame de Cap-Haitien, downtown in the political district. It's a moneyed area, what with the Universite Roi Henri Christophe and City Hall being within walking distance. There's a lot of businesses nearby as well. So why don't I feel safe going there? I called Jerome and got no reply. Shrugging fatalistically, I headed to meet the Elders.

Located near Place Rue Dix-Huit, the white villa is both lovely and non-descript, which is hard to pull off. I arrived at the door as soon as it got dark, having called a taxi to pick me up. A tall, well-dressed, caramel-hued and bald-headed young gentleman who was definitely not human introduced himself as Raphael, and instructed me to follow him. Unlike Jacques, Raphael's hand felt warm and almost human when I shook it. Weird, definitely weird.

"Welcome to La Maison Des Tenebres, Monsieur Voltaire," Raphael said, looking and sounding rather calm, cool and collected. I looked at the dapper Vampire and I smiled, truly loving the sound of that. The two of us headed into the house, and I smiled at the inhabitants. Everywhere I looked, I saw well-dressed, attractive black men and black women. If I didn't know better, I would have thought they were ordinary members of the city's elite, and I would have been dead wrong...

"Bonsoir, Monsieur Voltaire," came a feminine voice, and I watched as a tall, lovely black woman in her forties, clad in a bright green dress, her hair done in a stylish Afro, stepped forward. This vision of beauty, who reminded me of Hollywood legend Angela Bassett, came toward me, her manner delightfully regal, a beatific smile on her beautiful face.

"Bonsoir, Madame," I replied, nodding respectfully, taking my cues from the other Vampires, all of whom stood at attention like soldiers greeting their commander. I did the same, for I'd already guessed that this lady, whoever she is, does indeed run this house. It would seem that among mortals and among the Undead, the lady of a house runs said house.

"Make yourself at home, Monsieur Voltaire, I am Ava Duchene," the lady said, and I gently shook her hand. She ushered me into the living room, and I smiled politely at the other Vampires, who easily numbered twenty or more, and could have torn me to pieces in an instant. I was in the presence of the Vampire Elite, the secret rules of Haitian society from time immemorial, I simply did not know it at the time.

"What can I do for you, Madame Duchene?" I asked, and before Ava could answer, a dapper little gentleman walked by. I quietly bristled as I recognized Jacques, who smiled at me, smug as ever. Ava Duchene smiled at Jacques, who joined the others, sipping on a bottle that contained wine mixed with human blood. A Vampire's nose is ten times sharper than a dog's, and we know such things.

"Well, Monsieur Voltaire, you've been quite busy for a fledgling, you made at least two Vampires that we know about, that poor gal Veronique, and your former lover Jerome, and perhaps you have plans for turning that young woman you've been seeing, Beatrice, it would seem we got to you just in time," Ava Duchene said, and the lady leaned back on her throne-like chair, a serious expression on her lovely face.

"I got lonely, you see, for a long time, I thought I was the only one of our kind," I replied, trying to sound polite without showing fear. It's a good thing that as a Vampire, my heart doesn't beat and I don't breathe anymore. If my heart still beat, it would have been going pitter-patter, and Ava Duchene would have sensed the fear that gnawed away at me. I felt intimidated, and didn't like it one bit...

"I see, and who was your maker?" Ava asked, and I saw real curiosity in the lady's chestnut eyes. I risked a glance at the other Vampires and noticed that they watched our little discussion with keen interest, even as they made a show of bantering and drinking in their little soiree. I wasn't fooled for a minute. How my little chat with Ava Duchene went would determined if I made it out of Maison Des Tenebres alive...

"Well, I don't know, you see," I replied, and I told Ava about how I woke up in my own grave, a few months ago. The Vampire lady looked at me, and made a show of licking her fangs, which were far longer and sharper than mine. She smiled understandingly and laid her hand on my knee, like an aunt talking to her favorite nephew. And that's when she pounced on me...

"I'll get the truth out of you," Ava Duchene hissed as she surged forward, and I found myself on the floor, overwhelmed by the Vampire lady, who moved like lightning and had the strength of ten men. I looked up to find Ava glaring at me, eyes bright red now, fangs bared. I struggled in her grasp but to no avail. Ava sank her fangs into my neck, and that's when my whole world went black...

When I came to, I was in a dungeon or a basement somewhere, chained to the wall, bound by chains so strong that even my Undead strength was useless against them. And I wasn't alone. On my left side was my good buddy Jerome, his face all bloody, like he'd gone ten rounds with boxing legend Mike Tyson. To my right stood Veronique, also bound, and there was a vacant look on her face which chilled me to my core...

"Ah, Stephen, finally, you're awake," Jerome said, and I flashed my buddy a weak smile, wondering what in hell we'd gotten ourselves into. I looked at Veronique and tried to get her attention, but she just stood there, alternately mumbling and struggling against her bonds, and then falling silent and immobile before starting the cycle anew. What in hell is wrong with this chick?

"I hate the both of you, I'll drain your blood, this is your fault, all of it," Veronique hissed, and she looked at Jerome and I with a look of pure malevolence in her suddenly crimson eyes. The Vampire gal was literally foaming at the mouth, and that disturbed me because there was something similar to a rabid dog in her behavior. Dammit, when I spotted this gal at the Marketplace, I thought she looked hot but there was something off with her. I knew I should have left her alone...

"Ah, the three little wayward ones, bickering among yourselves even in the hour of your demise," came the sultry, malevolent voice of Ava Duchene, grand dame of Vampire society. The Vampire lady came into the dungeon, accompanied by a group of Vampires. The only ones I recognized were Raphael and Jacques. Brandishing torches and oil lamps, they stepped out of the darkness, and looked at us the way wolves looked at lambs before pouncing on them...

"Go to hell, bitch," Jerome said angrily, and Ava Duchene grinned, and then struck him hard across the face. Jerome yelped in pain and spat blood, but continued to glare at our captor defiantly. I looked at Jerome, admiring his bravery while questioning his sense of timing. Antagonizing one's captor is never a good thing. It forces them to lash out as way of reminding their captives that they're in control...

"When dawn comes, the three of you will burn, you are mistakes, you know nothing of the way of true Vampires, we are creatures of great honor and discretion, and you are way too public in the way you go about your daily lives," Ava Duchene said, speaking haughtily like a judge sentencing a criminal to a lengthy prison term. I shrugged, knowing that there was little I could do to change her mind. This broad is evidently drunk on her own power...

"Whatever, lady, we are what we are, and just because we're Vampires doesn't mean we answer to you, and we don't want to be part of your little club," I said, and Ava Duchene looked at me, a wicked smile upon her face. I have seen looks of contempt on people's faces my entire life. Those who think they're better than you always have such looks on their faces. As a poor guy from farming country attending a private Catholic school filled with the sons of the wealthy, I was used to being on the receiving end of such looks...

"You don't know anything, Monsieur Voltaire, for your maker is none other than your long-lost father, whom we banished to his watery grave decades ago," Ava Duchene said, and that's when I gasped in shock, for I was definitely not expecting to hear those words. I looked at Ava like she had two heads, and they were both messed up. What the fuck is this bitch talking about?

"What in hell are you talking about?" I demanded, and Ava Duchene laughed, as did her Vampire acolytes, as if sharing some kind of private joke. As far as I knew, my father François Voltaire was long gone, heaven knew where. I watched as Ava stepped closer to me, until she was inches from me, and I saw mockery and pity on her face. What was she driving at? If this witch wanted me dead, she ought to get on with it. The spitefulness and the games irked me, and I didn't care for them one bit...

"Before you die, young one, I'll grant you this much," Ava Duchene said, and she bit her wrist, and pressed it against my lips. As a few droplets of her blood fell into my mouth, a shock coursed through me. A jumble of images shot through my mind like lightning, and I saw my father, François Seraphim Voltaire, as he had been fifteen years ago, surrounded by Vampires, Ava Duchene among them. I saw him fighting them, and fall to them, only to rise again, as one of them.

"You turned my father into one of you," I spat, and Ava Duchene smiled, flashing her fangs. Closing my eyes, I saw the image again, and after my father François Seraphim Voltaire rose as one of the Undead, Ava Duchene and her merry little band chained him, and rather than expose him to sunlight or decapitate him, they found a way to torment him for all eternity, by casting him, chained and bound, into the waters of Grande Riviere Du Nord.

"Yes, you people of the Voltaire clan have always been in tune with the supernatural, and your father and his predecessors used their gifts to hunt us, like so many people in Quartier Morin, I knew that when those who hunt our kind become Undead, they become exceptionally powerful, and I couldn't have such a threat to my power," Ava said, and I saw a cold, raw hatred in her eyes.

"You evil bitch," I said, and Ava Duchene drew a silver blade out of her pocket, and got ready to slice my head off. I braced myself for the swift pain that would precede my journey into oblivion. I waited for the blow, but it never came. For a withered, yet strong hand caught Ava Duchene's wrist, and then swiftly yanked it away. I don't mean yanked it away as in away from my face. I meant yanked it out of her arm.

"Ouch," Jerome said, even as an inhuman scream poured out of Ava Duchene, whose arm spouted blood like a crimson fountain. I blinked as an apparition seized Ava's head and wrenched it off her shoulders, silencing her screams. Moments later, the same apparition waded through Ava's Vampire acolytes. The Undead men and Undead women roared in fury, and tried to confront their enemy, but whoever, or whatever it was, the apparition simply moved too quickly.

"What the hell?" I exclaimed, as the apparition finally paused, and it stood in front of me, covered in the blood of the twenty or so Vampires which it just killed, moving almost with Cartoonish speed. The creature that stood before me reminded me of old movies I'd seen, for it looked like something which had been dead for ages. Brilliant red eyes looked at me from a face that was little more than a fleshy skull, with oversized fangs in its maw.

"Mon fils," the creature said, and it sniffed the air, and that's when something inside told me what I'd somehow known all along. This creature, whatever it is, is my father. François Seraphim Voltaire. With a swipe of its clawed hands, the creature sliced through the silver manacles which held me, and I was suddenly free. Tentatively, I reached out, and touched my father's monstrous face, without fear or shame.

"Father, is that you, Papa François?" I asked, and the creature nodded. Before I could say anything else, I felt Jerome and Veronique struggle in their bonds. I had momentarily forgotten about the two of them, so dazed I was by the tantalizing figure standing before me. I freed them in an instant, and my father looked at me, and my companions. Filled with inspiration, I bit into my wrist, drawing blood. I held out my wrist before my father's face, a silent offering...

"Merci mon fils," Papa François replied, in a cavernous voice that should have filled me with dread, but didn't. The creature that my father had become seized my wrist, and drank from me, drawing out my blood. I felt myself weaken as my blood was drained, and my legs became wobbly. Jerome and Veronique grabbed me, and pushed my father away, and in spite of their support, I stumbled to the floor like so much dead weight. Even as I lay there, with my companions tending to me, I smiled faintly, for I beheld a most fantastic sight...

"Papa," I whispered, watching as the creature changed before my very eyes, new flesh growing where there had been little more than bones before. In instants the transformation was complete, and where once stood an almost skeletal monster, now stood a tall, handsome, middle-aged black man with dark hair streaked with gray. Exactly the way my father François Seraphim Voltaire looked the last time I saw him, so long ago...

"Stephen, mon fils, I am back, thanks to you," Father said, and Veronique and Jerome exchanged shocked glances as my father knelt down, and gently laid his hand on my chest. I sighed happily, and for some reason I felt better. It was as if some kind of energy flowed through him and into me. I definitely no longer felt weakened from blood loss. Feeling strengthened, I took my father's hand, and he pulled me to his feet.

"Papa François, it's really you," I said, and my father smiled, looking very human, even though I could tell that he was a Vampire, like me. I looked at my dear Jerome, and at Veronique, who seemed to be in one of her more lucid moments. The two of them looked at my father and I, as if awaiting something. Suddenly remembering myself, I was about to make introductions, but my father beat me to it...

"Stephen, my son, your new family should meet your father," Papa François said, smiling faintly at my companions. I smiled in return, and then dutifully did the introductions. I watched as my father shook hands with Jerome, and nodded gently at Veronique, before kissing her hand. For the first time since I'd known her, Veronique actually cracked a smile. I smiled at them, the most important people in my life. My father, my ex-boyfriend, and a beautiful woman whom I drove insane before turning her into a Vampire against her will. I'm a real piece of work, aren't I?

"Papa François, guys, we should get out of here, Ava Duchene may be gone but her henchmen might still be around," I pointed out, and Papa nodded. Our little quartet thusly slipped out of Maison Des Tenebres, after dutifully setting it on fire. We walked into the darkness, our weird, fucked-up little family. With dawn but a couple of hours away, we needed to find daytime accommodations, and fast...

"We have lots to talk about, when we finally get home, my son," Papa François said, as we walked in the darkness. I gently laid my hand on my father's shoulder, a gesture as unfamiliar to me as it was welcome to him. We exchanged a smile, and I nodded, for we indeed had much to discuss. I had so many questions for my father. For starters, where in hell has he been?

As I recall, my father François Seraphim Voltaire was a Hunter, one of a group dedicated to tracking down and eliminating the Undead. One day, Ava Duchene and her Vampires turned him and then imprisoned him in that watery grave. My father remained trapped for ages, until our fateful encounter, and somehow he gained the strength to free himself. Somehow, he tracked me down and saved me in the nick of time. Hmmm, so many plot holes in that story...

The answers to my questions are going to have to wait. Ava Duchene may be dead, well, deader, but that doesn't mean that the other Vampires residing in Cap-Haitien, and the rest of the country are going to stop coming after us. Walking about the dark streets of Cap-Haitien with my long-lost father, my former lover, and a half-crazed female ally, I smiled, for I was with family for the first time in ages. My messed-up little family and I have quite a fight on our hands...

"We're going to need allies in this fight, handsome," Jerome said to me, and I smiled at him, and linked my arm with his. Looking at Veronique, I smiled at her, for she was my creation, as much as Jerome is my creation, and I felt a duty toward her, and a certain kind of love. As much as a creature like what I am now can feel love, anyways. I now know what I'm fighting for...family.

"Stephen, Jerome, you're both fucked up, and I have still have beef with you, but right now, we need to stick together," Veronique said, and I smiled and put my arm around her. My hand kind of wandered toward her ass, and she dug her claws into my arm, causing me to wince. I kept my hand on her waist without wandering any further, and Veronique flashed me a wicked smile.

"I'm glad you feel this way, my dear Veronique, because we're going to need all the help we can get to win this little war against Ava Duchene's pals, and all those Vampires out there who follow them," I said, and with that, I led my newfound family to the apartment of my new lady love, Beatrice Toussaint. I had hoped to keep Beatrice out of all this, but the die was cast. Since Ava Duchene and her crew already knew about Beatrice, the lady's mortal life was over. Nevertheless, I can assure you that it was quite a surprise for Beatrice when we arrived on her doorstep, an hour before dawn.

"Oh dear, Stephen, it's you, and you've brought company, come on in," Beatrice Toussaint said, smiling pleasantly as she greeted us at the door in her bathrobe. I smiled at this beautiful young woman with the kind heart and trusting, open smile. Drawing Beatrice into my arms I kissed her, thanking her for her hospitality. As my lady love welcomed me with open arms, I embraced her, then sank my fangs into her neck. Relax, I didn't kill her. What kind of ruthless son of a bitch do you take me for? In a few hours, Beatrice will be a new Vampire. Isn't that cool?

"Welcome to our family," I said to Beatrice Toussaint, twenty four hours later, as she arose, a nascent Vampire filled with wonder at her new existence. Beatrice looked at me and smiled nervously, beholding the world with a Vampire's eyes. Unlike me, she was lucky to be surrounded by a Vampire family which would welcome her with open arms. Papa François, Jerome, Veronique and myself, we would all be there for Beatrice. That's what family does.

"Let's show this city what our little clan can do," Papa François said, as we stood, side by side, on the rooftop of Beatrice Toussaint's apartment. With darkness freshly fallen, our little family took to the streets of Cap-Haitien, to hunt human prey, and also wage war upon the Vampires affiliated with the late, and not-so-great Vampire Matriarch formerly known as Ava Duchene. It's going to be a grandiose and blood-soaked affair, as we slaughter our enemies and replenish our ranks at the same time. Definitely something to see. I'll tell you about it some other time. I'm too thirsty for blood to keep up the storytelling to tell you the truth...