Contamination

I will corrupt all that is light. (Image by Louis Le Breton [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons)

I will corrupt all that is light. (Image by Louis Le Breton [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons)

This vile little ditty originally appeared in Aberations #11 (yes, that’s how it was spelled), but I never received payment…or a copy, though I’d repeatedly contacted the original owner and publisher…who had long-ago sold the business.

This story is the only other vampyre  story I’d written (as far as I’ve found to date)…and it is nasty. I’d come quite a long way from my original and tame 1978 vampyre story. This one is a mash-up of the metaphysical (“The only limits are those we choose to accept!“), horror (appropriate vampyre violence), sex (yup), and religion (pretty much bet it’s not what you’re expecting). But it was the metaphysical considerations (“The only limits are those we choose to accept“) I applied to the horror genre that are typically only applied to pleasant, everyday life. Safe, pleasant everyday life. So, I applied the consideration to two standard horror and religious tropes. I’m sure it will upset a certain few. That’s the way it goes…can’t please everybody. At the time…the story begged to be written. So, I wrote it.

The crucifix written about in this story is based on one our family owned when I was a kid (not I’m not sure where it is now)—it was an absolutely beautiful piece of art, just as described, with the black-topped glass vial secreted away in the back inside it. With the sturdy thin metal Jesus on the front. Had a beautiful heft to it. I’ve never seen another cross like this…but, you know, I’m not a religious guy. And as nonreligious as I was even as a kid, I loved to hold it and look at it…purely for its aesthetics. It was cool looking!

This story is not.

This story was published February 8, 1993.

 

Contamination

© F. P. Dorchak, 1992

 

Rosary dangling about her neck, Sister Mary Solicity eased the boy’s legs under the blankets.

“Thank you, Sister,” the youngster said.

The Sister smiled back. “You’re quite welcome, young Benjamin. Now close your eyes and get some sleep. You did good today.”

The child’s eyes lit up. “I did?

“Yes, you certainly did. Now good night, and the Lord be with you.”

“Good night, Sister Mary. Good night!”

Sister Mary Solicity withdrew from the boy’s bed and turned off the light, but ensured that his nightlight remained on. Benjamin closed his eyes and dreamed about the parents who would one day be his. Parents who would love him this time, never abandon him.

Sister Solicity closed the door and continued on down the hall, checking the other rooms.

 

The night blazed past cold and alert eyes. The darkness was alive and intoxicating, but new blood was needed. New blood, but not just any new blood. This one required more, required a challenge. This one wanted to rock reality and send the world into a new form of corruption and defilement, one that had never been known before. The old ways, the old rules—they were outdated and stifling. This one knew they could be broken; knew they could be changed. Rules were meant to be destroyed and he would be their destroyer.

And he hated.

As unfeeling as his race was deemed to be that was one thing that was incorrect—they did possess hatred. They hated all that was opposite to them…they hated with such intensity that all of life had shunned their very existence…banishing them into an eternal darkness and damnation that came to consume their blackened souls.

They were condemned to die—yet not even death would embrace them.

Instead they instigated a profound mockery, which polluted all that was called good. All that was called life. It was a discovery that was to keep the race alive…a discovery so vindictive that a new race was forced into existence. The undead. Nosferatu. Their names were many, but they all meant the same thing.

Vampyre.

The creature blazed on through the darkness, his consciousness alive and vibrant. He would bring his race into the new order. Take them out from under the ragged legends that had kept them at bay all these centuries—and a lot would have to be atoned for that lost time.

And he would lead them out.

He would inject new venom into the terror that was theirs…and tonight it would begin.

He grew weary of those of his kind that were merely content to live the legends. New legends were needed. New myths.

And this was the night.

 

Sister Mary Solicity closed the last door behind her and held her rosary out before her, loosely but reverently. She felt so much pain for the children, yet so much love. They were the lost sheep in need of a shepherd, and she was relieved that she had been chosen as their guide.

She knew of a Shepherd. The Shepherd.

Sister Mary Solicity could only vaguely understand what brought parents to abandon or abuse children—their children. She tried not to dwell on the subject, for when she did she found a rage build within that tore her apart.

Unchristian thoughts.

Thoughts that assailed her and sent her to the confessionals.

Thoughts that would cause her to accept penance—a penance upon which she would then add her own.

Always, it was the same cycle.

Sister Solicity entered her darkened chamber and immediately went to the pulpit, which squatted beneath a softly illuminated cross.

But, there was something else…something she didn’t want to admit that also ate away at her.

Her dreams.

Dreams that had always been peaceful and soothing had turned hideous and disturbing. She found herself constantly battling impure thoughts that grew there…in the darkness of her mind…and, again, found herself doing more penance. It was taking its toll.

Solicity stepped to the pulpit, kneeled, bowed her head, and began to pray. She prayed with the fervid intensity of a martyr, and it brought perspiration to her skin. She’d never before been forced to pray so hard—and it startled her—but the more she toiled, the more engulfed she became.

Evil sought her…evil thoughts ate away at her soul…threatening to crush her very existence, if not, her faith….

Please, Lord, save me! I’m scared. Something is happening and I don’t know what to do. I feel it so very near tonight!

 

There was no longer any need for stealth. The vampyre wanted the world to know of its impending demise…wanted to taunt…to watch the world squirm—to know just who it was that was bringing about The Reformation of Ways.

It leaned against a building and waited. Someone approached, several someones, and he sensed the anger they wore. Their fear. This promised to be an exquisite feeding, and it would be a good way to begin the New World Order.

 

The group of six noisily rounded the corner, laughter and curses filling the air like crackling fire. The streets were as deserted as they were dull, and the boys craved action.

“Man, what a fuckin morgue! I think we’re doin too good a job, Ice Man, nobody’s comin out!”

“No problem, Ace, my man—we’ll just go in after em, know what I mean?” The entire gang erupted into more laughter.

“Hey, Ice, look over there, man. See him?”

Ice Man turned.

“Sure do. Maybe this night ain’t a total bust—come on!”

The rest of the gang fell into the shadows and spread out, but Ice Man strode confidently out into the street, fishing through his pockets for a cigarette. He approached the shadow.

“Hey, man, got a light?”

The stranger’s face remained cloaked in darkness. Without a word, a tiny flame sprang to life.

“Thanks man. Hey, you know it’s not too cool bein out here by yourself. You could get mugged or sumthin.”

The stranger remained silent.

“Hey’d’you hear me, man? Said it—”

“What would you like me to say?” the figure asked. It was a voice that unnerved Ice Man, who found himself unexpectedly fumbling with his cigarette. It wasn’t the confidence in the voice that scared him, he’d dealt with confidence before…it was the edge. There was an edge to this man’s words that he’d never before experienced.

Ice Man’s confidence quickly eroded and he suddenly wondered if he had made a mistake. He wondered if he had been deserted by his gang.

Nervously, his eyes shot back and forth, looking for his crew. His tongue darted between parched lips.

It was so dark…

“Nothin, man, nothin—just give me your fuckin wallet—now!

Ice Man couldn’t believe he’d blurted it out. Just like that. Like a wet-behind-the-ears amateur. But he had. He wasn’t ready, and he wasn’t even sure his crew was set up, but the words had just come tumbling out like someone else was inside him, forcing his hand.

Intentions known, there was nothing left to do but go with it—and out from the shadows came the others and Ice Man felt, once again, in control.

“Bout time, man, I was wonderin where you all been.” Ice Man shifted nervously on his feet.

“We was waitin on your signal, is all,” another said.

The stranger remained quiet.

“Come on, man, your wallet. Now!” Ice commanded.

Quiet, subtle laughter came from the dark corner.

“Come and get it, you little bastards.”

 

Sister Mary Solicity pulled the blankets up over her. She didn’t like how her praying session had gone. No sooner had she begun her intense concentration when she’d exploded up and away from her pew, her mind reeling as if punched by a room-sized fist. There was something very evil out there and it was coming for her. She was sure of it. Seeking her.

Her specifically.

Buried beneath her blankets, Sister Mary Solicity again held up her rosary and nervously began to run the beads. But as she traveled down them, the beads fell from her hands. Uttering a mild curse, she began a Hail Mary and chaotically grasped for them beneath the blankets. Her hands found her legs instead. Nestled naively between them lay her rosary.

She closed her eyes…reached for the beads…but found flesh instead.

No—

(unclean)

But couldn’t resist…

(unclean)

…felt exhilarated…

(un–)

She dropped a hand to a leg and followed the soft flesh upward.

So supple.

Struggling against the urge, Solicity bit her lips every inch of the way.

Felt muscle. Pelvis.

(so firm)

(so warm)

Then all went limp as her caresses grew stronger, more meaningful…

(unclean!)

Hail Mary, full of grace…

 

The vampyre released the boy and allowed him to drop. His face had been rubbed down to bone, just for the pure enjoyment of it, and the brick wall behind them streaked with his remains. Except for one boy, no one was left standing. One young, eyes-frozen-wide child. The vampyre went directly to him, callously kicking his way through the body parts that littered the space between them.

This is going to be better than the rest; this one is utterly saturated with fear.

The boy had been spared to watch, held there under the monster’s control to experience new, heightened levels of fear as few mortals ever had.

Taking the boy gently into his grasp, the vampyre inhaled the scent of his fear like a fine bouquet. Then he gently brushed his nose alongside a small strip of the boy’s neck—

And lowered his reddened fangs.

 

Sister Mary Solicity leaped up from her bed and into the washroom, collapsing to the floor by her tub. Sobbing, she turned on the water and waited for it to reach a scalding temperature. She removed her hands from the folds of her gown and thrust them underneath the faucet, muffling her screams. Tears poured down her cheeks. She used soap under the burning water to speed the burnishing, then removed her clothing and entered the water. She kept the pain to herself as she ran the bar of soap between her soiled

(unclean!)

(vile!)

legs.

Wash the sins.

 

The boy collapsed in the vampyre’s hands, as the vampyre ripped his fangs away from the neck. The creature inspected the wound, and satisfied cast aside the body. It had been an exemplary feeding…almost too good…and he felt that he could have easily returned to his brood with what he had gotten from tonight’s kill—but that would be too easy.

He was determined to meet destiny.

To topple the pillars of the past. He was going to do it—had to—but had fed too much. The hunger for the kill was quickly diminishing and this he would not allow. He needed to hunger.

I will have my destiny. I will lead us forward.

Extending an arm, and baring a portion of it, he ripped a gash across the length of his forearm. He watched as the boy’s blood flowed out from his artery and onto the ground. He felt the bloating of his body give way and drain. There was an inner longing, an inner fear that balked and revolted at this act…but the creature remained firm and whipped the arm around him until he began to feel faint, weakened.

Yes….

 

Sister Mary Solicity went back to bed, cowered painfully as her seared skin scraped the underside of the blankets. Her rosary lay on the bedside table and she looked to it, daring not to touch it. Sister Mary Solicity gritted her teeth. Her body burned in places she dared not think about. She had hoped shock would set in and deliver her from her misery, but that would have been too easy.

Too easy, indeed.

(penance for my sins)

(penance)

The past few months had been increasingly difficult for Sister Mary as the unclean, unchristian thoughts assailed her. She was as lost as a stray lamb. Already she had sought the advice and counsel of her Lord, Mary, and all their counterparts, but no one seemed able to stem the rising tide. She was being tested, that much was for certain, and she was determined not to fail—this she must have told herself a hundred or more times—and she’d be damned if she couldn’t prove herself worthy of her Namesake, or her Lord. The other Sisters had warned her about this in the convent, but they had said it could be overcome if only one was pure enough of thought and deed—but had it been this tough for the others? Surely if they could weather such a storm, then she, too, could weather it as well. She was sure of it….

Sister Solicity fell into troubled sleep.

 

The vampyre arrived at his destination.

He felt her there…felt her delicious torment…her fear….

He rubbed his self-inflicted wound and recalled her discovery. Months ago he had found her…and bit by bit had begun planting his seeds of corruption. She had sown them well…and now it was time for the harvest—but vampyres were repugnant of religion and all that was Holy.

Or so he had been told.

Yet…what if religion wasn’t as powerful as it was made out to be?

What if it had all been a mental thing—a lie, an artificial barrier cleverly erected by humankind to trick the darker forces from their true heritage? And what if…in this supposed New Age of thought…this barrier could be removed and destroyed—proving to all that nothing was impossible and that a New Age was indeed dawning…but for the darker forces as well?

Then there would truly be no escape for man…and the boundaries of fear would be forever and unimaginably open and unfettered. The repercussions, infinite!

The creature stood before Sister Mary Solicity’s balcony casement. He no longer needed her admittance for entry. Never had. All he had need of was her fear…and the new blood she would supply him.

Summoning his power, he confidently glided through the windows and lighted down upon Sister Solicity’s wooden floor.

He was in!

Had not required anyone else’s permission save his own!

Excitement flooded his every sense as he realized that he had already broken one of the most cardinal of all tenets.

Here was one suspicion proved false—how many others were equally false?

The vampyre approached Sister Solicity’s bed, but found himself restrained by an unexpected barrier. Quickly he searched the room. Looking above the nun’s bed, he found the source of the obstacle.

A crucifix.

Nonsense! I will not limit himself! I must transcend the legends and myths of old…must create a New Order. I must.

Retreating a step, the vampyre closed his eyes.

Lies.

Lies, all lies!

Lies to be overcome! To be pushed aside!

Untruths, falsehoods….

The vampyre opened his eyes and continued forward…but still there was the opposition. Angrily he again closed his eyes and concentrated harder.

The only limits are those we choose to accept!

Astonishingly swift the vampyre bolted forward and yanked the crucifix from the wall, his fist bashing a hole through the wall as he took it. He cocked an arm back to throw the crucifix…when he hesitated.

The cross did not burn.

It did not sear.

It was just as lifeless and dense as anything else in the material world and caused no harm.

He brought in the cross closer and sneered at its deep mahogany finish. The metallic image of Jesus on the front. In its grooved backing was a small vial of water with a black cap. Holy water.

Chuckling, he opened his hand and allowed the crucifix to drop to his feet.

Come to me, my children.

I will corrupt all that is light.

All that is right.

You are mine.

Passing a hand over Sister Mary Solicity, her blankets rolled back.

There was one sure way to violate all that was pure and righteous. One sure way, which was feared by all who wore the Cloth. His grin exposed his teeth.

Come to me, Sister….

 

Solicity floated through her dream world awaiting her lover.

Their wedding had been a most blissful affair…and tonight was the consummation. They had both only barely been able to contain themselves…but that would be necessary no longer.

Solicity wore a sheer nightgown that barely covered her secrets, secrets no man had yet known—but something wasn’t right. There was something niggling at the back of her mind—

Her husband appeared.

He wore a black robe. His face was strangely obscured, but that was okay. Dropping the robe he slid in beside her, and Solicity’s excitement grew, especially as caresses were showered upon her…touching every part of her flesh…every part of her soul…

Solicity spread apart her legs to allow her husband’s entry and her mind wheeled with a dizzied passion!

It was unsettling…she couldn’t think straight…couldn’t retain her mental balance. All she knew was that her body was screaming to her of passions undreamed of and they were feelings with which she had nothing to compare to (continuing to deny her secret masturbations…). They rivaled the grace of her faith…and still…still there was this nagging voice inside her, growing louder, louder with each moment….

 

Unclean.

 

The vampyre spread apart Sister Mary Solicity’s lily-white legs and inhaled her scent. He longed for the kill…but had labored long and hard for the harvest. He was not about to waste the moment by taking huge gulps when controlled, delicate sips would suffice.

Welcome to the New Order, Sister Mary Solicity. You should be so honored to become the Mother of the Newly Damned. The Anti-Mary.

Laughing, he shed his clothes, entered the air above her…and entered her with demonic precision…

The more blood the better…and none of it would be wasted….

 

Solicity felt the hunger of her husband’s powerful intercourse…felt the exalted stimulation of all her senses into one oblivious experience. Felt the itchiness that accompanied the organ’s internal abrading

Pain? Was it supposed to be painful

The nagging, unquantifiable specter was no longer at the back of her mind. The knowing had finally made its way through to the surface.

Solicity, you’re a nun. A Sister of Mary, Bride of Christwhat are you doing?

Sister Mary Solicity tried to throw off the body atop her, yet the man gleefully continued his violation. Sister Mary Solicity sucked in air as the man lifted his head—revealed his face.

Hello, Sister Solicity. Are you enjoying our consummation?

She saw a face pallid and evil…eyes red and blazing without pupils.

Teeth…elongated and razored.

Breath that came from the grave.

I’m so glad we could finally meet, Sister, I’ve been so looking forward to our rendezvous.

Sister Mary Solicity tried to fight, but was pinned. There was more to the attack then the body above. There was the body within.

Sister Mary Solicity screamed.

 

She had hoped that the nightmare would be over upon awakening, but this, again, would have been much too easy.

She awoke groggily to his continued defilement and disjointedly looked about herself. The pain was unimaginable…blood everywhere…her gown was torn and the scent of their sex permeated everything like an unholy death-stink.

She screamed uncontrollably, but nothing seemed to come out of her mouth. But as she continued to look about the familiar aspects of her life, she was struck by…by the pleasure her rape now seemed to afford her…of the fullness and erotica that split her open to the meat of her soul. Arms outstretched above her, she brought them down to her face.

There was blood there, too.

More around her neck.

This feels good, she realized…real good.

Continuing down with her arms, Solicity wrapped them around the body atop her.

I want more. Give me more. Give it to me!

Solicity wrapped her legs around the vampyre and pulled him in deeper.

It’s not so bad, is it Sister? There’s so much more to lifemore to deaththen either of us ever realized, isn’t there? Whoever thought the Anti-Christ would be a nun!

Sister Mary Solicity heard nothing of his words, her senses immersed in the mounting explosion within, and her screams were no longer of pain, but of passion.

She clawed the vampyre in her orgasmic rage.

Consider our new relationship consummated, Sister.

The vampyre rose from her and allowed Solicity’s legs to collapse wide.

Ah, how I love that smell, Sister. You are now mine and our New Age has dawned! There are no limitations, as I suspected!

Ecstatic, the vampyre rose to his full height, hovering in the air above the defiled nun.

But something unexpectedly hit him.

Hammered him.

Hammered him hard and without mercy…continued to grow…

Yes, something else dawned.

The sun.

The monster whipped around and looked out the casement windows, and what he saw was the topmost edge of a golden disk.

His eyes bulged.

But there are no limitationsI have proven it! I have proven it!

The vampyre watched as the sun grew in size…watched as the rays painted the landscape in hellish shades of reds and oranges.

Sister Mary Solicity lay in bed and brought her hands down to her thighs. Looked over to the vampyre, who, naked, stood transfixed before the opened window. She watched…quietly moaning to herself…watched as the sun’s morning rays broke above the windowsill and traveled up the length of the vampyre’s dark body…puffs of smoke spontaneously rising from him.

This is my New Age! Mine! There are no limitations, only legendslegends and chains!

Solicity watched as the vampyre turned to her…watched as the sun now hit him full on.

I am the Lord of

And watched as he blew up in an explosion of graveyard rot. Clumps of his corpse splattered the walls, the ceiling, and her face—

Sister Mary Solicity masturbated.

 

The Sister readjusted her habit.

She grimaced at the memories she relived, at the inquisition she had been made to endure. She had been heavily counseled and later deemed fit to resume her duties. The rape had been a test of her will by the Lord (she had been told) and she had handled it with all the strength and grace worthy of any in the Sisterhood. In fact, her status among the others had actually been elevated. She was proud to have been allowed to stay on and that she was much the better for her experiences.

She was told.

The incident had changed her for the better in ways unimaginable…everyone could see. And no longer had she any problems with

(unclean)

unchristian thoughts.

She was finally able to sleep. Her performance was better…better that anybody else’s. She possessed incredible, renewed energy.

She grinned.

Her entire body bucked. Her arms supported her at the attic windowsill. Enough was enough.

“Okay, that will be all. You may go, now,” she said flatly, and righted herself, smoothing her habit back down over her hips and legs.

The groundskeeper reeled back, exhausted, and wiped away his excess as he pulled up his pants.

“I don’t know how—”

“Silence! I bid you no conversation—you know the rules. Begone!”

The groundskeeper cinched his belt and a lustful grin formed on his face. Nodding, he picked up his tools and left. Adjusted his pants.

Sister Mary Solicity listened to his clumsy descent down the stairs and watched as he exited the building. He looked back once, over his shoulder. She’d have to punish him for that. She came closer to the window and readjusted her attire. It kept sliding off and was growing more annoying with each day. Reaching to the habit’s guimpe, she ripped it off, revealing the two small, healing puncture wounds on her neck.

Yes, there would be a New Order all right—but first, first there were going to be some changes around here…some new legends born….

 

Short Story Links

Links to all my posted short stories are here.

 

Advertisements

About fpdorchak

Paranormal fiction author.
This entry was posted in Leisure, Metaphysical, Short Story, To Be Human, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Contamination

  1. Pingback: Short Story Listing | Runnin Off at the Mouth....

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s