Prologue
Archer Cemetery, 1973
Tom Payton watched the mourners. He hadn't imagined going to the funeral; he didn't want to interfere. Something had happened a decade ago when President John F. Kennedy was assassinated. He had left Dallas, Texas, thinking he was dead as well.
America had lost its innocence that day, and Tom knew, deep down, he had to 'find himself'.
And that was what he did.
****
Chapter One
'Brad'.
'Yes, Jen'.
'Someone's watching us'.
'Don't freak out, babe. Besides, you're with me'.
'And'.
'And you're...'.
Shadows formed in the night sky.
The Mistress of the Vampires appeared.
And the screams begun.
***
Sheriff Edward Koppel smoked a cigarette. He had a grim look on his face. The crisis in Washington, DC, over the last couple of years when the Watergate break-in happened on June 17, 1972, meant that there was no faith in society. He ate a doughnut, and sipped his warm coffee. He stared at the dead bodies of the young, hippie couple.
'They were bled dry, Sheriff', Doctor Jane Hass, MD, stated.
'Vampires'.
'Do you believe in them?', the Doctor asked him.
'Yes', the Sheriff answered.
He wasn't lying about it, as the two bodies were photographed by the Coroner...and taken away to the Archer Cemetery Morgue.
***
Natalie Schaeffer stared at the bed.
'Mom! Are you alright?', she asked her.
She was deathly pale.
The Washington Post newspaper was lying on the table. It was about the break-in the Democratic National Building; it was diabolical in its nature. Natalie saw her red eyes, and she smiled evilly. She screamed, as she didn't have any Holy Water. The nearest Catholic Church was off 132nd Street, and 7th Avenue in New York. Father McNally, the Irish Priest, she knew from her baptism seven years' ago, was a distant memory.
She saw the blood come down her mother's mouth.
The dead body of her father lay on the pastel colored carpet near the bed in the middle of the small room; the Grandfather clock was in the hallway, a light illuminated her bedroom to her left.
Natalie imagined that if vampires were in town, they would be hard to get rid of. She ran to the front door, grabbed her keys, and purse. And raced to the Church. She hoped that she wasn't too late before the horror started.
***
Gorman Frazier stood near the Catholic Church. He swigged a tattered brown bag that was full of Jack Daniels. He drank until he vomited in the toilet of the Men's Restroom. He drank some water to cleanse the bile from his mouth. It was as if he was being punished for his sins; he focused on the lever and washed the vomit away. Then he staggered away towards the cemetery, as he saw Sandor Press, the caretaker, was lying drunk near the old graves.
He was snoring.
'Get the hell up!', Gorman yelled.
The caretaker wasn't moving.
'Shit!', Gorman said.
He went through one of the open Iron Gates, and fled into the streets. He was home before his wife shouted at him.
***
Lyall Moore smoked a joint. He was thinking about the time Ry Nathanson was drafted into Vietnam; he didn't want to know that he was going to the murky depths of the jungles, where death was instantaneous. The political climate was full of insane people, and President Richard M. Nixon was on the edge of oblivion. Lyall, a young, well read artist, and writer, gazed at the college. He looked at the girls who wore skivvies, flares, and had a dreamy, far away look on their young faces. A girl who who wore glasses, watched him.
'Lyall, is that you?', Anne Morrow asked him.
'Yes. You're the librarian's assistant, aren't you', Lyall answered.
'Yes, it pays the bills since I have a small apartment off 131st and 7th Avenue', she said.
'Yeah, what's your favorite novel?'.
'Dracula, by Bram Stoker'.
'Ah, a classic of the gothic horror genre in the 19th Century'.
'Yes. Do you want to go on a date? It's apartment 236'.
'Okay, I'll write it down. Good bye, Anne'.
'Good bye, Lyall'.
And he walked away from her.
***
'Cal'.
'Yes'.
'Did you hear something?', Mara asked him.
'No', Cal answered.
'For Christ's sake, I hear something'.
Cal, who was watching 'The Honeymooners' on TV, shook his head. He looked out of the window of the moderately sized loungeroom; he was seeing Jackie Gleason was being comical, as the scene in black and white progressed. Cal sighed. 'I don't see anything', he said.
He glanced at Mara.
'But I saw someone-'.
'No one's here, babe'.
Then he saw shadows hover across the house, and the cold weather became tomb-like.
***
'For Christ's sake, Eddie, this is my story. An exclusive with M. T. Holder. The multi-millionaire'.
'Look, babe, this is incredible. No one's gotten near him because he's reclusive'. Francine shook her head.
'Be careful, Francine', Eddie said.
'I will be. I'll be in the office tomorrow. Good bye'.
'Good bye'.
And she hailed a taxi, as it started to rain heavily.
***
The grave digger, Roland Kipper, shook his head. He had seen the dogs hovering above the body of Thomas Blake, the former caretaker. He was drained of blood. Two bite marks were on the ripped neck. He saw three mourners were crying near their relative's grave.
'What happened?', Ellis Weiner asked him.
'Vampires', Roland answered.
'Vampires. You've read Bram Stoker too many times, mate', Ellis said. He had a British accent.
'You're from England'.
'Yes, London actually, on vacation'.
'Oh, I see'.
'It is important to leave now, or else the Master Vampire will come'.
'The Master Vampire'.
'Yes, He is here in the town of Archer', Roland said.
And Ellis shivered with horror.
***
Tom waited.
He had been going to the Restroom. He washed his hands, and looked out of the window. He saw a woman ordering an Ice Tea, and a blue berry muffin. '$5.00', the waitress said. She gave her a $10 note, and tip. Then she turned around. 'Thomas, is that you?', Deana Short asked him.
'Yes', he answered.
He hadn't met her for a long time.
'You're in America now, Deana'.
'Yes, I got a job as a secretary in town'.
'That's wonderful. Do you want to want to have some dinner?', Tom asked her.
'I'd like that', Deana answered.
And she kissed him.
***
The darkness of the hour took its toll on those who lived in the town of Archer. The bright lights illuminated the dim roads; the New York lights came on. Thomas walked towards the cemetery. For a long time, there was a swirling fog. It came from the Catholic Church nearby; the wailing howls of the dogs was loud, and incessant. 'Get the hell out of here', Bert Sykes yelled. He gazed at the road. Something got his attention.
Bert, a fifty year old man, shivered.
Drunks were asleep on the cold steps. Several police men arrived. 'Move on! Move on!', they yelled. Bert watched the shadows. He backed away. As he did so, the Master Vampire bared his fangs, and fed on his neck. 'Argh!', Bert screamed. Once his body thudded onto the concrete near the wrought-iron gates of the cemetery, he slumped next to the vampire's black boots, as it fed hungrily until it was sated.
***
Tom Payton yawned.
He walked to the Westcott Arms Hotel. He walked to the front stone steps. An African-American porter was smiling at him. 'Need some help, Sir? I'm Edward Marks'.
'Tom Payton. I am here in Archer for a month or two. Maybe more, if I meet a woman. The usual romantic problems. Anyway, here is my luggage'. He was glad that the Motel was not far away from the old apartments he lived in back in the mid-1960's. The Civil Rights Movement, and anti-Vietnam War protests, were blighting America; the war was horrible, and horrific.
He walked to the Reception Area.
A woman was manning the telephones at the desk.
'Yes'.
'Good evening. I like to stay for a month. My name is Tom Payton'.
'$2,000'.
He looked at her, and nodded.
'Credit card will do. American Express'.
'Sure. Here is the keys'.
'Thank you', he said.
Once he paid, a porter arrived.
'Room 457a for Mister Payton, Sandor'.
'Yes, I will go to the room now'.
Tom smiled at the woman, and walked to his room that was on the fourth floor of the Motel.
He grabbed the key, and opened the door.
'You can eat in the Dining Room Restaurant, Sir'.
'Thank you, Sandor'.
And he tipped him.
Sandor smiled, and left the room to attend to other duties.
***
Becky Dall sat on one of the chairs.
She saw Tom at table 3.
'Excuse me, but would you like to have dinner with me? I'm Becky', she answered. Tom nodded.
'Sure, I'll tell the waitress'.
And he spoked to her, as other hotel guests arrived for dinner.
***
Natalie looked at the window.
She was afraid now.
The door creaked.
She heard the sound of sucking sounds.
She screamed as a vampire girl bared her sharp, little fangs.
Blood dripped down the pale, dead monster's mouth.
'The Master is coming. The Master is coming'.
Natalie screamed, and fled the house in terror.
***
Sheriff Edward Koppel was angry.
'More deaths. This is a nightmare'.
He smoked a cigarette, as he walked amongst the graves of the cemetery. As he did so, he saw Vince Capp, the caretaker, was drunk. He looked like death. 'Get up, you idiot', the Sheriff said.
No reaction.
He sighed, and dark, threatening clouds hovered above the wrought-iron gates. It was 6:30 PM.
***
Martin Rhymer gazed at the grave.
He dug it up with a shovel.
There was a loud thumping sound.
He turned around, and saw the Master Vampire.
'Come to me, Martin'.
And he nodded, as the vampire bit into his neck...and drained his blood with its fangs.
***
Lionel Brickell arrived in the town of Archer.
The time was 7:00 PM.
He was hungry.
He booked a taxi from the Airport.
'Take me to the Wescott Arms Hotel, please'.
'Sure, it's ten minutes from here'.
'Great. Here's $100, for the tip too'.
'Thanks, Sir'.
And Lionel closed the passenger-side door of the taxi, and put his seatbelt on. Then he relaxed, as he was glad to see America.
***
The shallows of the Hudson River was in the majestic city of New York. The water wasn't tainted, nor blighted, by blood. Vic Harris smoked a cigarette. The man was watching his parents. 'Where're you going to?', he asked his father. 'Archer. It is two miles away from Staten Island', he answered. He sighed. Dinner was hamburgers and fries, and coffees.
He looked at the waiting black limousine.
'Time to go Mister Harris'.
'Okay, Frederick'.
And Vic followed them into the limousine.
The rain came downward, and drenched them.
***
The woman was dead.
That was a fact, not made up.
Inspector Regan McConnell shook his head.
He wore a coat, flared trousers that were grey colored, a wrist watch on his left hand, black socks, a wedding ring on his right, middle hand, and gloves. His shoes were polished, and free of mud. For awhile, the internal pressures of crime in New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles, was miles away from Archer, a strange little town outside the City that never sleeps.
'Need help, Inspector?', Doctor Jane Hass, MD, asked him.
'Yes, something is wrong in this town', the Inspector answered.
'Do you believe in the supernatural?'.
'No'.
'You should. I believe in ghosts, and vampires. And Werewolves'.
'Okay. Let's help each other'.
And he nodded.
***
Father McNally walked to the Altar.
'My fellow worshippers, it is the Devil that's come into the town. An evil that is here in Archer; an evil that has come from Hell itself. For centuries, everyone has demanded that Satan be vanquished, and His followers be thrown out of the abyss; that the abyss is filled by death, and disease. God, and Jesus Christ, served all of us; God is powerful, as His Son on Earth was. Don't let those who walk here in sin prepare for damnation. Amen!'.
'Amen!', the worshippers said.
And the Father grabbed the King James Bible in his right hand, and begun to pray in silence for the next ten minutes.
It was 6:45 PM.
***
K. L. Moss gazed at the bright sky.
It was dark now.
He kissed his girlfriend, Jenny Carters.
'Wait! I heard a sound. Someone's here!'.
'Look, babe, no one's here except us'.
'How do you know?', Jenny asked him.
'I'm your man, babe', K. L. answered.
Suddenly the shadows loomed over the 1961 car.
K. L. stopped kissing Jenny.
He opened the driver's-side door with his hands.
Then he looked around.
The cheap black sign read: ARCHER CEMETERY ONE MILE LEFT. He saw the fog descending on the car; the Lover's Lane sign was to the right. The shadows lengthened; the fog came towards him, as if in a lover's embrace. But there wasn't any romantic kind of love he saw; there was just horror. He watched the car. Something was scaring him.
He turned around, and shivered.
Then he heard the screaming, as Jenny saw a female vampire bite K. L.'s neck. Flesh ripped, as blood gushed like a geyser onto the ground. She yelled, and then drove away from Lover's Lane, and reported her boyfriend was dead at the Police Station. It was 7:00 PM.
***
Natalie was eating dinner.
The lamp was on, as she read her book. Homework was done, and the shining lights in the windows was cold; more lights illuminated the dim hallway. She hadn't imagined that talk of vampires had caused her to shiver. The heater kept her warm; her face was etched in misery.
She saw a black carriage outside.
It was owned by the former owners of the house.
Bradley John Semper, Jr., was his name.
The story was he became known as a dabbler in the occult. Unearthly screams was heard in the house back in the 1930's during the Great Depression. Because of the 1929 Wall Street crash there was a lot of suicides, and murders. Crime was rising, and everyone was scared of gangsters in the city of Chicago. The rumors of West German Nazis using the supernatural as a way to force unbelievers to serve the Third Reich was in the history books she had read.
Other rumors was that the Nazis dealt with vampirism.
Natalie didn't think so, it became something of a problem as the decades progressed; it was now nineteen seventy-three. She saw the fog. She froze. She heard the light rapping on the cold windows. Outside, in the darkness, a girl was pale.
'The Master is coming! The Master is coming!'.
Natalie grabbed a crucifix in her right hand.
'Go away! Or die!', she uttered.
It hissed at her, and the vampire backed away, before disappearing in the fog.
***
Karen Moore was kissing her boyfriend, Tod Lower. The United States Army officer was going to the barracks in the morning. He smoked a cigarette. The moon was full in the dark sky. 'Do you have to go?', Karen asked him. 'Colonel Markham is ordering us to fight the Soviets. They're the enemy. I'm working for President Richard Nixon. Dad fought for President Dwight Eisenhower in the 1950's. The Korean War ruined his retirement plans. It wasn't until 1956 when he did stop working. Wars are bad at the best of times', Tod answered.
'What about the vampires?'.
'I don't believe in them', Tod stated.
And he kissed her.
***
Roland waited.
By 8:45 PM, the mid-evening moon glowed in the sky.
He was yawning, as he watched his favorite movie on TV.
It was 'Wait Until Dark', with Audrey Hepburn, and Alan Arkin. The 1967 horror movie was a departure for the actress, as her movies were comedies, or light drama films. The ad break was on. He went to the restroom. After he flushed the toilet, he washed his hands. And dried them on a red towel that was on the left, silvery colored rack on the walls. He opened the door, as the light was turned on in the dim hallway. He walked to the door, and saw shadows outside his house. Something was amiss, he thought to himself; something that became undefinable as the night progressed.
Roland lit up a cigarette.
The fiery embers burned his left, little finger.
'Damn!', Roland sighed.
He washed his finger with water in the faucet.
There was a small, red mark.
It throbbed.
He waited for the sensation of pain to ease.
He headed towards the loungeroom.
And sat down, to watch the rest of the movie.
***
'Edward'.
'Yes'.
'There's something wrong here in Archer', Stephanie said.
'About what?', Edward asked her.
'Vampires', Stephanie answered.
'They don't exist', Edward said.
And he sipped his warm coffee.
***
The girl was asleep.
She heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. She opened them. 'Mom!', she said.
The bright moon's glow hit the glass windows.
She got up off the seat.
She focused on the door.
It led to the hallway.
As she did so, she noticed the window was ajar.
She saw the road led to the cemetery.
'Hello. Who is there?', she asked.
There was only silence, by way of an answer.
Shadows came over her.
Three vampires glided near the window, and she screamed.
***
Doctor Jane Hass, MD, focused on the dead body of the man. He was drained of color, and was pale as death. Two bite marks were on the ripped neck, in a savagery that was disturbing. 'He died from anemia', she stated. The Coroner, Doctor Lowell Christian, MD, nodded.
'Massive blood loss. I haven't seen cases like this in a long time'.
'Vampires'.
'Yes, vampires'.
'Well, you have to believe in the Un-dead, and think outside the box. We need to report this to the Sheriff'.
And that was what they did.
***
'Look, babe. This is not a good time to bailing out on me', Chris Holder said. He wrapped his arms around Jenny Gordon's waist, and kissed her. 'Don't! Danny will see us together...'.
'Danny Borcher'.
'Yes'.
'The thug'.
'He is...overprotective'.
'He is psycho'.
The cars were full in Lover's Lane.
Before either of them could react, the rain came downward. Thunder and lightning created a lightshow of terror that wreaked havoc. Trees came down on the road, and everyone screamed in horror.
Danny Borcher arrived on the scene.
He wore a purple skivvy, blue flares, and black socks. His eyes were blue. In his right hand was a flicker knife, and it was sharp.
'Get the hell out of the car, Jenny. Or else, you're dead'.
'Danny!'.
'Get the hell out...now...Or else, I'll slice the boyfriend's throat'.
'Hey, it's fine, Danny. You got out of Juvenile Hall'.
'Shut it, lover boy'.
'Okay! Okay'.
He walked out of the 1966 psychedelic van.
'This isn't the way...'.
'She is my girl. Not yours'.
And he laughed, and cut his left finger.
Chris screamed, as blood spilled downward.
He ran away to the phone booth, and called 9-1-1.
'Police, please. Danny Borcher attempted to kill me while I was on a date with Jenny Gordon. This is Chris Holder. Hurry!'.
And he waited until they arrived before more people were dead, dying, or injured.
It was 9:30 PM.
***
Sheriff Edward Koppel got out of the police car.
'Danny Borcher. The Archer gangster. It seems you're going back to the Mooreland Psychiatric Hospital', he said.
'I'm not going back there', Danny said.
He looked at the Sheriff, and knew it was dangerous to say anything.
He was handcuffed, and was taken away on charges of attempted murder, assault, and threats to kill.
'This isn't over, Chris', he warned.
He smiled, as he was taken away to the Hospital.
***
Karen Moore watched the news.
She looked at the picture of Hal Rook, the TV anchor. He had short, black hair, blue eyes, and tall. He wore a shirt, a tie, and was twenty-five. He was married. His wife, Margaret Rook, twenty-three, was a school teacher at Arch High School. She had short, brown hair, blue eyes, and average height. She wasn't like one of the hippies of the 1960's, and 1970's; she was concerned about what her conservative parents thought about their only daughter if she did drugs, and lived in a commune. Karen knew Margaret, and she wouldn't dream of embarrassing them.
She ate pizza, and garlic bread.
She looked at the Grandfather clock.
Then she went to the Restroom.
And washed her hands, and dried them on the black colored towel. Then she opened the door, closed the light, and went to bed. She closed the doors, and made sure no one would attack her. She put the empty food into the trash bin, and drained the Coke glass into the kitchen sink, then she smiled. Karen headed to her bedroom. She flicked on the light, and went inside. On the bed was a copy of her favorite book The Haunting of Hill House, the 1959 gothic horror classic by Shirley Jackson. She had seen the 1963 Robert Wise movie at the Drive-In with Brad Roberts, her fraternity brother boyfriend, and watched it during Saturday nights when she was alone; she was terrified by it. The darkness of the house, and the threat of evil, caused her blood to run cold. In her mind, the ghosts of the book wasn't like the vampires in the Cemetery.
Karen yawned, and slept soundly for the rest of the evening.
It was 10:30 PM.
***
The time was 11:00 PM.
One hour until the Witching Hour.
Deanne Parker gazed at the cold windows.
She locked the windows, and doors.
She yawned, then she brushed her teeth.
And went to bed.
***
It was Midnight.
Long, dark shadows hovered above the town of Archer.
People were asleep, unaware of the growing darkness that came over the houses, roads, and the Cemetery; a darkness that infected everyone. The Vampire Master smiled. In its pale, right hand was a black dog. 'Go forth, and feed'. The monster walked away. It headed to the rotten graves. Its teeth was sharp; its eyes was a glowing red color.
Blood spilled down the wrought-iron gates.
'Soon, it will be time', the Master said.
The dog fed on a body of a dead man.
Then it vanished into the thick fog.
The Vampire Master turned away, and headed to its house that was closed up in the gloom.
***
Mike Franklin smoked a cigarette.
He savored the taste.
Kara Lowe, his girlfriend, was asleep.
He hadn't imagined what had happened.
The rumors of the Un-dead filling his mind.
It was clouded in all kinds of scary images.
'Kara! Kara!'.
'What is it?', she asked him.
'Vampires in town', Mike answered.
'Really, they don't exist'.
'I saw them in the Cemetery', Mike shouted.
'They don't exist, babe'.
And then the shadows formed across the windows.
And the screaming begun.
***
The rain fell down.
Colin Masterton looked around at the Cemetery.
The dead body of the caretaker was full of bite marks on his ripped neck. Colin yelled, and fled in horror.
It was Midnight.
***
Overnight, the darkness consumed the town of Archer.
The vampires had taken over.
And the Un-dead rose the next evening.
***
To be continued....
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