Abbadona

By R. A. Simons

Dana Williams felt it was not his fault that his life was a failure. He saw the world as being against him for no reason he could comprehend. He had tried becoming a priest in the Episcopal Church, tried marriage and children. ItaEUR(tm)s always easier to run than to face the disappointments when things went badly. Even preparing for a hunting trip in the Rocky Mountains with his teenage children left him lost in the wilderness. But when he stumbles into an ancient mansion that hold an even more ancient terror, he finds he can no longer simply run away. Forced to stay near the horror of an unusual vampire, he comes to realize that such fiends do exist. However, this one does not fit the usual fantasies. As they struggle to understand each other and the fate that has forced them together, they begin to find a path that gives both of them hope for their futures.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9781098036904

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Abbadona

R. A. Simons

Copyright © 2020 by R. A. Simons

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

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1

The slight breeze blew another shower of golden aspen leaves from their branches and sent them tumbling through the afternoon sunlight. Dana Williams glared at them, recalling his mother had always said a leaf shower meant a storm was coming. He eased the hunting rifle from his shoulder and rested it on the ground. All around him rose the Rocky Mountains of Wyoming. He had scoffed at the idea of a hunting guide, mostly because he could not afford one. He had assumed it would be easy to find his way around the mountains, but he had chosen to scout the area early anyway. Ruefully, he admitted he could use some sort of guide now. There was no denying it. He was lost.

Sighing, he sat down on a log. The kids were due in at the airport tomorrow. He had not seen them in nearly a month. Since the divorce, Jan had made certain his visits with them were the absolute minimum set by the courts. She never missed a chance to increase the misery of his life. This hunting trip had cost him a lot of money he could not afford, yet she had thrown a fit over it. Only the pleas of Daryl and Karen had made her consent. She certainly gave no consideration to her one-time husband’s feelings! Now he would not be at the airport to pick them up. There would be a search. Embarrassing. And Jan to face later. Why did fate always conspire against him? Why could he not find a safe hiding place where things were easy and simple?

His shadow was long in the slanting rays of the sun. As if to mock him, it emphasized his scrawny, slouching form and oversized nose. It took what little chin he had and almost eliminated it. Did even nature have to deride him? All his life, everything had been against him. He had sought refuge in service to God as an Episcopal priest only to have that fail him. Such was his life. Getting lost should come as no surprise.

He was still wandering aimlessly when night began to darken around him. In spite of the long twilight of the mountains, the day seemed to be racing away from him, abandoning him to the cold pitiless night. Worse, the clouds were drifting up, riding on a rising wind.

It was dark when he saw it. A light! A dim spark that winked through the windblown pines. Relief nearly brought tears to his eyes. Surely, it was a house, a camper or something! Stumbling through the darkening forest, he groped toward the winking spark. It was oddly dim and high, but that did not matter. Surely, it was of human origin!

He almost bumped into the house before he saw it. There was no opening in the trees. They pressed around the massive stone structure. Behind it rose a steep hill. Part of the house appeared buried in it. He hesitated, feeling a chill he could not explain. Much as he needed help, he wanted to sneak away and have nothing to do with the place. A few flakes of sleet drifted past on the wind. That decided him. Silently cursing such foolishness, he searched for a door. There appeared to be none, or at least, none that he could find in the dark. The spark of light had vanished. Again, he yearned to run away. Pushing the fear aside, he felt shuttered windows. The wood seemed dry and cracked with age. They were not nailed shut. He gave up on a door and pounded on a window.

Hello in there! Hello! I’m lost. Can you help me? Hello?

Silence answered. He tried again, pounding harder, shouting louder. Inside the window, a bar clattered to the stone casement. The shutters bounced open. There was broken glass beyond them. The scent of dust, decay, and something sickening, vaguely sweet, rushed out at him. Trying to control the irrational trembling of his hands, he struck a match. What little he could see of the room beyond dashed his hope of help.

Dust lay thickly everywhere. Spiderwebs drooped with it. Rats and mice had littered the place and shredded the upholstery of the antique furniture. The stench turned his stomach. But the sleet was coming faster. He would freeze if he stayed out. With a shudder of revulsion, he knocked the rest of the glass out and pulled himself through the window to drop into the dust on the stone floor. Fighting the impulse to get out again, he decided to go no farther. He could stay near the window and be dry. No sense in suffering more of the stench than he had to. Maybe in the daylight, he would look around. Just a deserted house. He sat down, gripping the rifle, and tried to relax. He had hiked all day, and exhaustion warred with his nerves. It was silly to be frightened by an old house. He had the rifle, in case of something like a bear. Nothing here but mice anyway. But what about the light? What could that have been?

He jerked awake with a sense of being watched. There was a very faint light in the room, for the horizon was blue with the promise of day. Belatedly, Dana realized a sound had disturbed him. It came again, a rasping breath that was half snarl. He stared across the room, eyes straining, fingers curling around the trigger of the rifle. Red shimmering eyes glinted at him from what seemed to be a human form. The dim flash of white teeth showed in a too pale face. Those teeth were bared, gnashing slowly, almost thoughtfully.

Dana jumped to his feet. Hello! He gulped, hoping the apparition would dissolve into a normal man. Didn’t mean to—

The thing moved. It paced nearer, its rasping breath coming more quickly. The teeth flashed in an unmistakable snarl. The eyes shone redder still.

Get back! I’ll shoot!

It hesitated, more in surprise than alarm. Then it swept forward. He glimpsed pale hands with thick gnarled claws as long as the fingers reaching for him. Its breath engulfed him. His fingers convulsed on the trigger, and the rifle lurched violently as its thunder exploded between them.

The bullet had no effect. The clawed hands seized him. The teeth slavered for his throat. They fell in the dust, held apart only because the rifle jammed between them. Some remnant of sanity helped Dana jerk the bolt of the gun. He fired again; the muzzle jammed against his assailant’s chest. The big powerful body jolted. Blood trickled down the gun barrel. But the thing did not falter. Its razor fangs strained for his throat. Dana let go of the rifle to throw a protective arm in front of his neck. The teeth, inhumanly sharp and fanged, sank into his arm. They struck bone and locked there. Whimpering and groaning simultaneously, the monster sucked at the wound, gulping the welling blood.

No! screamed Dana. No! In the name of God!

The brute paused, cringing slightly and whimpering. It released its bite and licked the wound, apparently unaware that its own blood was soaking both of them. It spread wet and cold through their clothing. Rising to its feet, it held Dana in arms too powerful to even struggle against. Licking its bloodied mouth, it shuddered and looked around as if expecting some sort of attack.

Outside, amid sleet-laden boughs, a bird chirped tentatively at the coming dawn. The creature turned to look, and its grip relaxed. Dana tore loose, flinging himself through the open window. He tumbled into the sleet, and its cold reality was a joy. Clawing to his feet, he fled screaming into the forest.

2

Awell-traveled trail, part of a dirt road, opened through the timber. It jarred Dana out of his panic, and he realized there was no pursuit. Gasping for breath, he stopped to listen. Only a few more birds disturbed the early morning. He hurried on down the trail, trying to make sense of what had happened. A nut case , he told himself. But the sharpness of the teeth in his arm had not been human. The power of the thing was beyond comprehension. He looked at his arm and felt a cold dread of insanity sweep over him. The sleeve was in shreds and bloodstained, but there was no wound.

Telling himself he must have imagined the teeth had reached his flesh, he hurried on. This trail had to lead somewhere! He had not traveled half a mile before another house appeared. It stopped him cold. More monsters? Surely, no sane person would live so near to whatever had attacked him! Better sneak around it, he told himself. Keep moving.

Hello, Mr. Williams.

He spun to face the voice. The words were harmless, but the tone was menacing. He tensed to run again.

No, don’t be afraid. Not of me, continued the stranger, emerging from an adjoining path. I’m not in league with that devil up the hill.

Dana fought panic. The middle-aged man before him seemed harmless. Normal. He was dressed in the clothing of an outdoor person who had some money to spend. His smile had an ominous cast to it, but it was difficult to put a word to it.

How do you know my name?

I have ways. Connections. Have to keep up on who strays onto my land.

Your land? Out here?

The stranger nodded, but it seemed a lie. Yesterday, a rowdy crowd tore down a good stretch of fence and signs. You came through the opening. Unfortunately for you, I wasn’t here to stop you. If I felt like bothering, that is.

A horrid cry, half grief, half fury, floated through the stillness. Dana jerked.

That’s your friend. They set him free or, at least, made it possible for him to get loose. He won’t come after you. You’re safe enough. For now.

Who are you? What is that—that thing?

Call me Ben. Just Ben. Your other question needs a more detailed answer. Come inside. Get dried off and have some breakfast while you still can.

But that thing!

In time. In time. Come on.

Another shriek broke the quiet.

He’ll cry a while yet, but not long. Come on in.

Wishing he had not lost the rifle, Dana nervously followed him inside the house. It, too, was stone, although of a more modern design. The living room was large, but it had an unlived-in look to it. Its furnishings were sparse, and there were no books, magazines, or clutter of any kind. The kitchen, too, was mostly bare. The distant wails followed them inside. They made Dana half sick with loathing.

I’m glad you escaped him, continued Ben in an odd tone of voice. He seemed almost to be gloating. I’m not about to get near him! At least, for a while.

But what in hell—

Very good. Correct location. Have some coffee. There’s some cereal in the cupboard there. You’ll have to make do with canned milk. Sit down. I’ll tell you what a wonderful adventure you’re embarking on.

What are you talking about? I’m going nowhere but home!

No, you’re not. That thing up there drank your blood, didn’t he? Oh, I know you don’t have any wounds now, but he licked them, I’ll wager. Heals them right up. Your sleeve is still torn and stained with blood. Tell me. Do you believe in vampires?

Of course not! I suppose there’re some psychos who think they’re vampires, but that’s all.

Well, that’s what you tangled with, and no psycho about it. He’s been locked up in that old house for almost a hundred years. Three generations of my family have kept an eye on it and him. And…kept him entertained.

Nonsense!

We’ve got a sort of arrangement. We’re his keepers, so to speak, but we can’t control him. Ben paused to chuckle. I also have an unorthodox information line. It told me your name. That you used to be to be a priest. That you copped out on your profession. Ran away from church, family, self-respect. The old boy up there isn’t very choosy about who he bites, is he?

Dana stared at him as a new wave of cold terror sank through his stomach. How could this stranger know so much about him?

Oh, there’re worse things than cowardice. Like the rowdies that broke into his prison. They like evil. Seek it out. Revel in it. Your church says that’s terrible. Actually, they’re the smart ones. They’re catching on. But never mind that. You met a genuine vampire, one who’s been starving for a century. And you let him taste your blood. That’s great! Blood of an ex-priest! Your school of divinity taught you very little about the supernatural, I’ll wager. Well, you’ll learn plenty now!

You’re crazy!

Am I? You’d better listen to me! That devil’ll hunt you now, no matter where you try to hide. Ironic, isn’t it? You thought you could hide from your God. Maybe He sent Abbadona up there after you because you can’t hide from him. No matter where you run or hide. If you don’t want to join him in his hell, you’d better find a way to fight him.

What?

Unfortunately for you, Abbadona’s no Hollywood vampire. He’s real, and no stakes through the heart are going to stop him. He doesn’t lust for the blood of beautiful young maidens. He just lusts for blood. Your blood now. If we could feel our most severe hunger, our most torturous thirst, and our most frantic need for oxygen all at once and multiply it by a thousand, we might have a vague appreciation of his blood hunger. And once he’s tasted living blood, he’s driven to pursue the person he got it from.

Come on! What is this? There’re no vampires! Besides, I’m not the only person who’s come up here. What about the people who set him free? Why isn’t he chasing them?

They came looking for him. Were sent, actually. They knew enough to clear out before sunset. Left his prison door just open enough that he would have a struggle to get out. Give them time to get away. He never got his fangs into them. No, you’re the only one he’s after now. I come up here every now and then. So do some others. Listen to him howl. Kind of amusing. He’s worse than filth, and now he’s loose. And after you.

That’s nonsense!

Go on! Hate him! If you hate him, he’ll destroy you. The menace of the vampire is very real. Especially for you, Mr. Williams.

This is all too much!

Would you choose to wrestle with Abbadona again?

Dana shuddered. No! He’s insane! And I suppose you’re going to tell me to drive a stake through his heart.

As I just said, it won’t help. Might be fun, of course. It would hurt him as much as it would you or me. It just wouldn’t kill him. Just like your bullets didn’t. Speaking of which, we should hike up and get your rifle. You can see him when he can’t get to you. See what your bullets did and that he’s still alive.

Go back there? Never!

It’s safe now that it’s getting light. Far safer than running away.

This is madness!

You must go back.

In spite of the situation, Dana made himself eat breakfast. He intended to bolt for civilization as soon as possible, and it threatened to be a long hike. By the time he finished, he was feeling a little more in control. Whatever this vampire nonsense was, the fact remained that he had dropped an expensive rifle. He had inherited it from his father and wanted to leave it to Daryl. It would be foolish not to go get it, especially considering the questionable sanity of his host. It was much lighter. Normalcy was returning.

They walked in silence up the trail. Dana was too nervous to say anything and too embarrassed to admit it. Even more embarrassing, he hated to set foot inside the house until the sun was actually up to make it movie-style safe. Ben was untroubled by his silence. He walked along with a vague, smug smile.

In the light of day, it was easy to find the door. It was thick aging wood. The ancient hinges cried in protest as it swung open. Dana could not help but agree with them. They made their way through the dim dusty halls to the room he had spent the night in. The rifle was still there. So was the monster.

He had collapsed beside the gun, his blood turning the dust to a repulsive slime. He was crying softly, whimpering like some hurt, terrified animal. Through his fear, Dana saw he was a big man, gracefully powerful and strikingly handsome. His skin was almost white, but his eyes had not lost their red glint even in the daylight. His hair was dark blond, so dark it made Dana think of ancient dusty gold.

He can’t get you now, Ben said. Morning, Abbadona. Nice day to be out.

The monstrosity that had possessed such unnatural strength struggled to lift his head. It was a relief to see it was almost impossible for him. He groaned and then cried softly. He appeared desperate to get away rather than attack.

Come on over, ordered Ben. You can learn a lot.

Revolted but afraid to refuse, Dana edged nearer.

Take a look at the bullet wounds. You really blasted his heart and lungs. Some shooting, considering what the circumstances must have been. Would any mere psycho be alive?

Dana forced himself to look closer. He shuddered, unable to believe his own eyes. Ben was right. The shots should have been instant death. Through shattered flesh and bone, a literally bleeding heart was yet beating. Torn lungs struggled for air. He whirled away, his stomach heaving. Reeling to a corner, he lost the breakfast he had just eaten. Ben chuckled and waited for him to recover.

Dana, the monster rasped as he made himself go back. The creature’s voice was barely a whisper.

Dana recoiled. The thing could talk!

I’m sorry! choked Abbadona. Sorry beyond telling you!

Oh, it talks, Ben said. Until the sun hits the house. Then he can’t even move that much. How would you like to have some fun? We can carve him up if we like. Would you believe I once cut off his head? Threw it in a corner. When night came, he was back in one piece and screaming. Should have cut his vocal cords. Might have kept him quiet a little longer.

Dana felt his stomach convulse again. How could any of this be possible? But there was no explaining away the fatal wounds and the remaining life.

Ben! hissed the thing. You’ve got to tell him! Give him a chance!

Tell me what? gulped Dana, fighting more panic.

Ben chuckled. How to fight him. Wouldn’t make any difference. A worm like you can only be a victim. That’s the only reason I brought you back up here. Just had to see your reaction. If you don’t want to play with him, get your rifle. Run if you want. It’s a stupid thing to do.

Maria! whispered Abbadona. Listen to her, Dana.

Ben idly lifted a booted foot and kicked the blasted chest. Abbadona cried out in agony and then sank back. The first beams of sunlight touched the roof.

Dana snatched up his rifle and tried to steady his nerves by squeezing his fingers around the hardwood. I’m getting out of here! This is crazy! Just crazy!

He rushed out of the house and back down the road. Surely, it continued past the smaller house! Led eventually to civilization! He rounded a bend in the path and almost cried out in joy. There was a Jeep parked in front of the house! A way out! He ran for the porch.

An aged frail woman appeared in the doorway. She leaned heavily