Behind Blue Eyes: The Good The Bad & The Blood by D. M. Wolfenden
“Why should I, Mother? I am a killer now. I feel nothing for them. This is what you have created me to be. Is this not what you wanted, a monster for a son?”
He slept all day, and then spent the nights outside, sometimes hunting, sometimes testing his skills. Elizabeth heard the terrifying screams of his victims as he fed. She followed him on some occasions, begging him not to kill, but he ignored her pleas. He was not killing just to feed. Now he was enjoying himself. Once she saw him staring at a man who was dragging a child by the arm. The boy appeared to be around six years old. He was crying, asking for his mommy.
Cain approached the man, his face expressionless. “What are you doing to that child?”
The man glared at Cain.
Cain gazed into the darkest part of the man’s soul and shuddered. “Let the child go.”
“Piss off,” he snarled as he opened his jacket exposing a large carving knife tucked in his belt. He snorted, brushing past Cain.
Cain grabbed the man by the throat. The man let go of the child to punch out at his attacker, only to scream out in pain as his fist made contact with an unmovable jaw. Cain squeezed the throat harder, the man’s fingers and nails clawing at his hand. He looked down at the cowering child and asked, “Do you know this man?”
The man’s face was turning crimson as he struggled to breath and speak past the constriction of Cain’s vice-like grip. His hand was desperately feeling for the knife that was no longer there. “He’s…my…son!”
Cain turned and looked at him, eyes almost black. He felt the evil radiating from the man. He tightened his grip around the man’s throat. “Quiet.” Turning back toward the boy, he asked again, “Do you know this man?”
The boy shook his head. No.
Elizabeth watched the boy, his body trembling while trying to wipe the tears away from his grubby face with his hands. His sobbing made her hold her breath. Her whole body tingled and goose bumps appeared on her arms.
Cain turned and looked toward the trees. “You can come out now, Mother. I know you’re there.”
Elizabeth slowly approached, looking from the child to the man in Cain’s grip. “Let him go, Cain. You don’t have to do this. The child is safe now.”
Cain didn’t take his eyes away from his victim. “Take the child away, Mother.”
“Cain, please,” she begged.
Cain’s body shuddered, his eyes closing and lips parting slightly. He let his head roll back, the pain of the pleasure running deep through his body. “Now, Mother. Or do you want him to witness this?”
The man, seeing a flash of fangs, seemed to shrink in Cain’s grip. Slight whimpering noises were escaping his lips.
Elizabeth gently picked up the weeping boy, all the time looking back at Cain. She put a reassuring smile on her face. “Can you tell me where you live?”
The child pointed straight ahead. His sobbing eased off, but the look of fear was still there. Elizabeth walked away as quickly as she could. Seconds later, horrifying screams came from behind her. The child cowered in Elizabeth’s arms.
“You are safe. No one will hurt you,” she whispered. “Put your hands over your ears.”
***
That night gave Elizabeth renewed hope that there was something left of her once so compassionate and caring son. She decided to talk to him about it. When she entered Cain’s room she saw the maid, Grace, lying dead at the foot of the bed. It had been Grace’s nineteenth birthday that day.
“Oh, no, Cain! Oh, God, no! Not Grace. What have you done?”
Mary’s chain with the gold St Christopher on it was lying next to her. It was covered in blood and bits of flesh. Elizabeth picked it up. She had given Grace the gold necklace only the day before.
“Why, Cain? What did she ever do to deserve this?” She knelt beside the girl and brushed her hair from her face. She wanted to howl in despair. “This wasn’t just to feed. Look! Look at what you did to her.” She stood up and approached her son, her body tense. “You are pure evil.” Elizabeth threw the chain in Cain’s face. “May God forgive me for what I’ve done.”
Cain looked at the horror in his mother’s face. He looked down, his face contorting at the sight before him. He didn’t remember doing that to her, mutilating her like that. Did I really lose that much control?
Grace had been flirting with Cain for months. Last night she had come to his room on the pretence of being unable to access it to clean it earlier in the day. She was wearing her maid’s uniform, but the top had not been fastened, showing off part of her cleavage. He remembered chuckling to himself about that as she entered. Grace had made it obvious that she wanted him. She had been trying to get his attention for such a long time. Well, she had gained his full attention all right. And he wanted her, wanted her blood.
His mother ran from his room. Cain got up and carried Grace’s mutilated body to the bed where he wrapped her in the sheets.
This is wrong. I should not have hurt her. She did not deserve this. “I’m so sorry,” he muttered.
He stared at the blood and bits of flesh, unable to take his eyes from it. I am a monster.
Once he had cleaned up the blood and gore, he took Grace’s body to the garden to bury it. Just as he began digging a hole, he smelt smoke. He looked up and saw his mother surrounded by flames. She was throwing pieces of broken furniture on to a larger pile of burning wood. The crackling and popping sent embers into the air. He sniffed the air, smelling and tasting the alcohol that mingled with the smoke. “No!” he screamed.
He ran to her. Liquid dripped from her sodden hair and clothes, pooling at her feet. “Mother, what are you doing?”
“Please forgive me, Cain. I never wanted this for you. You do not know what it was like watching you dying in front of me. I know it was selfish of me, but I thought you would be able to cope with this life with me to guide you. I cannot bear seeing you like this, seeing what you have become. I am sorry for what I have done to you.” Elizabeth threw herself into the leaping orange and yellow flames.
“No! Mother, stop!” he shouted. He dragged her out of the fire, desperately trying to put out the flames, but her clothes and hair were almost completely gone. Her skin looked like it was melting off her.
She looked in his eyes and put her hand on his face. “Please, Cain. I cannot live like this. I thought you would be able to control it. I should have let you die. I don’t have the strength within me to end your life. I hope the Lord can forgive me for that.”
“Quiet now, Mother, you need to rest. Everything will be all right. I will take care of you.”
“You need to let me go.”
“Mother, no. Please, I will change. I will try. I will do whatever you ask of me.”
“It’s too late, Cain.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“I’m sorry, Mother. We can try again. Don’t leave me alone.”
“I can’t do this any more,” she gasped, “I can’t live with my conscience. I have changed you so much.” She looked at her son, but she could not see anything left of the boy who had brought so much joy to her life. “Please forgive me, Cain. I love you.” Elizabeth pried herself out of Cain’s arms and walked back into the roaring furnace.
“I forgive you,” he whispered as he watched his mother disappear into the flames.
***
Cain stayed there, staring at the fire until it was nothing but ash. Carefully, he removed his mother’s charred remains from the dying embers. He buried her and Grace together, the chain of Grace’s St Christopher necklace linking their hands.
He could not stay at the house after his mother’s death. All he could think of was the vampire, Vasile, the one who had turned his mother. If he ever found him, he would kill him. And he would find him one day, no matter how long it took. Vasile would pay for what he did to his mother, and to himself.
Chapter 7
It had been a week since his mother died, since he had last fed. He could not put it off any longer.
Cain w
He was too late; the farmer died a few seconds later. Cain screamed with rage. How could he have allowed this to happen? He had promised his mother, but he was a monster, a beast cursed to walk amongst the living. He did not feed for the next two weeks. He was ravenous, and the rage was taking over.
He spotted an elderly woman walking the dark night streets, alone. He followed her, watching the pulsing veins in her neck. The old woman entered a dwelling. He checked the door, and found it to be unlocked. He listened until he was sure she was alone. He rushed toward the old lady, biting down savagely, tearing at the flesh of her neck. The hunger and rage started to pass, his senses returned and he managed to pull himself off her as her heartbeat began to speed up. But he had waited too long to feed. He hated himself for his lack of control as he saw the old woman would not survive the injuries to her neck.
His next victim fared a little better. As the heart started to speed up, Cain stopped feeding and waited a few seconds to try and pull his thoughts together. The young man was now very weak so Cain personally cared for this victim for the next twenty-four hours, not leaving his side until he was sure he would survive.
He wondered if he had finally learned to control himself, and he hoped against hope that this was so. He vowed he would not kill another human for their blood. He felt proud of his first success. Instead of letting his rage rule his life he could take control and start to live again.
He traveled to all the major cities in England. There was no sign of any other vampires, let alone Vasile. He couldn’t believe he was the only one of his kind in Great Britain. He became frustrated with the fruitless task and decided to widen his search.
Cain arrived in the Scottish Highlands two years after his mother’s death. He found the highlands to be rugged and remote, with great areas of untamed wilderness. He stopped in Alladale and took in the view that remained of the once great forest of Caledonia at the foot of the steep slopes of Glen Alladale. The rest of the glen and surrounding area was dotted with trees. He found the remoteness and purity of the place breathtaking, and the stress and strains of his past seemed, if only for a moment, to disappear.
He had almost given up hope of ever finding Vasile, or any other vampire, when he felt a presence, and it was not human. He had felt them before, but that feeling had always lasted less than a couple of seconds and came to nothing; no one was ever there. This time the feeling lasted.
A young woman with long, curly red hair was watching him from the trees. Cain approached her cautiously.
“Don’t come any closer!” she yelled at him and started to back away.
He immediately stopped moving and held his hands up to show he meant no harm. He felt another presence before he heard its booming voice.
“Morvin, I’m here. You, stranger, turn around and leave now. We do not want the likes of you here.” A man with a large bushy beard appeared in the trees and the female ran to his side.
Cain had seen few men who matched the male’s girth. He easily made two of Cain, and he must have been around six feet tall. The female looked like a child when she stood next to him.
“I mean no harm. I come seeking a vampire named Vasile.” Cain watched as the female cowered at the name. The male put his arm around her as if to comfort her.
“And why do you seek him? What makes you think he is here?” the voice boomed out.
Cain lowered his hands. “I am going to kill him.”
The large male roared with laughter. “Is that right?” He looked Cain up and down as he walked toward him, protectively holding the female close to his side. “You had better come with us before you let the whole of the country know what we are.”
Cain followed the pair until they entered a small dwelling just outside the woods.
The old cottage was dark, the only light coming from a small window. Morvin lit two gas lamps, revealing old furniture in the living area. Two comfy looking chairs were in front of an open fire, and two old wooden chairs were against the back wall of the room. Cain’s eyes opened wide when he spotted the coffin standing up against the outside wall.
The large man gestured to Cain to sit in one of the comfy chairs while he sat in the one opposite. Morvin sat on one of the chairs at the back wall. She did not speak, but she looked unsettled by the situation.
“I’m Haygarth and this is Morvin.” Morvin did not move or speak while Cain looked at her. “So, young vampire, what is your story?” Cain looked quizzically at Haygarth, who answered his unspoken question. “If you had been a vampire for a while, you would know better than to have said those things where it could be overheard.”
“I am Cain, and the only other vampire I have known was my mother.” Haygarth nodded his head. Cain looked over at the coffin, then back to Haygarth who had a slight grin on his face. “What’s the coffin for?”
Haygarth gave a slight chuckle as he shook his head. “You have been watching too many films. Do you sleep in a coffin?”
Cain gave a quick shake of his head. Come out with the dumbest question you can think of. Fool! He felt his face getting warm as he shuffled in his seat.
Haygarth watched him with amusement. “Why do you seek to kill Vasile?”
Cain told them his story, about what Vasile did to his mother, and how he would pay for his actions.
Haygarth listened with interest. At the end, he told Cain about his and Morvin’s encounter with Vasile. “It was five years ago. Morvin was foraging in the woods when Vasile approached her. I was already a vampire and felt his presence, and tracked him down as fast as I could. As he came into view I saw him beating her. I lunged for him. He didn’t even know I was there. He was too focused on hurting her.” He looked at Morvin, his eyes full of sorrow. “He was like a wild animal, and fast, very fast. It took everything I had to stop him.”
He looked back at Cain, who was still looking at him, but with a lowered head. “She was bleeding to death in front of me, and I wanted to save her. I knew the risks of turning someone into our kind, but I could not let her die.” He turned and lovingly gazed into Morvin’s eyes. “I had loved her from afar for a long time.”
Cain’s head shot up. “The risks?”
“You can never be sure how people will react to being turned. She could have turned out like him.” He then smiled at Morvin. “I was lucky. She is perfect, just like she always was.”
Morvin got up and walked over to Haygarth. She gently stroked his cheek before planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “And so are you, my love.”
“Do you know where Vasile is now? Have you heard anything about him?”
“Vampires are recluses. We generally do not mix well with others. Most do not travel as he does. We need to keep our kind a secret in order to survive. He could be anywhere now. Europe, Asia—he doesn’t stay anywhere too long. The trail of bodies he leaves behind would draw too much attention to him if he did.”
Cain dropped his head and stared at the floor. His whole body radiated despair. Haygarth’s words had shown him the enormity of his task. Morvin looked at her husband, her eyes pleading for him to help.
Haygarth smiled at her and continued. “My creator, Ivan, lives in Korpilombolo, Sweden. Maybe he can help you. Ivan seems to know all that happens in the vampire world.”
Cain looked
“I cannot say for sure, but if anyone can help, it will be him. He’s a wee bit eccentric, and over 600 years old, but he’s a good man. He likes to travel, so there are no guarantees he will be there.”
“Can I ask why he turned you?”
Haygarth leaned close to Cain with his face just inches away. “To save my life, so I could kill more English,” he growled.
Cain’s body stiffened. Is this a trap? I bite back, big man.
Haygarth laughed when he saw the worried look on Cain’s face. “I’m joking, boy. I’m not that old.”
They spent a pleasant evening together. When Cain said his farewells in the morning Haygarth gave him a letter to give to Ivan, in the hope that he would be there when Cain reached Korpilombolo.
***
In December 1950, Cain arrived at the tiny, remote village of Korpilombolo. He was tired and hungry, paler than normal, with dark circles under his eyes. None of the residents spoke English or French, but Cain had an uncanny feeling that they knew what he was. The inexplicable feeling was reinforced with each encounter. Their eyes seemed to bore into his very core. Most of the locals, even though they did not understand his language, pointed toward a field on the outskirts of the village, sometimes even before he spoke.
Cain’s feet crunched through the snow-covered field and the vast whiteness of the area ground on his soul. He was about to turn around and head back to the village when a house came into view. A shiver went through him. He could feel their presence, other vampires, at least two, maybe three. He wasn’t certain how many.
The front door opened before Cain could knock. No one stood there and Cain could not see beyond the darkened opening. “Hello?” he called.
“Come in,” a shaky voice replied.