Crimson pact, p.1
Crimson Pact, page 1
CRIMSON PACT
by S.R. Kain
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter One
The conflicts of the past bleed the innocence of the present. The Sun shone on this summer day in Tunisia, close to the Mediterranean Sea. An occupied tour bus rolled along the Algerian-Tunisian border. Most tourists snapped photographs with their mobile phones. The 21-year-old tourist, Zoya, used her professional-grade digital camera while sitting at the rear of the bus, wearing a t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts. Rays beamed on her, making brownish-gold skin appear more golden than normal.
The Ethiopian girl captured images, looking through her dark sunglasses. A cool breeze from the sea blew through her cornrow braids to offset the blazing heat. The bus turned onto the Tunisian side of the border as the tour guide announced, “Do not let the border fool you. We are still in what was once Numidia.” Zoya and her fellow tourists took more pictures as they rode through the coast. He continued, “In the early eighth century, Imazighens, led by Queen Kahina, defended this land from Arab invaders.”
“Did she win?” Zoya asked.
“No. Kingdoms rise and fall. Some rise again.”
Zoya captured one more image, then stored her camera and lens. For the rest of the tour, she basked in the Sun. The bus arrived at her resort hotel, and everyone exited for the lobby.
A tall, long-haired man named Caleb caught Zoya’s eye and vice versa. They approached one another with gazes of mutual affinity. The slightly older man grinned upon their convergence. Their eyes locked. Her phone rang from her back pocket. She pulled out her phone and the caller ID read, ‘Mother.’ She stuffed the device back in her pocket and bit her lip. “What’s your name?” Caleb asked.
“Zoya. Yours?” she replied.
“Caleb. What kind of name is ‘Zoya’?”
“Ethiopian.”
He nodded, admiring her athletic coke bottle frame. Her eyes widened from salivating over his broad shoulders and muscular frame. A cool breeze blew through and between them, swaying her chin-length curls over her face. She brushed them aside, then caught a chill. Shivered, and goosebumps arrived. Caleb approached her, locking his eyes with her hazel eyes. She held her breath, unsure of his next move.
He embraced her, and after a moment, she returned it, absorbing his warmth, but the goosebumps remained. Zoya relaxed in his arms, resting her head on his solid chest. Their breathing synced. They kissed. Three figures lurking in the shadows observed the romantic activity.
Zoya’s phone rang, once again interrupting her make-out session. She scoffed as she extracted her mobile device from her pocket. The same name appeared on the screen. She swiped to ignore the call. Caleb’s three friends stood around waiting for his moment with Zoya to conclude. One of them signaled for him to join them. “Come to our room,” he requested. Zoya smirked and considered the offer. Her phone rang. Caleb chuckled as she checked the caller ID that read, ‘Mazaa.’ She answered the phone, “Hey, sis. What’s up?”
Caleb stepped away and followed his friends inside the hotel, leaving Zoya alone. Mazaa, the younger of the two siblings, encouraged her sister to check in with their parents, mainly their mother. Zoya reluctantly agreed to call once she returned to her room for the night.
She ended the call and dashed into the hotel lobby, hunting for Caleb. She found him in an elevator as the doors converged. Zoya sprinted towards him but missed her opportunity. She slammed her head against the metal double doors, regretting her lost opportunity for a night of fun. She pressed the elevator button to call a car. After she entered her top-floor room, Zoya called her mother, Marjani. Two rings and her mother answered the call, “Hello, Zoya.”
“Hello, mother,” Zoya said.
“Are you having fun on your trip?”
Zoya grimaced and exhaled. She worried about missing out on fun with the beau from the tour. “I’m having some fun,” Zoya replied, still fantasizing about things she wanted to do to Caleb.
“I’m glad you’re having a good time. Can’t wait to see you in a few days,” Marjani said.
“Uh, about that. I’m going to stop in Spain before heading back home.”
“Zoya, your father wants you back home to.... “
“Go back to college. I’m not becoming a doctor, just to become a doctor.”
Zoya opened the door to the balcony, then plopped down on the chair. She stared into the view of the Mediterranean Sea against the night sky. Marjani took a deep breath, “Your father and I — “
“Mainly, father,” Zoya interrupted.
“We worry about your future.”
“I know,” after waiting a moment to respond.
The conversation went dry. The room phone rang, breaking the silence and providing a much-desired distraction from the more serious conversation. “Room phone’s ringing. Hold on a sec,” Zoya told her mother as she went to answer the call. She answered the call, “Hello.” The front desk clerk was on the other end of the call. “You have a food delivery in the lobby, Ms. Nasreddin.”
“On my way down,” Zoya replied.
Zoya hung up and returned to the call with Marjani. “My dinner just arrived. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Zoya said.
“Talk to you tomorrow. I love you,” Marjani replied.
“Love you too, mother.”
They both ended the call. Zoya grabbed her room key card and headed down to the lobby. She arrived at the lobby, grabbed her meal, turned around, and saw Caleb—this time without a shirt. She held her meal while wanting to start with dessert. They shared a smile. He grabbed his own bag with food. “Do I still have that invitation?” Zoya asked.
“Yeah,” he said.
She followed him to the elevator. The three mysterious figures peered through a window, observing her movements. Caleb and Zoya approached his room. Her eyes shifted back and forth, admiring his physical form. His eyes shifted as well, salivating over her frame. They arrived at their destination. They entered and received a friendly greeting from Caleb’s travel companions.
The two companions, one male one female, drank, then offered Zoya then Caleb alcoholic beverages. She accepted the locally produced red wine, then sipped. Caleb turned on some music, then everyone danced. Caleb’s friends danced with one another. Zoya wound her hips and sipped. After a few songs, the wine crawled through her mind, making her more enticed by Caleb. She approached with a thirst in her gaze.
Their pelvises connected, synced, and rolled in unison to the sensual music. She turned her back to him and resumed dancing with her butt pressed against his pelvis. Finished her glass of wine and received another. They kissed again.
After a few hours of drinking, dancing, and sexing, Zoya returned to her room, stumbling and grinning to herself. She moseyed to the bed, then collapsed face first. Her body relaxed as her consciousness faded—eyes low, vision blurred. The sudden sight of two unknown figures sobered her up. They covered her mouth as she attempted to fight them. She flailed. Kicked. Screamed, but the hand over her mouth muffled the sound. She clawed at them until they injected her with a sedative. Her consciousness dipped to black. One of them threw her over his shoulder, snuck out of the room, and hurried down the hall toward the exit.
The sound of hotel guests alerted them. They sped up towards the stairwell door. One kept an eye out behind them. They finally reached the door and exited.
EARLIER THAT DAY IN Rome, the 19-year-old college student known as Ammar sat in the university courtyard and sketched a temple from memory. Other students and some faculty members congregated throughout the area. The tall, lean yet muscular young man in a t-shirt and jeans remembered the visuals from both online image searches and his trip to what was ancient Sumer. The Sun shone on him as he completed his drawing, thinking of returning to his native country one day.
His classmate and fellow orphan, Gabriele, approached him. Once he arrived, Ammar showed his friend the completed piece. “Nice work,” Gabriele said.
“Thanks,” Ammar replied.
Gabriele pulled out his tablet and showed Ammar a digital rendering of a three-story modern home with a front and back yard. Ammar nodded, impressed by Gabriele’s work. “You plan to build that?” Ammar asked.
“For myself,” Gabriele said as he chuckled.
Gabriele sat next to him. They took in the day's beauty and calming breeze that offset the heat. Ammar’s shoulder-length hair blew in the wind. Both pondered their respective futures, as they have only three semesters left before graduation, then a pursuit of licensure as architects. Ammar lifted his head with his eyes closed. “Are you doing graduate school or straight to work and license?” Ammar asked.
“Not sure if I want to sit at someone’s draft table. You?” Gabriele replied.
“Not sure.”
“Worried about—“
Ammar’s phone rang. He checked the caller ID and saw the name ‘Isabel’ on the screen. Gabriele saw the name too and chuckled. “Maybe it’s a sign,” Gabriele commented.
“Fuck off,” Ammar responded while answering the phone. He diverted his attention to Isabel. “Hey, what’s u p?”
“I just finished class,” Isabel said.
“See you at our spot in 10 minutes.”
“See you soon.”
The call ended. Gabriele shook his head, knowing what would happen when Ammar and his girlfriend met. “Good luck,” Gabriele said as he strutted away. His words confused Ammar and made him ponder their meaning. He grabbed his backpack and stood to his feet, entering a trance. It took a moment, but he snapped out of it and started his promenade to the rose garden in another part of the campus. Three figures who blended in with other students stalked him as he walked.
Isabel arrived at the rose garden wearing a sundress, sunglasses, and her backpack. She discovered her love waiting for her in their secluded spot. The spot had tall rose bushes in the shape of a corner. A sculpture of the Roman diplomat Gaius Maecenas sitting on a brick structure always provided their desired seclusion.
Isabel lept into Ammar’s arms. They kissed passionately, connecting and swirling tongues. He released her to the ground, then they undressed. Isabel laid down a blanket right before they fell to the ground naked. Ammar inserted himself inside her. Isabel gasped from the sensation before they kissed once more.
After nearly an hour of lovemaking, they arrived in unison and kissed one last time. They soon fell asleep in one another’s arms. Their slumber was deep but brief. Their eyes fluttered at the same time. She smiled upon seeing his face, and he returned the expression. Isabel cherished time with Ammar, but she desired to span beyond their college years. Ammar’s primary focus was on the next structure to design. Their respective gazes reflected their differing priorities.
They both picked up on the misalignment. Isabel sat up and grabbed her dress. Disappointment appeared on her visage, and Ammar noticed. He then sat up as she attempted to collect her belongings. “Isabel. What’s wrong?” Ammar asked with genuine concern.
Isabel slipped on her dress, then dumped her bra and panties in her bag. Ammar grabbed her by the arm. “Talk to me, Izzy,” Ammar said. She paused but could not make eye contact with her boyfriend. Worry and fear invaded her mind. “I’m not sure about us,” Isabel said.
“What do you mean?” Ammar asked.
“Our lives are headed in two different directions.”
“We both plan on graduating close to one another.”
Isabel resumed the gathering of her belongings. Ammar dressed himself, concerned that his relationship may be over. He snatched all his belongings from the ground as she departed.
Isabel stomped through the grass while Ammar ran to catch up to her. Once he caught up to her, he blocked her path. “Will you please talk to me? We can work out whatever the problem is,” Ammar pleaded.
Isabel just stared at him, both disappointed and afraid to end their love affair. “Give me some time to think, okay!” Isabel demanded, cutting around him to resume her beeline to her dorm room. Water built up in her eyes as she marched.
Ammar stood in the open field the same way he entered Rome as a child—alone. He lifted his head as the Sun set. Unsure about the status of his relationship, he moseyed towards the cafeteria for dinner.
After his second meal of the day, he plopped down in an unshaded area on campus. The sky matched the color of his hair. A coolness flowed as he pulled out his art supplies and drew. He searched the area for something to sketch. Finally, a campus sculpture caught his eye. He attempted to sketch it, but the possibility of having lost Isabel made the drawing look like it was from a toddler.
Ammar ripped the page from his notebook and balled it up. He launched it over to a trash bin like a basketball shot. Missed. Frustration and calm tugged at his psyche, tearing his mind and heart apart. He loved both his craft and his Isabel. After deliberating how not to lose the one he loved, he confronted the problem head-on. He stood until three pairs of hands snatched him.
He tussled for his freedom, but they collapsed, bringing the wrestling to the ground. After a series of grunts and tests of strength, one of them injected him with a sedative. The effects were almost immediate. Ammar’s consciousness faded to black. His abductors lifted and carried him to a van. The van door opened, then they tossed him in. Shut the door, then drove off.
Chapter Two
The two young humans slumbered on a royal bed. They rested on the softest of elaborate bedding. The bed lived inside a candlelit master bedroom, inside the Citadel of Qaitbay in Alexandria, Egypt. The repurposed and updated fortress sat directly across the Mediterranean Sea from Antalya, Turkey. Armored guards armed with swords, shields, and spears watched and patrolled the interior and exterior of the structure. A crescent moon and the sea provided a calming effect that deepened their sleep.
Ammar and Zoya stirred as their vision came into focus. Tension burned throughout Zoya’s body as she sat up. Discomfort swirled inside Ammar’s gut as he attempted to stand. He soon wretched and vomited on the stone floor. He wobbled until his legs dictated he sit.
Zoya leaned over and discovered Ammar on the other side. She jumped to her feet, backpedaling with fear in her gaze. Her short curly black hair covered her bright brown eyes, but she could still see the man unknown to her. She flipped her curls back. “Who the fuck are you?”
Ammar threw up again, dropping him to his knees. Fatigue snatched him, and he fell to his side with his eyes low. Zoya sidestepped around the bed towards Ammar. His eyes closed completely as his consciousness diminished. Zoya sprinted to the enormous double doors made of fortified wood with graven imagery. The carvings were abstract, with fluid lines and sharp convergences mirroring the appearance of fangs and claws.
She clinched one of the iron handles with both hands. She pulled with all her might to open the door. Her muscles tensed as she gained ground on opening one door. Zoya received an assist from a tall bearded figure in dress slacks and a long-sleeve banded-collar shirt who pushed the one door from outside the bedroom. Darkness masked most of his face but not his eyes. Their glow was a deep red, matching the glow of the two figures behind him on both sides.
Zoya backpedaled while gasping from her fear. She stumbled in retreat onto her bottom. His face and clothing came into light. He knelt and offered his hand to Zoya. He aided her to her feet as she quivered at the sight of his aged yet menacing face. The two who stood behind him were guards. They searched the room for Ammar and found him asleep next to his own vomit.
The guards lifted him off the floor. A male standing over Zoya observed Ammar’s condition. “Clean him up.” They carried him to the bathroom with the one who delivered the order, and Zoya watched them. “Who is he? Who are you?” Zoya asked.
“I’m Terrus. Royal Archivist and Priest for the ruling vampire class,” he said.
“Vampires? What? How did I... I get here?”
Zoya’s legs wobbled with her knees buckling as she drowned in disbelief that vampires exist outside of mythology. She sank, but Terrus caught her. Still conscious, she felt drained. “What’s wrong with me?”
“We gave you a sedative,” he said.
Terrus led her back to the bed, and she fell asleep. He watched her slumber for a few moments, grimacing and contemplating about why he had her and Ammar abducted. Once the stewing ended, he checked on Ammar.
In the bathroom, the two guards showered Ammar with cold water. The sensation woke him up. One of them provided him with a glass of water. Ammar chugged it. With his stomach still in knots, Ammar sat on the toilet to regain his composure. A guard left and returned with some food and more water. “Thanks,” Ammar said, still consumed by fear.
“You’re welcome,” the guard replied.
Ammar ate his food as Terrus entered. The presence of the archivist sent a chill down his spine. “Are you well?” Terrus asked Ammar. He nodded but was still suspicious of where he was and why. Ammar finished his food. A guard offered him a change of clothes, and he accepted. After changing into clean and comfortable clothes, Ammar returned to the bedroom and noticed Zoya waking up from her nap. “As she already knows, I’m Terrus,” he said.
“What’s going on? And why was I in bed with her?” Ammar asked, pointing towards Zoya.
Zoya glared at him, not appreciating his demeaning tone. Ammar leaned on a nearby wall. His energy built up, as did Zoya’s. A guard offered Zoya sustenance, and she accepted. After taking in a few bites, she felt like her normal self. Terrus positioned himself in the middle of the room. Zoya took a deep breath and sprinted out past the guards into the dimly lit hallway.
