The Thirteenth Lord
M.T. MurphyCopyright 2015
Chapter 2 - Ruprecht
“Crazy looking
sideburns?” Joseph knew he was hesitating way more than he should. “No. Doesn’t
ring a bell, mister. Sorry.”
The customer, who
said his name was Ruprecht, smiled and shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”
Joseph held his
breath. The man Ruprecht was looking for was unforgettable. The red-eyed freak
left a hundred dollar bill as a tip with the explicit instruction not to
mention him to anyone. Ever.
Ruprecht seemed like
an honest guy. A nice guy. He was fortyish, with sandy brown hair that was
stylishly arranged, but almost due for a trim. Not dashingly handsome, but not homely
either. His distinguishing feature was a British accent, which instantly made
him stand out like James Bond in the downtown El Paso restaurant.
“Help me out, here, Joseph.
I rarely smoke cigars, but I’m in a victorious mood this eve. What’s good?”
Joseph pointed to
the Davidoff Aniversario specials on the cigar menu. “If you only smoke one
cigar, I’d go with this one. It’s our most expensive cigar, but it’s worth it.”
Ruprecht leaned
forward, handing the menu over. “Would you steer me wrong, my son?”
Joseph laughed. “I
guarantee it will be the best cigar you smoke all year.”
Ruprecht nodded. “All
right then. I trust you. Bring me one.”
He retrieved the
cigar from the humidor in the back and helped Ruprecht trim the end and light
it.
The man let out a
coughing laugh. “That is good. How much do I owe you?”
“Twenty seven after
tax.”
Ruprecht placed the
twenty seven dollars on the table.
Joseph gathered up
the cash. “Thank you, sir.”
“Wait a moment.”
Ruprecht placed a hundred dollar bill on the table and took a slow drag off the
cigar. “I have a question for you, my son.”
Joseph’s eyes locked
onto the bill. “I’m listening.”
“Do you remember,”
Ruprecht placed another hundred on the table, “the man with ridiculous
sideburns,” and another, “red eyes that almost seem to glow,” and another, “and
jagged, pointy teeth?” A fifth hundred joined the stack. “Please, take your
time if you need to.” The man rested his hand on top of the money.
Joseph let out the
breath he’d been holding. He placed his fingertips on the edge of the stack of
bills. “Maybe I was mistaken when I said I hadn’t seen him.”
Ruprecht smiled and
removed his hand.
Joseph snatched up
the cash and stuffed it into his pocket. “Look, I didn’t want to say anything,
but that guy was crazy. He smoked half a box of Rembrandts Irish cigarillos and
drank us out of Irish whiskey and Scotch. When I told him we were out, I swear
it looked like his eyes were glowing red and his teeth got a little longer. I think
he would have killed me if we’d been out back in the alley or something.”
Ruprecht nodded.
“Was there a woman with him? Concentrate. She will have made it difficult for
you remember her.”
“I don’t think so.” Joseph
gasped as the memory popped back into his head. “Wait a minute. Yeah. There was
a woman. Gorgeous one. Pale, with black hair. Jesus. How did I forget her?”
“It’s all right. She
has that effect on people.”
“But how did she do
that?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“But—”
“Joseph!” Ruprecht
snapped. His own eyes flashed with golden light, but returned to normal an
instant later. He calmed himself and spoke again. “Joseph, I need you to
concentrate.”
“Who the hell are
they?” Joseph asked, his voice growing weak.
Ruprecht leaned
forward and Joseph also moved in closer. “The less you know, the better, but
unless I catch up to them soon, people will die.”
“Shit.”
“Where are they
going?”
“I don’t know. They
didn’t say.”
“She bit you, I
see.”
“What?”
Ruprecht grasped his
forearm, stroking two barely visible marks with his thumb. “I doubt you
remember yet, but I see the mark. It heals remarkably fast when they let you
live. She left an image in your mind for me.”
Joseph closed his
eyes and his world shook like he was on a ship in the middle of a storm. A
memory of a house in the desert came to him. It was a house he had never been
to or seen. He opened his eyes and found
Ruprecht with his eyes closed, resting his face on the two marks on his arm. He
snatched his arm away. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I think you need to
leave.”
Ruprecht smiled. “My
apologies, Joseph. You have done a good thing, my son. Your sacrifice will be
well worth it.”
Joseph stood up
straight. “Sacrifice?”
Ruprecht waved his
hand as if to brush away the word. “Forget I said that.”
Joseph’s eyes glazed
over for a moment, then he replied. “Okay.”
“Good. Joseph, I
feel like you and I have become old chums in the time we have spent together,
tonight. Can I ask you a personal question?”
“I guess.”
“What do you fear
the most?”
Joseph opened his mouth,
but no words came forth. His eyes met Ruprecht’s and his will to speak
disappeared. The two fiery discs stole his will. A presence violated his mind,
turning over memories and pilfering every thought he held sacred. He wanted to
scream, but his body was paralyzed. Instead, his mind screamed for him: “I don’t want to be alone.”
Then it was over. He
blinked and looked around. The restaurant crowd laughed and ate. If anything
out of the ordinary had happened, they hadn’t seen it. Ruprecht finished his cigar
and placed the cash for his untouched drinks on the table.
Joseph felt like he
had been talking to Ruprecht for quite some time, but he couldn’t recall a
single word.
“Um…how was
everything?”
“Excellent,”
Ruprecht replied with a smile. “Take care of yourself, Joseph.”
“You too. See you
next time.” Deep inside, a voice was screaming in Joseph’s head. He was not
sorry to see the man go.
Ruprecht crushed out
the cigar and left.
Joseph refilled the drinks
for one table full of guests, then recited the evening’s specials for a newly
seated group.
Ruprecht stood in
the darkness next to a dumpster behind the restaurant. He reached his arms out
to the side, forming a lazy “T” shape. “You deserve better than this, Joseph.
I’d have rather you lived, but I can’t have any loose ends.” His form became
transparent as he rose a few inches off the ground.
A black seam split
down the air behind him. The seam widened, becoming a circular door. Dark, scaly
tendrils reached through, dancing like smoke in the darkness.
Ruprecht pointed
into the air around the restaurant.
Floating holes opened at the entrance and at each window. For a moment, there was only silence. Then, a
faint sound started. It was like the trickle of a small stream. The sound grew
louder. Tentacles burst out of each opening, crashing through doors and
windows.
Ruprecht ignored the
screaming and confusion. His prize would come soon enough. In seconds, his patience was rewarded as the
fear and horror of the dead and dying washed over him. He feasted on it as the
nightmarish tentacles ripped and broke the flesh of those trapped inside.
In less than a
minute, no living soul was left in the restaurant. A fire broke out in the
kitchen. Soon it would spread and destroy most of the evidence before anyone
realized something was wrong.
“That is enough,”
Ruprecht said.
The dark gates
narrowed. Tentacles quickly slithered back into their dark hell, dragging
pieces of their grisly meal with them. Once the portals had closed, Ruprecht
drifted back to the ground and became solid again.
He frowned at the
blackish-red stains on the street outside the burning building. His pets had
been sloppy.
Ruprecht was quite
pleased to have received two very valuable things: one delicious meal of terror
and a destination.
“Lucifera, I cannot
wait to see you again,” he said to the empty alley. “And I must leave this
dreadful town. It simply reeks of werewolf.”
The vampire lord known as Ruprecht the Horror strolled away to the west on the newfound trail of his targets.