An Ancient Evil – Chapter 5: The Duel

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Entry from Eli Harper’s diary, May 26, 2012

Funny how your whole life can change in a way you could never, ever imagine.

It will help if I can calmly list out the details of last night. Maybe this will help me focus and understand things better.

I am visited by vampires. Ha! I write that with bitterness. I did not choose this.

I am bitten by the male vampire, though I can’t seem to remember it.

I pass out or am drugged, then have a crazy dream…

The Forbidden FireIn this “dream”, I witness a battle of sorcery between a powerful witch and an even more powerful vampire. I suddenly find myself laying on rough stone pavement. And my clothes – my jeans and t-shirt – are now replaced with a white linen robe bordered with purple at the bottom, wrapped about my body to form a toga. My shoes – well, now they were simple boots made of a soft leather, with leather laces binding them around my ankles.

The air is oddly fresh, fresher than what I ever remember breathing, but alternating with strange foul odors, like rotting garbage, putrid smoke and even the stink of sewage. This is all wafted by occasional cool breezes. I look up and notice that the sun is setting; twilight is castings its diaphanous gloom over the horizon. A large, round white stone column is right beside me, fluted on the sides and rising majestically up high and bracing an ornately carved stone ceiling. It is just one of many such columns.

When I look behind me, I see that this very large room I find myself in leads to an entrance behind me, with several more columns close together at the very front. This is a temple – somehow I just know this. A “holy” place, probably one where I have no business spying. But, I didn’t ask to come here, ha! Beyond the columns and some steps is a sloping grassy area that ends at what appears to be a city street, with other buildings looming vaguely in the deepening dusk.

There is traffic on this street, but none such that I have seen before. Primitive, ramshackle carts totter along, filled with tall clay jars, wooden crates, and all manner of other goods, all pulled by horses, donkeys and oxen. Creaking, cursing, shouts, booming voices calling out various wares for sale, occasional laughter – this was what I hear. All done in a tongue that is at once unfamiliar to me, yet somehow I understand it. I am in a bustling city, surely Rome – but Rome from a very long time ago. A fearful confusion sets in as I realize this.

“Has to be a dream”, I think to myself, so I decide to relax as much as possible and just let it unfold. I have done that in my dreams before, even learning how to manipulate them to unusual ends. My confusion gives way to a steely calm as my heart quits pounding so violently.

I carefully peek around the stone column in front of me to see a marble floor alternating in black and white blocks, forming a checkerboard style. But, it is the beautiful woman a little ways away that really catches my eye. She is young, surely in her early 20s, pale, with refined features, yet there is something fierce and almost harsh in her demeanor. Dark brown hair, bound in plaited braids, wraps around the back of her head. She stands there, her back to me, making odd gestures there in front of me. As she waves her arms about and chants in a low voice, I can see a symmetry to her gestures, as if a pattern is being sketched in the air. Again, that feeling of deja vu – I somehow recognize that pattern. It is, well, very BAD.

THIS is a Dark Ceremony, one that I know is both forbidden and extremely dangerous. I seem to “know” much in this dream of things I have never encountered before. It is as if hidden memories, long forgotten, are surfacing to my conscious mind.

To her left is a gleaming, metallic brazier, from which heavy, pungent, yet fragrant smoke billows out into the suddenly rising night wind. I don’t like it, this wind that is rising. It is a cold wind and blowing steadily colder.

Suddenly, she throws something from her left hand into the burning brazier, and it immediately flares up brilliantly, spectacularly, blazing with a lime green flame. Never have I seen a flame like that before; it doesn’t just burn, it writhes in the air, the flames forming tentacles, even such as an octopus would have. They make an eerie, throbbing movement. The very sight of them revolts me, with good reason, as I am soon to see.

She then raises both arms slowly from down at her site, up and up, palms facing up and hands stretched wide. The arms stop at a 45 degree angle from her body. The glittering bands around her silky white arms catch the light from the green inferno beside her.

A dull rumble vibrates the ground while the woman begins to invoke what I recognize as names of very ancient gods, along with an extremely odd name – Paddaptaqqat – that I have never heard before. She pauses, her beautiful mouth pursed, mocking, then opening again to say with the utmost urgency:


At once I feel a surge, a raising of incredible energy all around us. There is a change in the whole atmosphere – I can only describe it as a “darkening”. The insistent cacophony of the chaotic street abruptly vanishes, replaced by a heavy silence.

From my tense vantage point I notice there is a blurring effect at the boundary of a wide circular area surrounding us. A “veil” of sorts, my guess, perhaps to hide the events unfolding.

Again the beautiful enchantress speaks, her commanding tone amplified enough to shake the very ground. She haughtily speaks as an evil Goddess would speak, thundering out Words of Power, Words of Arch Vanity, Words of Utter Selfishness – all couched in a deadly Spell. The blurred area in front of her then parts, revealing an object moving slowly, inexorably creeping towards her – it is an elaborately carved sarcophagus.

It also looks to be extremely old.

The strange, fiery tentacles leap out to the sarcophagus, licking over it with sprays of emerald lightning streaks. “Claudo”, she cries, a level of intensity rising in her voice as the latin word for “open” is harshly uttered.

The flames converge over the sarcophagus, flaming most brightly on the sides and forming prying, claw-like fingertips that seek passage into this vessel for death.

With a shudder the sarcophagus door flies open with violent speed. Inside, lit dimly by the eerie green glow of the flames all about, is that same male vampire from my bedroom, but now dressed in a toga of deepest purple embroidered with golden threads twisting wildly in spinning, twisting patterns. Upon his feet are fine leather sandals in a design with an old world flair. His body is lithe and muscular under his fine garments.

He opens his eyes. They shine so brilliantly red that I have to turn my head slightly so not to look into them directly, lest I go blind. His face contorts into a mask of demonic rage as the eyes blaze even brighter, bathing the lovely witch in front of him strongly enough to overwhelm the light from the evil green flame and saturating her with a light that is blood red. He hisses a one syllable sound through clenched teeth, another guttural Word of Great Power, his pointed incisors gleaming wickedly in the light from his burning eyes. But, even as he does so, the witch calls out as well, her voice again shaking the very ground and silencing his.

“Jason the vampire, fallen God of Thunder, debased into a foul drinker of blood and ruler over the baser things, your Power will be now subservient to mine!”

At that point the green flames crawl rapidly over Jason’s body, and I could tell from the look on his face their horrific effect. He is burning, his muscular body writhing violently in pain!

“I command thee by the Power of Paddaptaqqat to forever do my bidding. Thou hast great Power, and this Power shall now be used for my every wish!”

The green flames engulf Jason’s twisting body and seem to be pulling him up by some unknown force and out of his sarcophagus. The witches victory seems complete.

Then EVERYTHING changes!

The sarcophagus explodes into countless bits of stone fragments and powdery dust as the figure of Jason becomes dark and immense. The hateful green flames suddenly lift from his skin, and in an instant he transforms into what I always have envisioned an evil genie to be, that is, an awesome being engulfed in voluminous black storm clouds raging with countless flashes of darting, spidery lighting. I hear the same male voice I had heard in my bedroom, bellowing in an unknown language that I now assume is one used in the casting of spells, but his voice is even louder than the constant and deafening thunderclaps. I am afraid yet completely enthralled. And his eyes! They burn with the light of twin red suns gazing down from high above me.

The dark clouds totally engulf the burning green brazier, and it lurches forward and loses balance, spilling the twisting green flames right on top of the apparently stunned witch. She screams as the merciless flames cover every inch of her body. She is immediately consumed; one second she is all sensual curves and pure white skin, the next she is grey ash blowing away in the harsh wind. With the burning of her body, the wicked green fire that had been summoned through her spell vanishes. All that remains is that sad, useless, grey human ash that is now completely lost in the wind.

Then, in an instant, I am no longer in the temple gazing up into the boiling wrath of the vampire demon above me, but back in my room, sitting in my chair, my head slopped to one side. Cautiously opening my eyes, I am reassured that all is quiet around me, the room innocent in its usual disarray of tossed clothes, empty soda bottles on the desk in front of me, the blue neon clock gleaming sure and steady on the wall to my left. All I want to do now is go to the PC on the desk by the bed and write everything that has happened to me these past couple of days.

And, so I begin, and soon tell the tale all the way to this very moment in time that you are reading this.

An unknown amount of time passes, and the room grows cold as the sun sets just outside my window. The lonely call of a night bird sounds close by, forlorn and echoing in the still dusk air. Where has the whole day gone? I’ve lost track of time in my dazed state.

I feel a strong hand clutch my shoulder from behind, and I immediately twist around to see who it is. There HE is, the male vampire, this man the witch had called Jason, with his glowing red eyes looking urgently into mine. I start, but then relax as I sense that he means me no harm. Even after all that has happened, and in my distraught frame of mind, a soothing comfort washes over me. It dawns on me that I am under his spell, one used to calm my mood. It not so bad!

“What happened last night?” I sputter, “And, what is happening to me?” In response, a slight smile wrinkles Jason’s pale thin face as he says:

“You had to see what you saw last night to fully understand. That was no dream, you were really there as a silent witness, summoned there by my Spell, changed as needed in appearance to go unnoticed among the priests in that temple.”>

“That woman that you saw was a very distant ancestor of yours from ancient Rome, a powerful and wicked witch named Oenothea. She sought to enslave me to do her bidding. A terrible thing that would have been, for her power, combined with mine, would have threatened the entire world and upset the delicate balance of Power in the dimension that you call the ‘supernatural’.”

“In her lust for power she had somehow stumbled upon a spell that invoked a frightening Being, one never spoken of in the annals of even the darkest sorcery. This may be the same Being that I encountered long, long ago, far from earth, in a previous existence much grander than this one that I endure now. I will tell you about this soon. About the witch, well, unfortunately for her my power was stronger than hers. She was extremely dangerous and HAD to die. But, I was in the gravest of peril. She was almost TOO strong, even for a Fallen God.”

He continues:

“But the Power she commanded is nothing compared to the awakening Power inside of YOU!

I look at him in confusion. His face bears no expression as those red eyes now truly burn into mine. I allow them to fill my vision.

“You must learn much, much more of the Power that sleeps in you, lest Something Unspeakable finds you vulnerable. And, I have need of you and your Power.”

From the tight clutch of his hand on my shoulder comes a wash of intense cold over my entire body. The room grows hazy around me as we seem cast yet once again into some misty dimension, all the while his strong, pale hand still clutching my shoulder as the room spins and vanishes around me.

My life changes forever then, for in the events about to unfold I find out at last WHO and WHAT I REALLY am, as everything, every concept I know of good and bad, every belief in right and wrong, profoundly changes into a new understanding of the Dark universe all around me. Most disturbing is the fact that I am apparently linked by ancient heritage directly to something very evil!

To be continued. Check back soon for more! Better yet, sign up to get updates by entering your email address in the box on the top right.

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