Chris gave Frederick a curious look. "Anna converted because she wanted a relationship with God after a lifetime of doubt and rebellion. She wanted peace. We didn't think that it would heal her or increase her powers. We didn't discover the sword until after we fought the vampire."
"For decades I believed there was no hope for me. How could God forgive a monster like me? But everything changed when I met Anna. She put feelings and ideas into my head. At first I didn't realize it consciously. I became sickened at the sight of blood, and was horrified when I saw another one of my kind murder an innocent human being," Frederick said.
"I don't know if you can be saved. When I first met Anna I didn't know she was a vampire. I didn't even know vampires existed. She thought the baptism might even kill her or bring God's wrath upon her in some way. All I can say is that it is worth a shot. You would be free of this thirst for blood, and live a normal life. You wouldn't be allergic to silver for example," Chris said.
Frederick nodded thoughtfully, and then felt sick to his stomach. He stared at Chris who was giving him a poker face. He saw his hands become paler and bluish, and his body felt like it was burning. He clutched his head as he felt a massive headache. Frederick suddenly collapsed onto the floor.
"You drugged me with silver," Frederick accused.
"Didn't expect that did you?" Chris smirked.
Chris helped Frederick over to his roommate's bed, and placed a silver cross necklace around his neck making him even sicker.
"That silver is really devastating isn't it?" Chris commented.
Frederick cursed at him in French. "I want to know where Anna is," Chris said seriously.
"Or else you will torture me with silver?" Frederick asked.
"I just used the silver so we can be on an even playing field," Chris said.
"We are not even," Frederick said angrily.
Frederick struggled to get out of the bed and challenge Chris. He reached for Chris' throat, but his arm was twisted behind his back. Chris then slammed Frederick to the floor. Frederick used his legs to get back to his feet, but was pushed towards the walls. The two struggled in the room, but Frederick was becoming weaker. Chris pushed Frederick to the ground, and locked his head so he couldn't move. "So weak…," Frederick muttered.
Chris released Frederick, and dragged him over to the bed. Frederick crawled onto the bed as his strength left him. "You're in better shape than Anna was when she was exposed to silver. It sent her to the hospital," Chris commented.
"Why was she exposed?" Frederick asked.
"At the time I didn't know if she was a vampire or not, so it was to test her. Only a vampire would have that kind of allergic reaction," Chris recalled.
"So you two weren't always friendly?" Frederick assumed.
"There were strained times like when she started erasing my memories and manipulating me," Chris said.
"What did you do when you found out her true nature?" Frederick asked.
"I tried to kill her. I thought she was responsible for the murders in the city," Chris admitted.
"I would have done the same in your position," Frederick sympathized.
"It was a mistake. I didn't have enough certainty. I hurt the wrong person," Chris said guiltily.
Frederick said nothing. "So, you ask your questions, and then I'll hear your story. If I think I can trust you I won't kill you," Chris said.
"Anna is a killer. You are not. I know the type," Frederick muttered.
"Going to bet eternity on that?" Chris asked.
Frederick tensed up as he felt another wave of pain go through him from the silver. "How did Anna cure herself?"
"After the Baptism and First Communion her anemia was gone. She also became a lot stronger within a quick period of time. She became immune to silver and garlic as well. She still burned in the sun until two months later," Chris said.
"What happened two months later?"
"She said that an angel told her she could stand in the sunlight in a dream. Soon thereafter she tested that. I can't say if the same with happen to you."
"What of the sword?"
"In the same dream the angel told her where to find it. We searched for it on this island in the dark and found it on the shore. It is the perfect weapon. It's indestructible, can cut through anything, and yet won't slice innocent flesh."
"Who is this angel? Is it Michael, Gabriel, or perhaps Satan?"
"We don't know, but I don't think it is a demon."
"It sounds hard to believe. I don't understand why God would be revealed in this way," Frederick doubted.
"Maybe it wasn't supposed to be revealed. Her mission was to kill all of you," Chris replied. "Now, I want your side of the story."
"You will want to kill me after I tell it," Frederick warned him.
"I'll kill you if you don't," Chris threatened.
Chris placed silver knives on his desk to illustrate his point. Frederick stared at the ceiling as he reflected on the memories he still remembered. "I was born in Paris, France in the year 1921…
I was the only son of two loving parents. I went to the best schools in Paris, and right before the war I studied at the University of Paris. At the time I paid little attention to the growing German threat that would later overwhelm us. At the time we had confidence that Germany would never rise up against the world like before. We had faith in our military defenses and in our alliance with Great Britain. However, we found ourselves quite mistaken as our surrender occurred within a month of the Germans crossing our border.
Those willing to continue the fight were invited to enlist with the British forces for the reminder of the war. Those left behind would ultimately form the resistance. My involvement in the war was purely out of patriotic duty to France. I was an idealist at the time. I discovered contacts within the university, and became a spy against the German occupational forces. At first my job was only to report routine information. I became quite good at disguising my intentions, which I would later to use in my next life.
Later on I would distribute propaganda and leaflets among the general public. Still, only a small number of Frenchmen would contribute to our cause. I joined the militant communists, and was taught how to make explosives by a woman named France Bloch-Sérazin. A year later she was arrested by the French police, sent to Germany, and then beheaded with an axe. Others continued her cause in bomb making, but eventually allied forces airlifted dynamite to us. One of our favorite targets was the railroads in which I discreetly worked to take the pins out.
I knew a man named Pierre Georges who assassinated a German officer in front of everyone. The Germans retaliated by killing hundreds of prisoners, and so the assassinations stopped. He would later be captured by the Germans, but managed to escape. He eventually blew himself up manipulating a mine. Another one of our leaders was Joseph Epstein who successfully organized an attacked on a German formation with grenades. He was eventually captured, tortured, and then executed by firing squad.
It was during these years that I learned how to forge documents, act as a spy, construct explosives, and shoot a rifle. I was also taught the rational for when it was appropriate to kill someone. Finally, in 1944 the Allied forces liberated Paris with the help of the resistance. I was told of the liberation in advance, and set out to distinguish myself. Early in the battle I was shot in the lung and abdomen. It was then that I knew I would die.
I was dragged to a shelter where I was treated for my wounds. One man had a conversation with me as I lay dying. He asked me if I wanted to live. I was twenty-three at that time, and had not lived a whole life. I had not been raised in a religious environment, but even if I had I would have taken his offer. He told me he could take the pain and the fear away forever. I consented to whatever methods he wanted to prescribe. He bit hard into my wrist sending the venom of the vampire through me. He then withdrew from me, but the pain and the fear did not end. I became sicker and felt death for the first time.
I would awake in a body bag along hundreds of other body bags. With my vampire senses I could see every detail of those destroyed bodies, and I could hear the wings of the flies. I could smell the rotting corpses so well I could taste it. But I wasn't disgusted. I felt like I was in a good place. I could smell the blood, and in spite of it all I wanted to stay there in that grave yard.
The one who turned me found me, and gave me a new purpose. His name was Xavier, a vampire that had lived for centuries. He told me his life story, and the secret to life as he knew it. I don't remember any of the killings I had committed, but it must have been in the hundreds. After the war I finished my degree in Paris, and I followed my own path apart from Xavier.
The decades are a blur for me. I do not know how many I had killed or who I had loved. I don't remember anything about my parents after the war. Had the war claimed them? Had I killed them myself? Over these last few weeks I have asked myself how many I had killed, and what methods I would have used. I then found my journal, which detailed every person I had murdered. There were men, women, and children. Some of them were from France, but others were from all over Europe. When I visited the United States I killed there too. I know I did these things, because the handwriting is mine.
In my journal it says that after the war I worked in the French occupation zone in western Germany. The French had been awarded this territory by the Allies for their service on the European front. It was also a way to keep my people happy so that Soviets wouldn't gain influence with us. I became part of the Monnet Plan, which was to advance French industrial interests. We took from the Germans their industries and coal mines for ourselves in the hopes that we would surpass our pre-war industrial output. We had little concern for how this negatively affected the German population. At the time hatred against the Germans was rather high, so it was of little concern to the authorities when some of the Germans ended up missing. Another advantage I had was that many of the German soldiers returning from war were unaccounted for or considered missing. In reality a significant amount of those missing soldiers were those who were killed by my kind. The former Nazi soldiers were the perfect target for victimization.
With my college degree I became a manager for coal and steel production in Western Germany for a number of years killing Germans every so often. Occasionally there would be French victims as well, those I could not fire due to labor laws. I was praised for my performance, but I knew my success would not last for long. I did not age, and it would only be a matter of time before I would be suspected of the killings.
I later joined the French External Security Service in 1950s, and quickly discovered that the KGB were quite entrenched within the agencies. They were fairly independent from the government, which gave me a degree of flexibility. It was here that I actively assisted French Intelligence while also giving information to the KGB and the National Liberation Front of Algeria. I became acquainted with the Red Hand, a terrorist organization attached to French Intelligence. We committed a number of attacks in Western Germany and Algeria, but were never sanctioned by the French government. It was also during this time that I joined the French Communist Party, and was involved in criminal resistance plots. I took on a number of different identities and alliances with groups that opposed one another. I was not ideologically confused, but one that wanted to take advantage of every politically motivated act of terrorism. I fought the 4th Republic of France just as I had fought the Nazi occupation, and I was loyal to no one.
In the 1960s, the Red Hand would late morph into the Organization of the Secret Army. Their goal was to use acts of terrorism against Algerian sympathizers in France and in Algeria. I also joined the Algerian National Movement who actively opposed the Algerian National Front. The war against Algerian independence had gone on since 1954, and the French public was beginning to tire of it. During this time there were "cafe wars" in which I took part in bombings and assassinations of Algerian National Front leaders and sympathizers. At the same time however, I gave information to the Algerian National Front for their attacks. As a result hundreds were killed or injured in French cities as a result of this conflict. The OAS in the 1960s would attempt assassinate President Charles de Gaulle, but were not successful. President Charles de Gaulle wanted to end the Algerian war, and give it independence after nearly a decade of conflict. Since I thrived on the conflict I was naturally opposed to the president. In 1962, the OAS hoped to provoke the Algerian National Front into abandoning a cease fire between itself and the French government, which ended the war. The OAS detonated hundreds of bombs, committed a propaganda campaign, and at one point attack French army forces. Despite this provocation the Algerian National Front did not take the bait, and the campaign failed. The OAS leaders were eventually caught, and many of them were executed.
With the OAS gone, I turned my attention to communist resistance movements in Spain. The country was under the command of Fascist dictator Francisco Franco. I volunteered my services in their resistance, but they made no serious progress during those years. In May 1968, the communist youth rose up against the government in mass demonstrations. I was forty seven at the time, but I looked as if I were still in my twenties. I participated in its organization, but in the end it was a great defeat. The French voting public gave President Charles de Gaulle increased majorities in the legislature. Likewise the enormous youth demonstrations in the United States against the Vietnam War and other issues had failed to stop conservative Richard Nixon from winning the presidency that same year.
From the student protests spawned the Red Army Faction in West Germany. I became involved in the planning of bank robberies, kidnappings, and murders. They believed me loyal to the cause, but I was more interested in finding excuses to kill people to nourish me. The West Germany police cracked down on Red Army Faction, so I would often move around Europe joining left-leaning resistance movements. One was the Red Brigades, which was an Italian communist terrorist organization. I was involved in bank robberies, kidnapping, and murder with them as well. In 1974, the Red Brigades' ranks swelled, but they made a fatal mistake when they killed popular politician Aldo Moro. Italian law enforcement cracked down on the Red Brigades, and they lost significant popular support. I then left Italy for France where I joined up with Action Directe, a communist terrorist organization. In the late 70s and 80s, Action Directe did a number of assaults on the French government. I capitalized on this violence by killing the politically powerful and feeding off them. During this time I also joined the Communist Combatant Cells under the leadership of Belgium Pierre Carette. The Action Directe, Red Army Faction, and the Communist Combatant Cells were all associated of each other in the 1980s, which made me a valuable contact. However, once Pierre Carette was arrested the CCC ended.
With the fall of the Soviet Union these communist resistance organizations lost funding and membership. The war had been lost, and the hope of converting Western Europe to communism was but a dream. I never believed that the communist organizations would succeed in their mission. In fact their actions often discredited legitimate left-leaning parties and organizations. What these organizations provided was a narcissistic idea that their petty lives mattered, and that they could make a difference. They provided an excuse for theft and murder. They gave someone like me security while I did my killings. I learned valuable skills over these decades. I became an expert in identity fraud, bank robberies, kidnapping, murder, arms trafficking, infiltration of organizations and governments, bomb making, and double dealing. While my comrades have aged in their jail cells or have died from old age, I continue to exist not a day older than my time resisting Nazi occupation.
I later rejoined Xavier, and became part of his coven in Paris. I became his spy, and in time he came to trust me. With Xavier's connections and powers I was able to kill with greater efficiency than ever before. I lost interest in politics and armed resistance only believing in my own self preservation. Xavier taught me to understand that movements come and go, but we shall always remain. It didn't matter what organization we joined as long as they could give us the cover to keep killing.
After I had read my journal, I contemplated suicide but I thought about what had happened to Anna. As I see it, the only thing that keeps me living is the hope I could right everything I did. If I can't be saved then I prefer death.
Frederick sighed as he took out his journal. "I would have you read it, but it's in French. I don't suppose you can read French?"
Chris shook his head. "It seems that Anna erased everything except your heroism in World War 2."
"I was a spy and a terrorist for the communists," Frederick downplayed.
"Well, suffice to say she scanned all of your memories and didn't kill you. That says something to me. She thought you could be redeemed or at the very least be useful," Chris pointed out.
"I was just a messenger to deliver a threat."
"This is how God sees it: But if a wicked person turns away from all the sins they have committed and keeps all my decrees and does what is just and right, that person will surely live; they will not die. None of the offenses they have committed will be remembered against them. Because of the righteous things they have done, they will live. Do I take any pleasure in the death of the wicked declares the Sovereign Lord? Rather, am I not pleased when they turn from their ways and live? But if a righteous person turns from their righteousness and commits sin and does the same detestable things the wicked person does, will they live? None of the righteous things that person has done will be remembered. Because of the unfaithfulness they are guilty of and because of the sins they have committed, they will die," Chris recited from a small Bible.
"Perhaps I was predestined to be damned," Frederick wondered.
"Some are predestined to be called to be Christians by God, but no one is predestined to succeed. It requires our cooperation," Chris said.
"If I help Anna I will probably be killed not in a state of grace," Frederick said.
"There is baptism by blood if you die to save someone else or for the faith," Chris said although he was not certain Frederick would qualify.
With some effort Frederick sat on the bed and stood up. He touched Chris' desk to steady himself. "Take this and then translate it. If I return I will collect it. I just need some assurance that I will be remembered."
"Sure," Chris said awkwardly.
Frederick struggled to walk across the room, and nearly fell before Chris caught him. "Please help me to the street. I can then take a cab."
Chris put his arm around Frederick, and helped him down the hall. Some of the students gave them odd looks as they passed by. Chris smiled embarrassed by the scene; no doubt the other students figured Frederick was drunk. Chris eventually brought Frederick to a street corner.
"You don't have to do this on your own. There is the police," Chris said.
"We own the police and the local government outside Paris. Tell you what; if one of us doesn't contact you within the month give Europol a call. We have some people there as well, but you might get lucky. Tell them this address," Frederick said, and then gave Chris a piece of paper.
"Don't tell them your name or your address, or you'll be dead within the weak," he warned.
"I'll keep that in mind," Chris said.
Chris then helped Frederick into the taxi cab. "Good luck," Chris said, as the door closed
As the cab drove off, Chris looked over Frederick's journal. He would use an internet translator, and work to translate the entire journal.
Frederick later arrived at Xavier's hideout while I was grilled over information. Xavier changed tactics once he realized my endurance. He started asking me simple questions like my tastes in music and art. He even tried to be friendly with me on occasions. He then asked questions about the corrupt priests and bishops that I had reported on. I gave all of this up, because I wasn't going to endure torture to save the skins of these people. He then asked about the Pope, which I refused. Frederick entered the room as the torture session had begun.
Frederick waited patiently as Xavier continued his interrogation. He had two attendants with him who would occasionally beat me down with rods. "Ah, Frederick, what is your report?" Xavier asked.
"The boy has been disposed of," he said without emotion.
"Come, tell us the details," Xavier smiled.
"It was a relatively simple affair. I followed him, and when the opportunity presented itself I killed him in an alley. There were no witnesses. The body was placed in a ditch outside of Rome," Frederick said.
"Did he put up any kind of fight?"
"He has a silver knife and a silver crucifix with him. Under the circumstances I didn't allow him to compete against me. I ambushed him and killed him quickly."
Frederick then handed one of Xavier's attendants with the silver knife and crucifix inside a piece of cloth, so they wouldn't directly touch it. "Did you find out the location of his parents?" Xavier asked.
"My apologies but I wasn't able to acquire that information. His death was my first priority," Frederick admitted.
Xavier sighed. "It just means more interrogation."
"Do you have more for me to do?"
"Yes, I need you to send invitations to the others for our monthly meeting. I want them all to be there so we can put Anna on trial," Xavier said.
"As you wish," Frederick said, and then left the room.
As Frederick left my mind was in turmoil. Was Chris really dead? My goal and my continued existence were dedicated to his continued existence. Everything I had done up until now required his presence. The exposing of the priests, the money transfers to my accounts, and all the vampire killings were all a means to an end, and he was that end. I had been too over confident believing myself invincible. My abilities, my sword, and even the power of God could not save me from Xavier.
"Leave us," Xavier said to his attendants.
I heard them leave the room, and then I felt my blind cloth being taken off. I looked around the dark dungeon of a room. Xavier was in a chair wearing mirror sunglasses staring at me. Tears fell from my eyes as I felt completely broken. "You loved him. You are over two centuries old, and yet you have the same feelings as a broken-hearted teenage girl. I understand," Xavier said sympathetically.
"You remind me of a woman that lived centuries ago. She was a few years older than how you appear now," Xavier said reflectively.
"Tell me more. Tell me everything," I said hoping it would reveal a clue or weakness about him.
"During the time of King Charles the Seventh…,"