shelves are sacred and may not pass beyond these doors. You will copy what you need.”
The look in her eye told me there would be no haggling. Those were the last words she uttered before she revealed a thick ring of keys and stopped at a splintered, wooden door to her right. Thumbing through the various keys, she stopped on one larger and more opulent than the others, and then used it to open the lock. With a click, she pulled open the heavy door and gestured for me to enter. I did, but with the sound of the door closing with a heavy thud behind me, I knew I was alone and she did not join me.
What I found before me was a room clearly meant as a library and record room. There was a desk near the back wall littered with parchments, quill pens, and a single, lit lantern. Around me were cases from floor to ceiling, piled high with volumes and alchemies and other documents I was sure were very important, but I was there to search for one topic in particular. How did the Occult and the Vampires come to be? Were they before us? Did they evolve from us? Were they created as punishment for our sins most horrible, to torment our dreams in the night? I dropped my briefcase and nearly ran to the shelf closest to me and began fingering each of the spines. There must have been thousands of books in the room. Torn pages strewn on the floor and wells of ink left drying.
I didn’t know how many hours had gone by. There were no windows to let me know when the sun was rising or setting. A few times, I heard the door hinges behind me creak, and when I looked, I found tea and biscuits waiting for me. I continued my search for the answers through the pages. The nun was kind, but I can tell there were secrets about her beliefs, which were serious and scared her. I could tell she probably knew more about them at this point than I did. I knew if I asked, she would not dare tell me, possibly sworn to secrecy. Nevertheless, I inhaled the provided refreshments and kept on through accounts of disciples, volumes of history, symbolism, and the like, until at last my tired fingers graced the indigo-colored spine of one very particularly large volume leaned up in the darkest corner, nearly alone, on the very farthest shelf.
As I plucked it, the disturbed dust and cobwebs encircled me, caking the inside of my throat. I hacked it away, but when I brushed across the cover, my fingertips revealed the silver lettering in the dark face. Draco Autem Nox: Prioris Testamenti , which directly translated to Dragon of the Night: First Testament.
Laying it out over the desk, I pried it open, finding several of the pages stuck together. Turning to the inside of the front cover, I found two elaborate depictions of some very infamous characters. The first was of Vlad Dracul, or Vlad the Impaler, ancient ruler of Romania and the second of Elizabeth Bathory of Hungary. Desperately, I pulled my notebook out from my coat pocket and spread it to the next empty page I could find. The quill pen was hot between my fingertips and I read and read until my eyes burned, and read some more. I had found what was perhaps the single, most important document I could have found, and I wondered if the others—the ones watching—knew it even existed. I had found what was to be considered the Vampire’s bible—or perhaps the bible of all of dark kind.
Within the pages of this mysterious text, I’d taken several things. First, there were creators, supposedly, of the Vampire kind. The two, Vlad and Elizabeth, are believed to be the mother and father and the highly worshipped saints of the people cursed. Within the first unit, the pages revealed the dismal details of both of their reigns; how ruthless they were and wasteful with the shed of human blood. The book also quoted Isaiah 34:13 through 15 and discussed a character brand new to me, yet at the same time, very familiar. Lilith, the woman believed in the old testament to be the first wife of Adam, but who left after refusing to