Darness in the Low Country

The blue haired young man was standing in the darkness in the middle of a cemetery. He had no idea how he got there or why he was there, but he knew it was an old cemetery. He knew it was old not by just the headstones on the graves but he could sense it; smell it; even taste it. The young man could feel the evil of the place; he could feel it in his bones and his mind. The man pulled a knife from his boot. There was nothing special about the knife, just a simple knife with a long steel blade; he held his arm out straight; and suddenly he slashed the palm of his hand and blood began to flow and fall upon the grave in front of him. He then spoke words he did not understand; they were not words of some ancient language long forgotten but words in English. The man had no idea what the words meant but he knew they were part of some ritual; a ritual he had no idea what would happen but one bound by blood; his blood.

With the words spoken and his blood on the ground, the earth on the grave began to shift and at first a hand appeared out of the dirt, then another, then a head, and then a body. The body rose from the grave and head turned to the young man with the blue hair. The face was gaunt and dead and almost skeleton looking, and by the size of the body the man knew it was of a young girl. He could make out the long auburn hair that was more red than brown. She was wearing a long white gossamer gown that's fashion had gone out of style hundreds of years ago...no thousands of years ago.

The young man could see the girl's body through the thin material of the gown, her body was gaunt like her face and the man could see the girl's bones; her body looked like pale leather stretched thin over a skeleton. The man could make out the girl's budding breasts, as if she had just recently hit puberty. The gown waved in the wind and flowed over the body, but there was no wind in the air. The corpse's hair flowed around the dead girl's head just as her gown flowed around her body. The girl...no the thing opened its eyes and the man could tell the eyes were alive but glowed blood red in the darkness. The body reached out to grab the young man who screamed in fear...

Randell "Ran" Duncan shot up in the bed breathing hard and covered in sweat wakened by the nightmare. He had the nightmare before; always the same but for the body that rose from the grave. Sometimes it was the auburn haired girl and others it was of a young lady with black hair but other than that the nightmare was always exactly the same. The nightmare started three months ago on the night of his twenty-fifth birthday. Then he had the nightmare once a week sometimes twice but lately it was becoming more frequent. It never lasted long and he always woke up just as the body was about to grab him.

"Ummm...hey, baby, you ok?"

Ran turned to the man next to him in the bed. "Yeah just a nightmare. Go back to sleep."

The man sat up in the bed, "I am awake now and so is this." The man lowered the sheet and blanket to expose his large erect penis.

Ran laughed, "I can see."

The man grinned, "Care to help me go back to sleep?"

Ran smiled, "Sure, why not. I am awake anyway."

Ran leaned over as the man lay back on the bed. He kissed him hard on the mouth then started kissing his large, hairy, muscular chest. He kissed his way down and took the large penis in his mouth and started sucking it. The other man moaned in pleasure.

"Fuck, boy, you sure can suck a dick. Don't make me cum. I wanna fuck your ass again."

Ran lifted his mouth off the penis, "Sure." He replied and went back to giving the man a blowjob. After several more moments of this, the man positioned Ran on the bed on his stomach with his butt in the air and entered him from behind.

Ran did not like it when the man or anyone for that matter called him boy. He was twenty-five and a young man despite his looks. Ran was pretty, not handsome or cute or masculine good looking, but pretty. He knew he looked rather feminine, he was short for a man standing five seven with a pretty thin body to match his pretty face. His body was thin but lithe and in very good shape and Ran's blue hair was cut in a short Emo style cut. Yes he looked a lot younger than his twenty-five years, but he still hated to be called a boy

His looks were one reason the man in bed with him approached him at the club earlier this evening. The other was how he looked younger. Jerry was his name, the man in bed with Ran, and he was the masculine straight man with a fetish that kicked in about once or twice a month to have sex with a femboy, a twink male, a bio...what ever term was popular to use nowadays for someone with Ran's looks. He was handsome and built very muscular and about thirty years of age, plus Ran just needed to get laid anyway so he figured why not. He was pleasantly surprised by the above average penis size the man had and unlike a lot of the straight guys Ran had been with sexually, Jerry enjoyed giving oral sex as much as receiving it.

After Jerry withdrew his penis from Ran's butt, he rolled over and removed the condom and let it fall to the floor. Ran smiled in the satisfaction of being fucked anally and was aroused. Jerry was too focused on his own pleasure to help Ran climax this time while inside the younger man as he had done previously. He was just about to ask Jerry if he would like to watch him masturbate to get off when his phone alerted him he had text message. Normally when he was having sex, Ran would ignore the message but the message tone was from someone he knew and he knew the sender would not have text him if it was not important. Ran leaned over and checked the message:

Need to meet now. Have a job for you, B

Ran did not bother replying, B did not need one. B knew the young man would arrive soon.

"Sorry, Jerry, I have to go. Work thing. You got my number, call or text me if you want to hook up. Tonight was a lot of fun."

"Uh, yeah sure, babe, but you know this is just an occasional thing for me right? I mean I ain't gay or anything like that."

Ran rolled his eyes as his back was turned and he was putting on his purple skinny jeans. "Yeah you sure acted gay when you had my dick in your mouth and swallowed my cum." He thought. Ran turned around as he put on his black retro tee-shirt with a GBCG club logo on the front.

"Sure I know, dear, I don't do relationships anyway but I meant it. You get the urge again, get in touch with me. Save you the trouble of going trolling in a gay club. You are handsome and a great fuck and have a real nice cock I enjoyed a lot."

Jerry chuckled, "I will then. Thanks."

Ran put on his white tube socks and his purple high top sneakers and leaned over and kissed Jerry. He then picked up his wallet and cell phone off the nightstand, and put them in his pockets of his jeans; then he picked up a sliver crucifix on a sliver chain, kissed the cross with reverence, and the put it around his neck.

"I never would have taken you for the religious type. The cross and that tattoo on your chest. With the things you did to me and let me do to you tonight religious would be the last thing I would call you." Jerry said as he sat up in the bed.

Ran smiled and leaned over and kissed the man, "We all have our vices. Even Jesus had his doubts in the Garden of Gethsemane. "

Ran walked to the door as Jerry was getting dressed, turned to look at the man again and wished he had more time with him; he sure was handsome. He then left the hotel room.

Ran walked to his car as he looked around the hotel parking lot. There were very few cars in the lot, which did not surprise him. The hotel was not a five star resort or even two stars rated and not even the poorer tourists would choose this Best Western to stay in while on their vacation. Ran noticed a black Ford SUV across the parking lot and it looked out of place to him or it could have just been his paranoia. Either way he walked faster to his car, pressed the remote on his key chain to unlock the door, got in the car, and started the ignition. Ran looked in his rear view mirror and saw the black SUV had also started its engine. Nope not his paranoia.

Ran opened his glove compartment of his Fiat Spider, pressed a white button inside the glove compartment that revealed an electronic key pad. Ran pressed a series of seven numbers and a secret compartment opened within the glove box. He removed a black Colt 1911 model .45 cal. Pistol. Even though he knew it was loaded, it was always loaded, he removed the magazine clip, checked the ammunition and put the clip back in the pistol and chambered a round. Ran placed the gun on the passenger seat, put on his seat belt, and drove out of the parking lot.

He was not worried about getting into legal trouble for the gun if the police stopped him. It was one of his firearms that was legally registered and he had a carry permeant; plus if a cop did arrest him he would be freed without charges and even receive apologies from the police for the arrest with just one phone call.

Ran drove over Arthur Ravenel Jr. Bridge across the Cooper River and into downtown Charleston. As he drove he kept checking the rear view mirror and as he suspected the black Ford was still following him. He relaxed and shook his head. The way the SUV tailed him so obviously he knew he had nothing to fear and had a good suspicion who it was or at least who sent the tail.

Ran drove down E. Bay Street and past the Old Slave Market and turned left on Broad Street. At a little after three in the morning the streets were deserted. Broad Street was considered the invisible boundary line that separated the social classes of Historical Down Town Charleston. If you were born and lived South of Broad you were considered the elite of the elite of Old South Society. The people South of Broad would look down upon anyone who lived north of the "boundary line".

Ran was far removed from that social class. He would be considered "white trash" from the Groves on Mount Pleasant, if his parents had lived to raise him. Ran's parents and twin sister died in an automobile accident when he was three. Well the official reports called it an accident but Ran knew better. He knew what really caused the death of his family. Having no other living relatives, the three year old boy was sent to live in at the Jenkins Orphanage.

At age seven, Ran was placed in the custody of the Catholic Church and sent to live with mother church of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Charleston at the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist. He was officially placed in foster care of the Most Reverend Robert E Chapel, the Bishop of Charleston. Life in the church was a great deal better than life in the orphanage and Ran expected his life would consist of being an altar boy and then when he got older maybe being set to a seminary and becoming a priest but at age ten he found out Bishop Chapel and the Church had other plans for the young orphan boy.

Ran turned into the back parking lot of the church and his tail turned north up Kings Street. Ran parked, placed his pistol back in its hidden compartment; he would not need it here, if he was not safe here he would not have been safe anywhere in the world except maybe the Vatican and got out of the car and waked into the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist.

The church was not the oldest catholic church in Charleston, that honor went to St Mary's, but it was the largest and most elaborate. The architecture of Gothic Revival and the outside was a beautiful and elaborate as the inside. The elaborate front doors were always open for people wanting to pray day or night and being the diocese of Charleston there was always a priest available. Ran walked into the church, dipped his finger in the large, marble, basin of Holy Water, made the sign of the cross over his body, and walked down the long center aisle. He did not bother to look and admire the architecture of the chapel nor admire its beautiful stain glass windows; he had seen them almost every day of his life since he was ten. Instead he made his way to the front row of pews, genuflected on his right knee, once again made the sign of the cross, stood, and sat down on the pew.

Ran took his crucifix, which was personally blessed by the Pope himself, out from under his shirt and prayed. He did not pray for anything particular but just for God to continue to give him guidance and courage to complete his tasks and to thank Him for giving him protection for his past tasks. Ran flinched when a hand firmly gripped his shoulder, too tight for his liking. He looked at his own shoulder, saw a hand wearing a silk black glove gripping it, Ran looked up, and saw the man attached to the hand looking down at him.

The man wore black slacks, black shoes, and a black priest shirt but did not have on his collar. He had a grim ugly face with a broad, flat nose. He stood six foot and his body was in great shape even for his age of fifty three.

"Hello, Monsignor Rowland." Ran said pleasantly.

"He is waiting." The priest replied.

Ran got up and followed the man. He did not care for this particular priest and Monsignor Rowland did not care for Ran. Rowland was way too uptight for Ran's liking and to traditional and conservative in his belief. The priest thought Ran was to free spirited and too liberal in his understanding and belief in the teachings of the church. Ran also thought the older man was very creepy and enjoyed doing some of God's work a little too personal and enjoyed the more bloody aspect of God's Will way too much. Ran knew under that glove was a hand horribly scarred. The scars ran up his hand to his elbow and looked as if they were burned by fire, but in fact they had been burned by water, Holy Water. While they did not like one another nor each other's views on the teachings of the Church, they both knew they did God's Will so they tolerated one another.

Ran followed Rowland out of the sanctuary, down the hallway, past a series of doors that led into Sunday school rooms, meeting halls, offices, a large dining hall, and finally to the last door at the end of long twisting hallway. The priest knocked and then without waiting for an answer opened the door for Ran.

"I trust you are unarmed?" The man asked Ran.

Ran nodded, "I know the rules." He said in an annoyed tone.

Ran entered the large room and Rowland closed the odor behind him. The room was a large office and sitting behind the large oak desk was a man of about sixty-five years of age. He stood as Ran entered the room and smiled as Ran walked to him.

Bishop Chapel was a tall man who reminded Ran of a beardless Abraham Lincoln. He was dressed casual in a pair of tan slacks and a navy blue polo shirt. As Ran approached the Bishop held out his right hand and Ran kneeled on his left knee and kissed the man's ring, a symbol of his authority in the Church. Ran stood as the man sat behind the desk once more.

"Have a seat, Ran." The Bishop waved his hand to the chair in front of his desk.

"Thank you, Excellency."

"I am sorry to bring you in this time of the morning and I hope I did not interrupt your sleep?"

Ran smiled, "No, You're Excellency, and I think you know I was not sleeping. I am sure Rowland's men informed him where I was and he informed you already."

The bishop smiled and nodded, "Yes he did. And it's Monsignor please. He earned that respect and title and has paid dearly for his service to the order."

Ran nodded, "Yes, sir. Sir, if you don't mind can you please tell Row...Monsignor Rowland to stop following me. My personal life is not his concern."

Bishop Chapel smiled again, "I will suggest it. He is just looking out for the best interest of the Church and the Order and he does think your personal life is his concern. You are discreet in your ummm...personal life but Rowland is old fashion and some of the more tolerate views the Church has today does not sit well with him. He still sees homosexuality as a sin against God and nature."

"Your Excellency, he sees lighting a match as a sin against God and witchcraft and would love to see the Church burn people at the stake once again." Ran said sarcastically and the Bishop chuckled, "Plus I am not gay. I like girls also, you know."

The Bishop waved his hand to dismiss the subject, "Yes and they like you as well. But we have more important things to discuss than your vices, or mine or Rowlands. We had a sighting two nights ago."

"Vampire?"

"Yes, an outsider, not a member of the local Kiss. Our reports even say she did not even pay her respects or make herself known to the Master of the City, which means she is either asking for a death sentence or stronger than Nathan. We can't be sure about anything right now because there seems to be chaos with Nathan's Kiss. We believe it's a power struggle."

Ran smiled, "Good let the things kill one another off. I hate we have to accept Nathan's existence and even his information when a new vampire or wereanimal comes blowing into town. We do his dirty work and I don't like it."

"I know, son. I understand how you feel about them and so do I and we know they are damned and an abomination to God, but we are not as strong as we used to be and spread so thin across the world; even the Vatican is hard pressed. Our world is just so large now. Was easier hundreds years or so ago but the world is so populated and opened up now with social media, Facebook, Twitter, and the internet in general."

"Plus you know the Church has been getting so progressive over there years and the beliefs on the evil of the world has changed. Some, even in higher positions of authority than me, don't believe the devil even existed and that the evil you and I have seen only ever existed in fairy tales and ghost stories and others who know that our order exists and what we do even believe we should reach out to these vile creatures and make peace with them. So we have to accept our agreement with Nathan. His people...or things...don't kill or turn anyone and we don't go after him. If they do he turns them over to us. He is made aware of any lone vampires coming into our region we tell us and we kill them. It's like that now on most cities in the U.S. and even getting that way in Europe."

"Fuck them!" Ran exploded. "Agreement or not we should kill them all! And fuck members of the clergy who don't understand or even know what we do!"

"Calm down, son, you are talking about our holy brothers and men appointed by God. I won't have that talk, understand. I will forgive your outburst because your personal feelings of these creatures since they killed your family, but that forgiveness goes only so far."

The Bishop spoke to Ran in an understanding and calm but very frim voice. Like a father chastising his son while trying to teach him right from wrong. Ran knew Bishop Chapel had that way about him. He could curse a person out without using a single curse word or chastise a person whom he loved without that person knowing he was doing so. He was like a father to Ran and he loved the old man as one.

"I am sorry, Your Excellency. You are right, forgive me. But why doesn't the Pope just inform the College of Cardinals about out order? There are only two that know we still exist but others suspect it."

Chapel shook his head, "No we can't. Our order survives on secrecy and always has. Look at what happened when we became too well known, arrogant, cocky, and wealthy. We were all but wiped out. Plus how long do you think we should remain a secret to the world if everyone in the Church knew about us. It takes only one disgruntled priest to spill the beans. The College does God's will and are given their appointment by God but they are still men and men can be corrupt. The Church cannot afford another scandal right now. You and Rowland are the only hunters in the Low Country in this state and Georgia."