The Vampires Vicar

A long nights walk

It was a long walk to the church, but we do not mind. We reflected on days past. We reflected on our last time in a church, attending our own funerals, and our wedding in that same church days before. We noted the changes in the churches since the days of our youth. We arrived before the mass, opened the door without being stuck down by lightning, and entered the building. The myth that vampyres and “evils” cannot enter a church is a common misconception. Some of the most evil deeds are sometimes done inside the four sacred walls of a sanctuary.

We took our seats, trying to blend in with the crowd. The candlelit service combined with modern clothing trends made this easier. However, the curse upon us always makes us stand out. Mortal Man can’t quite put their finger on why, but we always feel different to them. It makes them uneasy since the curse we suffer could cause us to become cold blooded killers.

The service was simple, a sermon, followed by holy sacrament, and closing in prayer and the option confess and repent, giving a clean heart and soul for celebration of the death of Christ.

The confessional. This is the key to our plan. It’s been rehearsed many times. In hopes he will understand our plights and know that we do not mean him harm.

Entering the confessional, we partake of the holy water, and enter. I speak, telling the vicars descendant, the newly ordained Michael James Bordeaux, of our plight.

I begin by telling that It has been 250 years since my last confession, and that this was before my wedding, and my apparent death.

Despite all our plans, this is the moment all he’ll broke loose. All of the many superstitions came, and the preacher held his silver cross in front of us, and sprayed the garlic essence. We did not melt, nor did we fall away in pain. We simply waited, hoping he would calm and hear us out.

“Out, evil beings! Be Gone! You cannot dwell in the house of the Lord!” The young minister yelled.

“Sir, we seek not evil, nor do we wish you harm! Please, we need your help!” My sweet wife begged. “You alone are the only one who can break our cursed existence. We have waited so long for a descendant to be ordained. You must believe us!”

The young pastor Bordeaux stopped, turned to us questioning, stunned, and asked “you wish to end your wicked existence? You have waited for a descendent of whom? What are you? Who are you? And why are you here now?

My sweet Rebecca began by recounting the story of her first betrothal, the discovery of his dealing with the devil, and the curse placed on her for reporting his dealings with the devil and his plan to overthrow the king. I spoke of his death, and the curse we thought had died with him. We spoke of our attempts to end our own curse through suicide.

We were disappointed. Though he understood our efforts, and wished to help us, he had no immediate answers. We knew this was our likely outcome, but we had hoped that tonight would be the night when we would know more. Nevertheless, he requested we meet again in 4 weeks time. He would seek counsel and do research and any possible cures to our endless plight.

And so, we wait. It is agony, but no more so than the last 250 years.