Chapter 22: Hail to the Queen

February 1999

I now know at the time of this writing, that they had no power to transform me, or in other words, infect me with the same demon that inhabited them. The nightmare that I was entering was so strange to me that I did not quite know how to deal with it, and I am supposed to be the expert! I guess even Christian warriors lose their nerve occasionally. Blitzed by a reality that I was not ready to accept, much less comprehend, my mind struggled with what I had just experienced. A death! No! A murder! Moreover, I did not do anything to stop it. I felt so ashamed, so impotent. Though I was having trouble accepting what I had just seen, I had immediately been compelled to follow Dread’s instructions to the letter. What power these beings have!

I had put my hands to my face so that I would not have to look at her. Nevertheless, through my fingers I stared in amazement at the woman in black as I watched the subtle changes in her appearance take shape. Claws retracted, and fangs disappeared! It was now that I found myself doubting my own sanity! The transformation included the extinguishing of the burning glow in her eyes, where the pupils were supposed to be located. Those haunting eyes were dark violet again. She was no longer on the prowl—for now.

As she took her dark eyes off me, she spoke in a soft voice (still whispery, still ... smoky), of European accent, to her mortal guardians and servants. “See that she is properly disposed of. As for him, send him to his quarters, let him rest and think, but do not let him sleep. I want him to know the reality of his situation.” After that, she turned and left the room, gliding down the hall with her counselor, the one called Anubis.

Two familiars, Mortis and Necro, came to dispose of the lifeless body of the young girl, wrapping her in a plastic sheet, carrying her out of the room. Another pair of mortal familiars, Leech and Moon, came and escorted me to a bedroom on the upper floor of the mansion. It would be later that I would have time to learn about and interact with all these mortal familiars and others not mentioned here.

I tried to resist their coaxing and pushing me along out of the room. My morbid curiosity kept drawing me back into the room, as I wanted to talk to the woman, ask her questions, and plead with her for pity sake to undo the murder. However, Leech and Moon were extraordinarily strong and skilled at subduing others, having had a great deal of practice. They were able to pull me out of the room and take me to another room down the hall.

I kept asking them “Where are you taking me?” and “What are you going to do to me?” They would not answer me. I thought that they would lock me in a cell or some basement somewhere in the house and leave me in the dark for a while. That is not what happened.

The room I was put in was a beautiful bedroom (better than what I had at home!), which was fabulously furnished. This room had color to it, as it had beautiful window treatments and ornate furniture. No doubt, some exceptionally fine antiques. I sat and waited, staring out the window, and then after considering my situation, I began to pray. I prayed for strength and courage, wisdom and patience, all the usual things a Christian prayer would include. Perhaps I should have asked for understanding also. I tried to keep focused on my Lord, as I felt like Daniel in the Lions” Den. When dawn came, I wanted to sleep. Just as Leech and Moon had kept me up all through the night, Dread and Necro performed this function throughout the day. They all were nice to me. They kept the room cold, gave me coffee, and talked to me. They even allowed me to ask questions, which they answered as best they could, but for the most part, they answered in riddles and circles. They told me to keep thinking of the exhibition I has seen.

How could I forget? Nevertheless, just as their Queen had ordered, they would not let me sleep. I could not sit on the bed, nor sit in a comfortable chair. I could stand, walk around the room, or sit on the floor or the hassock, which was in front of the wing-backed easy chair. This went on for two days. I was on the brink of crashing to the floor in exhaustion.

I was exhausted when the forty-eight-hour period finally ended. With no knock on the door, Dread, the chief of security, came into the room. The other two left. He announced, “My Queen will grant you the audience you are so eager for. She will answer all your questions in good time, when you are ready for her to reveal those answers. I am to brief you in etiquette and demeanor when you speak to her.”

I was confused, not to mention my attention span was short after being up for two days. A Queen? What was really going on here?

I do remember Dread stating flatly, “She is to be treated as any person of royalty. You will conduct yourself with dignity and be grateful you are alive in her presence. She is enormously powerful ... mighty beyond your comprehension. She can read your thoughts and can sense things about you. She can tell if you are a good person or an evil one. She can dispense justice upon those who would seek to destroy us, and she can reward those who serve her with riches and special gifts, gifts found no other place in the world. It is best to let her ask questions, tell you the facts and limits of your situation, and let you know what your purpose is here. Above all, do not accuse her of an act that you consider a crime. Do not presume you are her judge or any other person here. You are not! Above all, show respect, but do not show fear. She will know!” He slowly turned, lit one candle, turned out the lights, and left the room.

For the first time in two days, I was alone. Sitting in the easy chair was comfortable yet it made me afraid to fall asleep. I was a bit excited to meet someone with answers to my questions. Therefore, I was not about to go nodding off, even if I had not slept in forty-eight hours. The waiting seemed endless, as there was not any way to tell time in the room. I figured that must be something else that vampires do not like in addition to mirrors: Clocks and watches. It reminds them of eternity, I suppose. After about twenty minutes, I heard the doorknob turn, the door slowly opening. I stood up and walked to the end of the bed, trying to stay alert.

She wore a brilliant red velvet cloak over a renaissance-style dress, complete with bodice. The cloak with a medieval style hood covered her head, hiding any semblance of identity one might have come to recognize. She drifted in silently, almost floating into the room. Her entourage treated her as if she were royalty. She had been their ruler, protector, and their benefactor for literally ages, representing the only authority that their poor existence had known since their transformation into her dark world. The experience must have been the feeling of inescapable doom followed by a rebirth into a creature that senses its superiority over the race that it had once been a member. It would be like a ten-point buck getting bagged in the middle of deer season, only coming back the next season as an accomplished hunter of the species it had once been, complete with rifle and night vision goggles. I felt as if I had a rack of antlers on my head.

They had brought me to this mansion for a reason. How could I have imagined the explanation I was about to receive? The woman in the red cloak sat down in the comfortable wing backed chair and began to speak. Her voice was gentle, soft and yet somewhat smoky, as if some special audio equipment generated her voice. It was eerie, yet calming at the same time, maybe even angelic. “Malcolm Harris, I welcome this opportunity to meet with you. We, my family and I, have been watching you for some time. I apologize in that we did not contact you in a conventional manner. However, circumstances do not permit it in that we are not conventional people.” I still could not see her face underneath the red velvet hood. She was thin, but not a waif. Words like elegant, graceful and tall described her. Her entourage of followers lined up against the wall of the room, almost standing at attention.

“We need your assistance in a particularly important matter. It is a matter that concerns all that you cherish, and love,” (she spoke even softer and slower now) “and that which you have come to believe in and trust with all your heart. Please, sit down Malcolm Harris.”