LETTERS FROM HELLSING VII

The next few weeks truly are still, well, hazy. I was in a hospital drugged to the gills on pain killers really not paying much attention to much of anything.

People came and went. Sometimes they talked to me, asking me strange questions. Sometimes they stood around my bed and discussed me as if I weren’t even there which, in all fairness, was close to accurate. Often I would hallucinate conversations with people and things that could not possibly be there. At least I think they weren’t really there. It’s hard to tell what’s real when you're hallucinating. I think.

The boy cam to see me once or twice. I know at least that much was real. I remember him holding my hand. His name is Richard. Such a big name for such a little boy. My little boy...
God how I miss my little boy.

The tall man came once, late one night. He said very little to me. Just pulled back my covers to inspect his work while reading my chart. He gave a satisfied grunt and pinched me on my cheek.
He held a brief conversation about me with someone standing in the doorway. She, the figure in the doorway, seemed angry with the man that I was still alive. Demanding to know exactly what he had done to me, why he had done it and what was I?

Good question

He would only say that he had made a deal with her God.

This seemed to make the woman angrier which seemed to amuse the man.

"But what is she? What are we to do with her?"

"She will be my angel and she will be very .... useful to us. You will see."

"Useful how?"

"You will have to figure that out."

"This isn’t a game you know."

He ignored her and looked back down at me. "You will keep your word, won’t you angel?" I nodded feeling slightly apprehensive. Which, considering my level of medication, is amazing.

He bent over the bed, touched my cheek and smiled. "Good girl." he murmured and was gone.

The shadowy person was still in the doorway. I could feel the annoyance rolling off of her towards me.

"What did you promise in exchange for your life?" She demanded, addressing me directly for the first time.

"To obey God’s will." I said.

"God’s will?"

"Yes."

"What does that mean?"

"He made a deal with God."

"What was the deal?"

"I don’t know."

"What is your part in the deal?"

"I don’t know."

"What are you supposed to do?"

"I don’t know."

"Then how...?!"

"God will show me."

With a snort of disgust, the shadowy figure stalked away.

Relieved that the angry voice was gone, I drifted back into a pleasant, drug induced stupor.

LETTERS FROM HELLSING VI

What happened next is a bit of a blur and I am still not sure how much of it was real and how much delusion.

There was a lot of pain, I remember that much. I remember the man removing the glove of his right hand and raising that hand to his mouth. I watched as sharp teeth ripped open his wrist just below the palm. Then saw him swing his arm down towards me and shove his hand, bleeding wrist and all, into my wound.

God, then pain, blood, his, mine, everywhere.

I heard voices babbling. Brushing up against my mind, whispering warnings and secrets, gone as fast as they came.

A woman’s voice, speaking in a language I did not understand swirled through my mind. She seemed to be talking to me about the tall man. Asking me to do something, calling him by name.
I was just starting to grasp her meaning on some level when it slipped away into the current of noise.

Voices, music, and strange, unfamiliar sounds were washing back and forth in my mind. The clashing of two heartbeats surging against each other. Mistimed pulses fighting for control. And everywhere, the pain and the blood.

The stronger pulse won. Two hearts began to beat in time with one another. I could feel it like a tide flowing through me, out of me, into him, out of him, in to me. The voices flowed with the blood, chanting dark secrets best forgotten.

I sensed, rather than saw him, reach out his left arm toward the other flagpole which seemed to fly into his outstretched hand. He pulled his bleeding hand out from inside of me and used it to grasp the silver cross finial of the flagpole.

It started to glow and stretch, then three thin wires of molten silver began to pull themselves from the cross. They writhed between his fingers like living things growing longer and thinner. There was smoke and the smell of burning flesh began to permeate the room.

Suddenly, he released the cross. The wires snapped and twined reaching, straining, towards his hand growing still longer and thinner. He brought his hand down fingers spread and arching over my wound. The silver threads surged down in pursuit diving between his fingers and plunging into my body.

The searing agony of the molten silver twisting inside me snapped me out of my haze. A scream of pain escaped from my lips and before I could stop myself my hand came up and began beating against his chest trying to push him away.

"Stop!" his voice commanded. Somehow, I obeyed and ceased struggling as the wire bit into my flesh over and over under his direction weaving my torn body back together again. Then he drew his hand back from my body. I could feel the stitches tighten inside me and the heat began to die down.

"Bring it here." he said to the medic who had returned with a Gurney his eyes wide with fear

"What did you do to her?" The medic asked, voice trembling.

The tall man did not even look at the medic. He lifted me gently up, as if I weighed nothing, and settled me onto the stretcher. He smiled down at me and said, "We made a deal with your God, didn’t we Angel?" He brushed my cheek with his hand smearing it with blood.

He glanced at his hand, just seeming to notice the gore. His wrist seemed to have completely healed itself. He brought his hand up to his mouth and casually sucked the blood off of one of his fingers giving me a wicked look. I could hear the medic gasp and choke slightly behind me.

I smiled at the tall man’s mischief and reaching out a hand to grasp his lapel, pulled his head close to mine. "I don’t care if you are a monster." I whispered "You saved those children and I owe you for their lives. I will keep that promise."

"You will live to regret that statement." he said smiling.

"I am sure I will." I said, and then murmured something, I don’t remember what, I don’t even think it was in English. I only remember his eyes widening as he asked me to repeat what I had said.

I did not answer. The music had started again and I was already quietly singing along; "Precious memories, how they linger..."

LETTERS FROM HELLSING V

The tall man stepped over the headless corpse of my attacker and stood in front of me, a puzzled look on his face.

"The children..." I wheezed, unable to take a real breath as the flagpole was pressing against my diaphragm. "The children..." I tried again "In there." I said attempting to gesture with my arms. They felt like lead.

The man nodded once then, placing one hand on my shoulder and gripping the pole with the other, pulled the bloody object from my body.

Dear God, it hurt.

Without the flagpole’s support, my knees buckled and I began to fall. Gently, the man eased me to the ground to one side of the podium.

"That looks bad." I heard a voice say. I became aware of other people in the room. There were several men dressed in combat gear with ski masks over their faces. "SWAT team" I assumed and wondered they would think of this scene and my strange rescuer.

They weren’t even fazed. One man with a medical bag strode up to me pulling out a pressure bandage as he examined my wound. "Hold this here." he said placing my hand over the bandage. "That’s it, your going to be just fine."

"Liar" I thought. He looked up at the tall man and shook his head a fraction. Sometimes I hate being right. The medic’s hand strayed to his sidearm. The tall man glared at him and medic’s hand dropped to his side.

Another man strode up to my rescuer. "Any other survivors?" he asked.

"Children" I burbled a bit louder now that the pressure was off of my diaphragm. The new man avoided looking directly at me staring at the podium instead. You’d think they had never seen a woman bleeding to death from a flagpole wound before.

"In there." my rescuer said pushing the heavy podium aside with a flick of his arm. The new man walked up, tried the knob, then knocked on the door.

"Anybody in there? It’s safe to come out now."

"Who is it? Are you the good guys?"

"The what?" the man said.

"The lady said we mustn’t come out until she or the good guys said it was OK. So, are you a good guy?"

The man seemed totally taken aback. "Well, yes, I am a good guy, I suppose." He said reaching again for the doorknob.

"Prove it."

"What?"

"How do we know you’re the good guys? Prove that you’re the good guys."

"Oh, um, how do I do that?" he asked

There was a brief whispered conversation behind the door, then silence. "We don’t know."

There seemed to be an impasse. I couldn’t help laughing a little but it really hurt. "My heroes, thwarted by five children in a closet." The medic looked down at me meeting my eyes for the first time. They were smiling but sad.

More whispers from behind the door. "Is the lady still here?" They asked.

"Yes" I said.

"Hey lady, is it safe to come out? Is he the good guys?"

I laughed again and locked gazes with the tall man who was looking at me with a thoughtful, puzzled expression. Perhaps he was wondering why I wasn’t dead yet. I wondered that myself. I smiled at him. "Yes, he’s the ‘good guys’, I think."

"Are all the monsters gone?"

"I’m not quite sure..." I said still looking at the man. He gave me an amused smile revealing very sharp teeth. "but I think it will be OK to come out now."

I knew I should be afraid of him but found myself liking him despite the warning bells ringing in my head. What was he? Not human, that’s for certain.

"Please," I said to him "don’t let them see me like this."

Eyes never leaving mine, he removed his overcoat and placed it over me like a blanket. "Why did you do that?" he asked kneeling beside me.

"What?" I asked.

"Hit him." Said the man.

"Well...he was going to kill you and I..." I trailed off, hindsight making that statement ridiculous.

"Not necessary." he said.

"I didn’t know what you were." I said.

"Still foolish." He chided.

"Perhaps" I said.

He looked as if he were going to speak again when the closet door flew open. Five pairs of eyes peered fearfully out upon the wreckage. The tall man stood up, moving to one side so that the children could see me.

"It’s OK." I said. "You can come out. These men will take you to safety."

My little boy ran over to me. "Your hurt." he said taking my hand.

"Not too bad." I lied. "These men will help me. You go with the others now."

"No!" he said. "I won’t leave you!"

"I need you to go with the others." I said. He shook his head. "You are brave. You are my helper. Please help the other children be brave too." My head was spinning now and the boy looked as if he were going to refuse. "Please God," I prayed "don’t let me die in front of him."

The tall man knelt down on the other side of me and looked at the boy. "You are a brave boy" he said. "and the lady is hurt. Will you please help the other children while we take care of her?"

I felt that strange fog again as he spoke those words. A compulsion to obey. Perhaps it was the blood loss but the words kept bouncing around like an echo in my head even after he stopped speaking. To my astonishment, the boy nodded to the man, squeezed my hand, then walked over to the other children who were being herded out the door. I looked up at the tall "man" again. What was he really?

"Go with the children and come back with a Gurney." He said to the medic who was standing behind him fidgeting with the holster of his gun.

"But.." he said, gesturing towards me.

"She’s as good as dead. We both know that" The tall man snapped. The medic looked over at me horrified. Like I didn’t already know. Oddly, I didn’t really care that much anyway. The children were safe and my head was spinning in a pleasant way as if I were a bit drunk and I could hear singing from far away. Old hymns, I loved old hymns. I began quietly singing along.

"Your job is with the living. It’s my job to deal with the dead."

"Precious memories, how they linger" I murmured peacefully.

"But sir," the other man continued his hand on his gun. Odd thing for a medic to do. Oh well.

"So I cherish the Old Rugged Cross..."

"Leave us." The tall man commanded and we were alone.

"Human," he said. "it’s time to listen."

I looked at him but he was not looking at me. He was looking at the flagpole with the cross.

"Thank you." I said. "For the children." I began to cry. "I promised..."

"I know. You'r welcome. You are going to die soon." He said matter of factually.

"I know." I said.

"Do you want to die?"

"Not really"

"I can save you."

Fear washed over me like a cold slap of water. The music stopped.

"No, not that." I said horrified at the thought of what he might turn me into.

"You prefer to die?"

"If that is His will."

"Why did you do it?" He asked quietly. His puzzled expression had returned. "What made you stand and fight?"

"It was the right thing to do."

"It was stupid." He said. "Foolish!"

"Giving up would have been stupid." I said. "You proved that by saving us."

"Then why give up now? Why not let me save you?"

Good question. "I don’t know why but I can feel it. It’s not his will that I become like you. It’s... well... your... wrong..." I reached up and touched his lapel. "I’m sorry."

He smiled. "I am not easily offended."

He looked over at the cross again then back at me. "And if it were his will that you live?"

"His will be done."

"Will you trust me?" He asked looking deep into my eyes. There was no fog this time, only the question. I felt no fear.

"Trust me" The quiet voice whispered.

I returned his steady stare and smiled. "Of course I trust you. You’re the good guys right?"

He smiled back. "And you shall be my Angel."

LETTERS FROM HELLSING IV

Power shot through me like a searing flame. My fear and anger were burnt away leaving only room for that voice. That voice, which I knew somehow, would let me keep my promise to that little boy. I did not even care at this point if I lived or died, but this...thing was not going to get those children!

Another chair bent, then another, and another. They seemed to jump into my hand as I needed them.

The voice, stronger now, was singing through my veins. The blood was pounding in my ears. My head was spinning. Distantly I could hear someone singing. Not well, but loudly.

"GOD IS BIGGER THAN THE, BOOGEY MAN!"

"Stop singing you stupid bitch!" the man screamed.

Startled, I realized it was me singing. I took a deep breath and bellowed out at the top of my lungs, "HE’S BIGGER THAN GODZILLA OR THE MONSTERS ON TV!"

He snarled and began advancing toward me. The blood was pounding so hard in my ears that I could barely hear myself. So I sang out louder. "OH GOD IS BIGGER THAN THE, BOOGEY MAN AND HE’S WATCHING OUT FOR YOU AND ME!!!"

I could almost feel the children smiling behind that door. I smiled back. Tears were streaming down my face and my head was pounding; "Thump, Thump, Thump, Bang!", but I was smiling.

He had just about reached me and I was just about to start verse 2, when he hesitated and cocked his head as if listening to something. I could not hear a thing for the blood pounding in my ears "Thump, Thump, Bang! Thump. Thump, Bang! Bang! Thump".

Bang?... No wait, that’s not right.

The man turned towards the door, he held up his hand and the ghouls instantly froze. So did I.
It was dead quiet.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" Gunshots rang out in the hall. Then the sound of footsteps, then "Bang!" another shot, closer than the last. I sagged with relief. The police. The police had come at last!
A single set of footsteps echoed in the hall.

A man appeared in the doorway. He was tall and thin with wild black hair and dressed from head to toe in red. Well, not quite. His boots were black but his hat, his overcoat, even his glasses were all a deep brownish red. He took in our strange tableau and smiled.

"I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner" he said in a deep, smooth voice "but why don’t you try picking on someone your own size?"

He seemed to be alone. "Where are the others? Where are the police?!" I screamed in my head while frantically craning my neck to see past him.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" said my attacker.

The man in red ignored the question, glancing at me where I still stood panting with a twisted metal chair in my hands. "Your dance card looks a little full. Do you mind if I take a few admirers off your hands?"

I stared at him speechless. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. How could this strange man possibly save us from these monsters?

"I don’t know who you think you are" said my attacker, "but if you wish to die a hero, I am happy to oblige you." He flicked his hand towards the man in red in a dismissive manner. The ghouls swung around and lurched towards my would be rescuer.

Slowly, almost lazily, the tall man reached into his overcoat and pulled out two of the most enormous handguns I had ever seen. One silver and one black, both glinting dangerously in the light.

My attacker gave a snort of contempt "you guns won’t harm me!" He laughed.

The man in red glanced over at me and smiled in a truly frightening way, winked, then addressed my attacker. "No, but the bullets will." and began to fire. A loud terrible booming in that small space. I flinched at the sound, dropping the chair.

The man moved into the room aiming and firing over and over so quickly his arms seemed to blur. I stumbled back as ghouls began to explode around me.

"Yes, silver bullets will most definitely kill scum like you." he said.

"Silver?" my attacker gasped.

"Yes." the man said "Now, will you stand and fight or must I waste more time on your filthy undead puppets?"

"Kill him!" my attacker screamed.

The ghouls lurched forward from all directions hurling any objects they could find at the man in red. The coffee pot whizzed past his head knocking off his wide brimmed hat. He pivoted and fired at the ghouls coming up behind him momentarily turning his back to us.

My attacker pounced on the opportunity. He pushed past me shoving me hard against the podium as he snatched up the flagpole with the Union Jack. He pointed the Fleur-delis finial at the man’s back and began to charge.

"No!" I screamed, as my hands closed down on the only weapon I could find. I ran up behind that horrible man and just as the man in red began to turn around, I brought that big bible down on my attackers head as hard as I could.

He did not go down. He just got angry.

He turned, and impaled me on the flagpole instead. The bible dropped from my hands as the force of the blow drove me back up against the podium. "That’s it for you bitch!" He snarled. He smiled as he twisted the pole "Does it hurt?"

Suddenly the tall man in red was behind him. Gripping his shoulder with one hand he reached around my attackers head with his other arm and pulled. There was a sickening crack as the head was snapped around to face backwards.

"What are you?" my attacker asked.

The tall man smiled, placing the silver muzzle of his gun against my attackers head "You’ll just have to die disappointed." he said, then pulled the trigger.

letters from Hellsing III

I felt a gentle pressure on my leg. The Children! My head snapped up and I found my self staring once again to that little boy’s eyes. He had refused to leave me. When I had tried to hand him through the window to safety, he had screamed and struggled until I gave up and began passing other children through as he clung to my leg quiet and content. He reached out and touched my cheek brushing aside my tears and said "It’s going to be OK.".

I looked at the boy and then over at the little alter. "Trust me" a small quiet voice inside said.
At that instant, the fog in my mind cleared.

I looked back down at the boy and said. "That’s right. Everything is going to be OK!" to him. "Somehow." I said to myself. Taking the boy in one hand and dashing away tears of self pity (never again, I promised) with the other, I strode towards the small closet.

"Everyone come here!" I said in a cheerful voice. The remaining children gathered quietly around me as I kneeled down. "We set off the alarm when we broke that window so the police are on their way" I said. "They will come and save us from these, these..."

"Monsters?" suggested a little girl.

"Yes, monsters. Like in a bad dream. Now, all we have to do is hide from the monsters until the good guys come to save us. OK?"

Small, hopeful smiles and nods. A couple of squeaked "OK’s". They trusted me. Believed what I was telling them must be true. "Dear God. Please let me be right" I thought.

"Trust me." The small voice said.

I slapped my thighs "Alright, huddle up! Here’s the plan" I said gathering them into my arms as best I could. "I want you to go into that closet and close the door. You stay in there, quiet like little mice, until the good guys come to save us. Do not come out until either I or the good guys say the monsters are gone OK?"

"Come with us." said my little boy.

"No. My job is to stay out here and distract the monsters until the good guys come."

"How?"

Damn! "Um..."

"Trust me"

"The bible. I’ll show them the bible and that cross. Everyone knows monsters are scared of crosses because they belong to God and God can beat them up." ....What am I saying?... "So I’ll fight the monsters with this bible until the good guys come. It’s a big bible, it will protect me."... Your raving mad woman... "So come on now hurry, into the closet all of you so I can do my job."

"What’s our job?" Asked my boy.

I smiled at him. "Pray hard for the good guys to get here real soon." I said and closed the door.
I leaned against the door for a moment and glanced at the flag with the cross. "I am not going to let him die." I said "I am not going to let ANY of them die.".

"Trust me"

I ran over to the big podium and began pushing it towards the closet. There was a loud crack and the door to the greenroom was flung off its hinges. With a desperate heave, I shoved the podium against the closet door. I sprinted to the center of the room and cast about for a weapon.
The horrible man was standing in the doorway grinning at me. "There you are my dear. Sorry to have kept you waiting."

I backed up a couple of steps still looking for a weapon and almost tripped over a folding chair. My hand closed over it. Any port in a storm.

"Where are the little ones my dear? My friends are hungry."

I swung the chair up and waived it at him threateningly. His grin only broadened.

"Still some fight left in you? You know you can’t win. Just give up now and I promise to make it almost painless."

I could feel the fog trying to descend again. I did not trust myself to speak so instead I glared at him in what I hoped to be a very brave and defiant "Fuck you" manner. The fact that I was trembling uncontrollably probably did not help.

The man sighed with feigned sorrow and shook his head. "I guess my friends will have to work a little for their supper." Pointing to the closet door he said "Get the ones in there and pull them apart, slowly. Leave the woman alive. I want her to watch."

He flashed the most charming smile at me as the ghouls streamed past him into the room. "Come here my dear like a good little girl."

I felt a pull towards the door.

"Fuck you!" I screamed in my head again and forced myself to step sideways to block the ghouls' path to the door. I felt a strange power surge suddenly through me. I pulled my arms back and swung the chair as hard as I could across the head of the first ghoul.

He went down like a ton of bricks.

"Good girl" said the voice.

Arms tingling, I swung again hitting the body of the next ghoul. "THWACK!" I hit him so hard the chair bent and his body flew back with a force that knocked down two others of his kind.

"How am I doing this?" I thought. "I am not that strong."

That Strange power began to well up in me again. Flowing through every part of me, singing in my soul.

"Trust me"

"Ah!" Without even looking I reached out, grabbed another chair, and held it ready.

The man applauded. "Bravo! Very good! Very good! I like my food with a little fight but come now my dear, that’s enough. You could get injured and I don’t want to waste a drop of you. There is no one left who can save you. Drop the chair and come here now!"

There was no fog this time. I felt no compulsion to obey. I was still terribly afraid but I could feel this power flowing through me and I could hear that voice whispering 'trust me' and I did.

I locked eyes with the man, shook my head, and smiled.

He seemed puzzled and annoyed.

"Have it your way then. Kill her!" he growled and snapped his fingers. The ghouls who had stood swaying gently back and forth while the man spoke, turned as one and began to shuffle towards me en mass.

"This is it" I thought.

"Trust me"

"Thy will be done" I whispered. I took a deep breath and began swinging.

Letters from Hellsing II

I ran across the orchestra pit to the door and praying, turned the handle. It swung open revealing a large, low ceilinged room running underneath the length of the stage. Two or three doors were set along the back wall. Over one of the doors was a glowing plastic "Exit" sign. It was the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

I turned back to waive more people down the steps and looked right into the eyes of a ghoul. She was stumbling down the steps, eating what appeared to be an arm. She dropped it and began reaching towards me with a gurgling sound. I screamed and ran for the exit sign dragging children as I went.

"Hurry, Hurry! This way!" the young man called from somewhere up above. He was there ahead of me kicking at the back door and cursing. It had been chained shut.

"The window" I screamed to him. He stopped kicking and looked around. There, on the floor was one of those old flat irons. The kind you used to have to heat up on a stove. Just the thing to prop open a door to catch a breeze on a hot summer day. He picked it up and smashed it against the window in the door. The glass shattered and a blaring alarm went off.

I looked ruefully at the small opening. "Can you get through?" I asked the young man.

"I think so." he said.

"OK, you go first and I’ll hand them through to you."

"What about you?" he shouted over the alarm.

"I’ll come out last after the children."

We both knew this to be a lie as it was painfully obvious that there was no way I could ever fit through that window. But we also knew that there was no time to argue about it so he handed me the little girl (his youngest sister it turned out later) and squeezed through the window.
I began picking up children and passing them through to safety. I was just lifting the 3rd child through when the remaining kids began screaming. I looked behind me and saw several ghouls advancing towards us. They were moving slowly, but surely in our direction.

I managed to hand two more children through the window before my nerve broke. "Run!" I screamed shoving the children before me. I had seen that horrible man from the stage. He was smiling and waiving at us like we were some old friends he had just spotted across a crowded restaurant. Panicking, I wrenched open the nearest door and without even looking to see what was in there, began pushing the remaining children into the room. I glanced back down the hall. He still stood there smiling.

"I’ll be right with you my dear, just as soon as I finish my appetizer." He shouted above the alarm. His smile broadened as he held up a small child who was staring at him with enormous eyes. "Waive to the nice lady" he said raising the child’s limp hand and wiggling it back and forth.

"Won’t be a minute." he said. "You just wait for me there, that’s a good girl."

I bolted through the door, slammed it shut and leaned against it panting with fear. I could hear his laughter echoing through the wood. I thumbed the lock and grabbed a chair jamming it under the doorknob as I’d seen done in the movies. Like that would keep out a vampire.

I looked around. The children stood gravely silent, staring at me. We seemed to have run into the old Green room which the producer had converted into a makeshift chapel for "Fellowship Time" before the performances. There were several folding chairs lined up in front of a podium which had a large bible placed on top. To either side was a flag pole stuck in a heavy base. One flag was white with a golden cross wrapped in red flames. The other was a Union Jack. An old battered couch, a side table with a coffee maker and a few overstuffed chairs scattered about the room made up the rest of the furnishings. A door in the wall near the podium stood open. It led into a closet which contained a card table and a few more folding chairs. That was it.

The alarm cut off abruptly. I could hear shuffling footsteps in the hall and scrabbling sounds as the horrors outside attempted to open the door. There was nowhere to run. We were trapped.

We were going to die.

I gave up, collapsing sideways onto the nearest folding chair. I stared at the door. I was so tired. I had been praying in my mind for escape this whole time. Perhaps, I should begin praying for a quick and painless death instead.

So tired...

So easy to sit. Just sit quietly and accept my fate.

The thoughts rolled through my mind like a comforting fog. I closed my eyes. Why keep fighting? It won’t make a difference and it will just frighten the children that much more. Why should they die so afraid? The scrabbling sound grew louder as a comfortable apathy swathed my brain in a soft, calm gauze.

LETTERS FROM HELLSING

A friend of mine who lives in the UK found this journal in the wreckage of a burned out car he was towing. The contents disturbed him greatly and he was afraid, for reasons which will become apparent later, to publish this in England. He thought that as I, like her, worked for a public library and we seemed to be from the same state, I might be able to figure out who she was and whether or not the story she wrote was true. It's too large to post in one go so I will publish it in sections in hopes the author will come forward. I can only pray she is still alive to tell me who she is. 

I had decided to take the job to get away from the stress.

Ha!

It sounded perfect for me. The job was fun, the people were friendly and a free trip to Europe all expenses paid. It was a short term commitment and I had plenty of leave available at my old job. They even said I could bring my son. What could possibly go wrong?

Ha! (I know I said that already but it bears repeating)

So here I am, lying in a bed, in a basement, with semi-healed wounds, silver wires holding my internal organs together. Not even in a proper hospital. National health my foot. Ow! And you would think that I would get some sympathy for what I’ve been through, but no!

........ Perhaps it would help if I backed up a little to give you some context. I am a 40 year old divorced mother from the United States. Sounds glamorous so far doesn’t it? Wait, there’s more. I majored in History and Secondary Education in college, have an extensive background in customer service and collection and currently work for a public library.

"Stop! Stop!" you say. "I can’t take it all in. Wow! You are so cool!"
Yes, yes, I know. Stay with me it will get better, I promise.

After the divorce, I was in a rut. Ironically part of the reason for the divorce was to get out of the rut but I just seemed to find a new one and jumped right into it. I was going crazy. So when a friend, who had a job with this traveling Family Theater group, had an accident which made him unable to travel, I jumped at the chance to take his place for the final leg of the tour. I managed to get an extended leave from work and soon found myself on my way to Europe for 8 weeks.

Suddenly, I was stage manager, wardrobe mistress and unofficial prompter for a popular Christian family musical review participating in an "International, Interfaith, Cultural Exchange Series".

The producer was a big man on "family values". He also had a big family (6 kids) which he brought with him along with his wife, a cook, a nanny, 2 dogs and a hamster named skip. He agreed that my son and I could be folded into the "family" for 8 weeks so I could bring him along. 3 weeks into my stint with the company, we opened in London.

Everything was in its usual state of opening night affairs, a sort of controlled chaos right on the edge of panic. Business as usual and I was right in the thick of it. My son and some of the other kids had come down with a cold and so were "home" at the hotel with the nanny. It was quite crowded, the animated series being very popular in the UK, and we were wall to wall with sugared up children and exasperated parents.

We were about ½ through act II. I was in the auditorium helping the board man with his light queues when all hell broke loose.

It’s still like a dream.

It started with a scream from above and the body of one of the theater technicians crashing to the stage. There was a break in the taped music and for a brief moment, the theater was deathly quiet. Then, as one of the actors bent to the fallen man, the sound of harsh laughter boomed down from the catwalks. Bodies frozen with fear, our eyes swiveled upwards to the source of the chilling sound.

A figure leapt down from above and landed lightly on the stage next to the actor and the fallen man. He was huge, well over six feet tall and grossly obese. His arms were unnaturally long and his face was oddly bruised and puffy. He looked a bit like a grey orangutan.

He glanced around the theater with wild glowing eyes and smiled. "The show must go on." he said and snapped his fingers. The music blared out. Casually, he reached out with one hand to the actor next to him and ripped his throat open. The large man chuckled and tossed the actor's body to one side. As he reached for the next closest person, an actress who stood transfixed, paralyzed with fear a scream rang out from the back of the auditorium and the spell was broken.

The audience began to panic and stampede towards the doors. The big man laughed again as he pulled the now struggling actress towards him. "Don’t leave" he shouted "you’ll miss the best part!" He snapped his fingers again then embraced the actress tightly. She screamed and he laughed with delight. He began dancing her around the stage singing to the blaring, happy music.

Several of the audience members reached the exits just as the doors were flung open. The theater staff; ushers, manger, concession clerks, even the ticket taker were all standing there blocking the exits. There was something very, very, wrong with them.

Even from a distance I could see that they had gone a shade of greyish green and their eyes... their eyes were like empty sockets. Black shadows at the entrance to a cave. They reached out to the nearest audience members and began to claw at them.

The front of the crowed surged back against those behind them. The big man laughing, bent his head and gently kissed the actress then reached up, almost tenderly and ripped one of her ears off. He tossed the ear into the panicking crowed then twirled her around stage a few more times before ripping her other ear off. Her took her head in both hands, kissed her again then twisted her neck. He looked out into the audience and shouted "Everybody sing!" The dead eyed theater staff opened their mouths and began to emit a gurgling, moaning sound. The big man smiled broadly. "Everybody dance!" he said and tossed the lifeless woman into the audience.

The panicked crowed near the stage stampeded towards the exits. The staff, still moaning, began to move forward grabbing the audience members who were being shoved up against them and proceeded to claw, bite and rip open any person in their path. There was another brief pause in the music. In it I could hear a child screaming for his mother. He sounded just like my son.

I suddenly found myself able to breathe, to move. Terror crashing over me in waves, I dove into the crowed and fought my way towards the child. I am still not sure how I managed to reach the front of the theater. Most of the audience, those who were not already dead, seemed to be either cowering in their seats or stampeding back and forth between the vampire and his undead servants. (I of course, did not know at the time he was a vampire nor did I know that the theater staff ripping us apart were ghouls I was to gain this knowledge later. Not that it matters to those who did not survive, dead is dead...Well, not really). We were trapped, terrified. Anyone who tried to run on stage was bodily thrown back into the audience by the vampire. Anyone running for the exits was ripped apart by the "staff".

I found myself shoved up against the low wall surrounding the orchestra pit. I tried to step back but tripped over a small child who was huddled under a chair attempting to pull the folding seat down over him. He was struggling not to cry, his small body racked with silent sobs. He looked up at me with terrified eyes which begged me to remove him from this nightmare. I numbly realized that soon he would probably be dead. We all would be dead.

I was shoved once again against the orchestra pit wall. I looked down into the darkness. There was what appeared to be a body lying broken across some overturned chairs and music stands but other than that it seemed to be empty. Dully I thought, how lucky for the orchestra that this production used canned music. Then I remembered visiting my mother at the Kennedy Center. She had worked there as an usher and on occasion would get us "comp" tickets to various productions. Before the show, we would often go down to the staff cantina to eat and once or twice, when a few of the theaters were "black" we were given a behind the scenes tour from one of the senior staff members. My favorite part of the tour was under the theater. It was a whole other world down there. Corridors, storage nooks, dressing rooms, little secret doors and passageways wandering around under the stages and lobbies leading everywhere including ... the orchestra pit!

Heart pounding, barely daring to hope, I crouched down to look under the stage apron. There, in the gloom, a door. If I could get us down quietly we might just be able to get backstage unseen. In the back of the theater was a loading dock. The big roll door would be shut tight but the stage entrance should still be unlocked as the actors and crew liked to sneak out for smokes between scenes.

But how to get to that door? It was a long drop and vaulting over the wall with a child under my arm would attract unwanted attention not to mention most likely leave one or both of us lying injured on the floor. I frantically looked around for a solution and suddenly realized I was surrounded by children. Parents were shoving their children behind them in a desperate effort to shield them from the slow relentless killers advancing on the crowd, sacrificing their lives to buy their children a few moments more.

I had to try to save them. I could not just grab one and leave the rest to die. Dammit! I could not just leave them to be slaughtered but how was I going to get all of those kids down there? I ground my teeth in anger and pounded my fist against the wall in frustration.

"Click"

???

Cautiously, I pushed against the wall. There was some give, then a "click". Holding my breath, I looked closer and saw two small hinges set in the wall. A small swing door was installed near the center aisle. Trembling, I reached my arm over the wall and fumbled with the latch. It swung inward into the darkness. Above it was a detachable rail, below, black painted steps leading down into the pit. I exhaled and smiled, then stopped. "Not out of this yet" I cautioned myself. I searched around for assistance. My eyes fell on a youth, he could not have been more than 12 or 13, who was shielding a young girl from the crush of the panicked but dwindling crowd.

I grabbed his shoulder to get his attention. "I think I found a way out!" I shouted. "Grab as many kids as you can and start sending them this way!" He stared at the pit and shook his head, his eyes wide with fear.

"Were going to die" he said quietly.

I squeezed his shoulder hard and locked gazes with him. "I’m not ready to die yet and neither is she." I said pointing to the girl in his arms. He looked down at her then his head snapped back up to me. He immediately began grabbing children and shoving them towards me. I reached below the seat to the small boy I had first seen. He jerked away. "It’s OK" I said "It’s going to be OK." He reached out to me. He looked so much like my son that my heart skipped a beat this could so easily be my child. I, at least had the comfort of knowing my child was safe and alive. This boy's parents, if they were still alive, had no such luxury. I took him into my arms and made a silent promise to God and his parents. "I won’t let him die. No matter what I have to do I won’t this child die!" Then quickly and quietly began leading the children down into the darkness.