tracks. He stood there, his back to them, as if afraid to turn around.
Scarlet stared at the candles, not understanding what was happening. Had it been a draft? She hadn’t felt one.
The Father slowly turned and looked at her. From his fearful expression, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she were to blame.
She saw small beads of sweat form on his forehead, as his eyes travel down to her throat.
“That’s a beautiful necklace,” he said.
Scarlet detected a shakiness in his voice that wasn’t there a moment before. Clearly, he was freaked out. He was freaked out by her , she realized. That scared her, and she started to tremble.
“May I ask where you got it?” he asked.
“I gave it to her,” her mom chimed in. “For her sixteenth birthday. Just a few days ago.”
He turned and looked at her.
“Where did you get it?” he asked, with intensity.
“It’s been in my family for generations,” she responded. “My grandmother gave it to me. And her grandmother gave it to her.”
“May I look at it?” he asked, turning to Scarlet.
Scarlet nodded, not knowing what to say.
He reached out and gently lifted the cross with two fingers, staring at it in the light. As he did, his eyes widened in fear.
“The cross of the Resurrection,” he whispered to himself, in terror.
“You know it?” her mom asked.
He let it go, pulling back his hand as if he’d touched a snake.
“Of course,” he said. “It is said to trace back all the way to the times of Christ. It is one of the most famous crosses of Christianity. It was rumored to have been lost centuries ago. It is a holy relic. I can’t understand how you have it. Something like this, it belongs in the Vatican. In a museum. On display.”
Scarlet reached up and fingered the necklace, feeling a whole new appreciation for it. And a fear of it. Why was he so scared by it?
“That cross,” he continued, “is rumored to have been used to protect the first vampires.”
“Vampires?” Scarlet asked, heart pounding.
“What do you mean protect them?” her mom asked.
“In the early days of Christianity, the vampires were rumored to be the chosen ones. The good ones. When barbarians waged war against the holy people, it was the vampires, the super race, that was called to protect mankind. Back then, you see, it was a great blessing to be a vampire. It was somewhat like being a priest today. They were the chosen kind, and blessed with immortality.
“But somewhere along the way, it changed. One too many vampires were turned. An evil strain occurred among them. Over time, the evil strain became dominant, and wiped out the good ones. Only a handful of good ones remained throughout the centuries. And this cross was there symbol. They were the Knights Templar of vampires, their most elite sect.”
He suddenly turned to Caitlin.
“Your grandmother…who was she exactly?” he asked.
“Um…well…” she began, flustered.
Suddenly the sun shifted, its huge red ball aligning directly in the path of the stained-glass window, in the center of the far wall. It lit her up, sending a single beam of sunlight right to Scarlet. Light flooded her.
Scarlet suddenly felt a horrific pain, right in her forehead. It was so bad, she had to clutch her head. Her eyes burned, too, as if they were on fire. She keeled over. It felt like it was tearing her up inside, and she couldn’t stand it for another second.
She shrieked as she dropped to her knees, clutching her head.
“Make it stop! Make it stop!” she screamed.
“Scarlet what’s wrong?” her mom cried out, dropping to her side, putting an arm around her.
The priest took a step back, eyes widening in fear.
“ Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio, contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium, ” he began to chant, raising a hand in the sign of the cross. He reached into his cloak, grabbed a small decanter of holy water, and sprinkled it on Scarlet.
As the water hit her skin, in
Scarlet stared at the candles, not understanding what was happening. Had it been a draft? She hadn’t felt one.
The Father slowly turned and looked at her. From his fearful expression, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she were to blame.
She saw small beads of sweat form on his forehead, as his eyes travel down to her throat.
“That’s a beautiful necklace,” he said.
Scarlet detected a shakiness in his voice that wasn’t there a moment before. Clearly, he was freaked out. He was freaked out by her , she realized. That scared her, and she started to tremble.
“May I ask where you got it?” he asked.
“I gave it to her,” her mom chimed in. “For her sixteenth birthday. Just a few days ago.”
He turned and looked at her.
“Where did you get it?” he asked, with intensity.
“It’s been in my family for generations,” she responded. “My grandmother gave it to me. And her grandmother gave it to her.”
“May I look at it?” he asked, turning to Scarlet.
Scarlet nodded, not knowing what to say.
He reached out and gently lifted the cross with two fingers, staring at it in the light. As he did, his eyes widened in fear.
“The cross of the Resurrection,” he whispered to himself, in terror.
“You know it?” her mom asked.
He let it go, pulling back his hand as if he’d touched a snake.
“Of course,” he said. “It is said to trace back all the way to the times of Christ. It is one of the most famous crosses of Christianity. It was rumored to have been lost centuries ago. It is a holy relic. I can’t understand how you have it. Something like this, it belongs in the Vatican. In a museum. On display.”
Scarlet reached up and fingered the necklace, feeling a whole new appreciation for it. And a fear of it. Why was he so scared by it?
“That cross,” he continued, “is rumored to have been used to protect the first vampires.”
“Vampires?” Scarlet asked, heart pounding.
“What do you mean protect them?” her mom asked.
“In the early days of Christianity, the vampires were rumored to be the chosen ones. The good ones. When barbarians waged war against the holy people, it was the vampires, the super race, that was called to protect mankind. Back then, you see, it was a great blessing to be a vampire. It was somewhat like being a priest today. They were the chosen kind, and blessed with immortality.
“But somewhere along the way, it changed. One too many vampires were turned. An evil strain occurred among them. Over time, the evil strain became dominant, and wiped out the good ones. Only a handful of good ones remained throughout the centuries. And this cross was there symbol. They were the Knights Templar of vampires, their most elite sect.”
He suddenly turned to Caitlin.
“Your grandmother…who was she exactly?” he asked.
“Um…well…” she began, flustered.
Suddenly the sun shifted, its huge red ball aligning directly in the path of the stained-glass window, in the center of the far wall. It lit her up, sending a single beam of sunlight right to Scarlet. Light flooded her.
Scarlet suddenly felt a horrific pain, right in her forehead. It was so bad, she had to clutch her head. Her eyes burned, too, as if they were on fire. She keeled over. It felt like it was tearing her up inside, and she couldn’t stand it for another second.
She shrieked as she dropped to her knees, clutching her head.
“Make it stop! Make it stop!” she screamed.
“Scarlet what’s wrong?” her mom cried out, dropping to her side, putting an arm around her.
The priest took a step back, eyes widening in fear.
“ Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio, contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium, ” he began to chant, raising a hand in the sign of the cross. He reached into his cloak, grabbed a small decanter of holy water, and sprinkled it on Scarlet.
As the water hit her skin, in
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