Nine.doc“There was a wealthy merchant, called Horatius. He had a wife, two sons and one daughter. [s]He and his wife were happy.[/s] They were in the highest circles of society, and their daughter, Livia was her name, was engaged to a wealthy aristocrat. All was well. But their lives changed when one of Horatius’s shipments of grain came in. There was a sick young man on board, whom the crew had picked up on the way home. [s]He’d been stranded on an island.[/s]
“Horatius was a kind man, known for his integrity and mercy. He took the young man into his home, clothed and fed him. [s]The young man had a nurse take care of him until he was well.[/s] When he regained his strength, the young man didn’t remember anything. He couldn’t even remember his own name. So they called him Faustus. It means ‘lucky’ in Latin. Faustus [s]became completely well and[/s] helped Horatius with his business.
“No one knew that Faustus and Livia had fallen in love. [s]They couldn’t tell anyone, because Livia was still engaged. The man to whom she’d pledged her life was rich, and was known for having a cruel reputation. He beat his slaves, and used women roughly. Livia was frightened of him.”[/s]
“She and Faustus had already run. They’d secured a passage on a ship bound for a far away country. Livia and her younger brother were close. [s]He was crippled, and had a gentle nature.[/s] He’d told her of Quintus’s betrayal.
“[s]Horatius was stunned when a slave told him that his daughter was gone. She wasn’t anywhere to be found in the villa.[/s] Lionius told the old man that Faustus had kidnapped her. Enraged, Horatius went with Lionius to search the ships for Livia and Faustus.
“As Faustus got closer to her[s], arms outstretched,[/s] Lionius dived at him and stabbed him through the chest with his sword yet again. Faustus dropped to the deck… and so did Livia.
“Faustus recovered almost instantly and cut his hand with the tip of his sword. In front of everyone, he took Livia’ small white hand and sliced it also. Horatius didn’t try to stop him. [s]He now trusted Faustus entirely.[/s] Lionius was so dazed at what he had done he didn’t move. Faustus put their hands together, and their blood mixed.
“But it was too late. Livia was dead, and the new blood didn’t revive her. Faustus cried, clasping her limp body to him. No one said anything. Faustus looked up at Lionius, and hate surged through him. He jumped up, picking up his sword. ‘You!’ he cried. ‘You did this! You will pay!’ [s]And the two men again fought.[/s] Lionius was slow and fumbled against the younger man’s blind rage. [s]Faustus moved the sword so quickly it was a blur.[/s] Lionius never stood a chance. Faustus killed him, and spit on Lionius’s body [s]when it lay in a pool of blood on the deck[/s].
“He went to Livia’s body again, and hugged it to him. As he wept, an idea came to him. [s]He put Livia down, and bent over her.[/s] He’d thought of a way he could keep her with him forever. He put his mouth to hers and began to suck her soul out.
“Horatius realized what he was doing when he saw the white cloud seeping into Faustus, and he tried to stop him. Faustus knocked him aside and continued his task. When he was finished he felt her inside him, and he was filled with joy.
Horatius stood in shocked horror as he watched the white cloud seep into Faustus. He tried to stop him.
“His joy was short-lived. [s]She was sobbing. She was trapped.[/s] She wasn’t happy to be with him. She’d seen the gates of Heaven, and he’d snatched her away from them. [s]There would be consequences, since Faustus had taken her soul with his own spirit full of hate for Lionius. [/s]Faustus screamed in agony and hurt at her denial[s], and he became a shadow. [/s]Before the people’s eyes, Faustus’s face melted away and became a black hole. He left them all there with their mouths hanging open[s], and fled from all living souls[/s]. It was a ghastly sight; a handsome aristocrat and a beautiful young girl, both dead on the deck.
“The years went by. Everything returned to what it once was. Eventually Rome forgot about the strange story of the man who’d [s]been stabbed and then jumped up without a scratch, and how he’d [/s]sucked a girl’s soul out of her body. They shouldn’t have. Ten years [s]to the day [/s] after Horatius’s daughter was killed [s]and deprived of her soul[/s], (semi-colon here) deaths began [s]to make themselves known[/s] to occur in the night. The Romans didn’t know what to think. There was no evidence of murder or how the death had even occurred. The bodies were untouched. [s]There were no wounds. No poison in the blood. Nothing[/s]. The only thing the investigators had to go off of was one strange fact: the bodies were still slightly warm [s]after hours of death.[/s] hours after death.
“Horatius knew in his gut that it was Faustus. He’d come back, to take his revenge on Rome for a crime that only he had committed. [s]Horatius didn’t know what he could do, so he prayed to the gods that Faustus would tire of Rome and leave. [/s]But Faustus didn’t stop his frenzied feeding. He’d learned that after having one soul it wasn’t enough. While before he’d feasted on chickens and mere trifles, consuming a soul was a banquet that made him strong. Every night he would descend on a helpless being and collect their soul to keep company with the others. His strength continued to grow.
“Horatius went to confront him. Faustus wasn’t hard to find. [s]Horatius had been keeping track of him, and he noticed a pattern in Faustus’s feedings.[/s] Every night Faustus moved further west. Horatius simply waited in the street of what was his next guess for Faustus’s attack. One night he finally saw him.
“Horatius was greatly surprised at the sight of his old friend. Faustus was no longer a shadow. He looked just as he used to; youthful and handsome. [s]He called out to get the younger man’s attention. Faustus greeted him in a friendly manner, as if nothing was amiss. [/s]Horatius pleaded with him to stop murdering the people of Rome. Faustus only laughed. ‘You all deserve to die,’ he said. ‘Especially the women, who know nothing of true love and string along men like toys.’
“Horatius asked him what he meant. Faustus told the old man what had become of his daughter, and his own lover,[/s] Livia. Faustus had released her soul soon after the fateful day on the ship[s], but she couldn’t find her way to Heaven[/s]. ‘She’s become a dark creature,’ Faustus said. ‘She mocks me and calls me ‘the Father of Necaz,’ his face curled with bitterness as he said it. ‘She has made more of us, did you know that? [s]You should thank me. [/s]While I only consume the souls, she sets them free to be shadows like us.’ Horatius asked him how he was a shadow but appeared to be a human.
“‘The more souls I devour,’ the creature answered, ‘the more able I am to keep a hold on my soul. To your poor eyesight, I do appear as a human. To one of us, it is obvious what I am.’
“Horatius tried again to ask the thing to leave Rome. [s]Faustus again refused. Horatius wept. He wept for his daughter, he wept for Faustus, and he wept for all of Rome. ‘Why?’ he cried to the gods. ‘Why would you do this to me, to my family, after my faithful servitude towards you?’ He begged the gods to strike him dead. He didn’t want to see Rome fall and perish. He begged Faustus one last time to take the first ship out and leave Rome, for the sake of what they had once been.[/s] Faustus had no more good in him, however, and he couldn’t concede to the old man’s appeal.
“In one act of mercy, the only one Faustus could manage from the remains of his old self, he killed Horatius. ‘I’ve put you out of your misery,’ he said. ‘Go now, and live in a peace I will never find [s]until the end of time, if even then[/s].’
It was a young vampire. His name was Tacitus—”
“How do you know that this new vampire was Roman? Perhaps your people descend from Italy.” I interrupt. Sudeep shakes his head, irritated at my disruption.
Even as I yearned for Mr. Garret’s blood, then Wendy’s, I was repulsed at myself. [s]If I know nothing else, this is what I do know.[/s]
I purse my lips. “Fine. Ugh, this is so excruciating.”
I realize with relief that he is not mad at me; he’s angry at himself for slipping the name. He doesn’t want me to know about Decimus, whoever he is. [s]If it is a he. It sounds like a he. For once I am smart enough not to ask.[/s]
They are all perched on laundry lines or jutting parts of the buildings above us.
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