1 Prologue

She had heard the voice when she first entered the house. A soft whisper that she passed off as the wind. As the days went by the voice continued its call to her. No one else could heard its silent murmuring. It would whisper from behind the wallpaper or through the crevices of the ceiling even from under her bed as she tried to sleep.

During the day she was able to ignore it. It seemed quieter during the morning when the sun was high in the sky and everything was warm and safe. But the voice would always return the moment the sun set. She would desperately search the house trying to find the source of the whispering call. She spent many restless nights just roaming the halls and going from one empty room to another.

It sounded neither male nor female, more like a breath of air. Whispering softly, too low for her to hear what it was trying to tell her. When she had exhausted herself from searching the house, she would lie awake in her bed striving to hear its words.

She felt herself being drawn to its call. Compelled to do whatever it was asking her to do, if only she knew what that was!

Then the day came when she could not take it anymore. She broke down in front of her brother and through her tears she told him she could not stay another day in this house. He had been concerned for her. It was not the first or even second time she had a mental break down. He tried to reassure her that it was simply the wind or creaks of an old house. They talk for a long time but in the end, she was able to convince her brother to help send her back home. She packed before nightfall and for the first time since she came to the house, she was able to relax. When she went to bed, she went with a smile, knowing that soon she would be free from the tormenting voice. The smile quickly faded as the voice return and haunted her through the long hours of the night. It was not until sunrise was a hour away that for the first time, the words became clear.

She sat up.

The bed covers falling off her and onto the floor.

She got out of bed.

The cold floor chilled her bare feet.

The voice whispered and she followed it.

She left her room and walked down the stairs that led to the main hallway. She could hear the murmuring voices of her brother talking to one of the workers in the other room, but she went in the opposite direction to the kitchen.

The dinner dishes were still in the sink and protruding from the bowls, plates, and cups was a cutting knife.

She went over to the sink and pulled it out. It was three inches long with a black handle. She left the kitchen and entered the laundry room. A laundry basket sat on top of the washer, over filled with dirty clothes. A thought of scolding the maid for not doing the laundry made her pause.

She looked around the room, at the washer and the shelves full of cleaning supplies.

"How did I get down here?" she asked out loud and confused.

She looked down at the knife in her hand but before she could be alarmed the voice once again spoke in her ear, compelling her to continue.

She felt her will slip away and once again she followed its call.

She went to the trap door in the corner. Grasping the iron ring, she pulled it open.

A ladder led the way down to the basement, the third rung had rotten away and the second was just moments away from snapping in two.

Shelves were filled with boxes of forgotten junk and trunks were crammed against the walls.

She went to the furthest wall, the one that looked like cement had been thrown at it. Red bricks could be seen in the cracks of cement.

She went through the door to the left of the wall and enter completely darkness. The soft carpet floor was replaced with dirt and small rocks.

The voice called, echoing from the depths of the black tunnel and she continued to follow it, still clutching the knife in her hand.

Twisted and turning, she soon lost all sense of direction as she preceded deeper into the maze of tunnels dug centuries ago.

There was a strong musty smell of wet dirt and she could hear water dripping off the ceiling. A wall loomed up in front of her, stopping her from continuing.

She paused and ran a hand across the rock listening to the voice behind it.

Then she stepped through the wall as though it was simple a curtain, but it became solid the moment she went through it. She had entered a cavern that was lighten up with neon blue light emitting from the strange symbols that were chiseled into the floor and walls. Bats hung upside down from the ceiling, watching her with their beady eyes.

In the center of the cavern, lifted by a platform made of a three stone steps, was a coffin. The coffin had been made from oak that had started to rot from the years exposed to the damp atmosphere.

Engraved into the wood of the coffin's lid were more strange runes that hummed softly. The runes were a spell a witch had cast long ago on the coffin to make sure the creature within could never escape.

She climbed the three steps and gazed down at the runes. The humming grew louder as the blue light tinted red. She could sense a presence within the coffin. Something foul and dark. Waiting to be freed.

Twisting the knife around so the blade pointed down, she drove it into the carvings.

The runes darken into embers of fire. The knife's handle began to heat up in her hands, burning its imprint into her palm.

She retched the knife through the symbols, destroying them one by one.

The lid flew off, going high into the air, nearly hitting the bats before falling back down to the ground several feet away from her and the coffin.

Inside the coffin, laying on a cushion of velvet was a skeleton, grinning up at her.

The expensive suit that it had once wore was now nothing more than rags wrapped around its bones.

A sword, like the ones a knight would have wield, was protruding out of its chest.

Whoever had plunged their sword into the skeleton had brought it down with such force that the blade went through the skeleton and pierced deep into the wood of the bottom of the coffin. The skeleton's hands grasped the hilt as though it had spent its final moments trying to pull it out.

She pulled the sword out for it.

The bony hands slid off the silver blade and fell to its side as the blade emerge from its chest.

She placed the sword carefully on the ground then looked back at the grinning skeleton, waiting for her next instruction.

The voice whispered in her ear, eager to give those instructions.

She held her left hand a few inches above the skeleton's mouth. Her right hand touching the skin of her wrist with the knife.

She hesitated; her hand began to tremble.

The voice grew louder with its commands. A strange red light flickered in the skeleton's left eye.

The cavern grew cold and she could see her breath when she exhaled.

She sensed someone standing behind her, compelling her to continue.

Her hand grew still, and she calmly cut her wrist with the knife.

Blood ran down her skin and fell into the skeleton's open mouth.

At first nothing happened as her blood ran down its spine. Then something reddish pink began to appear, and she realized it was muscle regrowing over the white bone.

As more of her blood fell on the skeleton more muscle regrew.

She felt weaker and weaker as her life slipped away and the skeleton regained its.

Its hand twitched and then reached up and grasped her arm. It drew her arm down to its mouth and bit into her blood covered wrist with its two sharp carnivorous fangs.

Her knees buckled under her and she fell to the ground. Her breathing was heavy, and her eyesight was blurry.

She grabbed the coffin's side with her other hand and rested her head on it. The voice had released her from its control now that she was dying.

She could see her blood trickling down the skeleton's rib cage. Watch as its heart regrew which would never beat before it was covered over with muscle.

She looked back at the skeleton's face and it stared back with a single red eye. She saw hell in it.

Evil and corruption, wanting only one thing.

"No," she moaned trying to pull away.

It removed her wrist from its mouth.

"No, you can't," she gasped.

It was so hard to breath.

The skeleton reached over with its other hand, grasping her hair, pulling her closer.

It lifted its head and bit into her neck.

"No! Please don't!"

The bats squealed in fright and took flight. Dozens of bats flew in a wild circle around them.

"Please!" she cried trying to push the skeleton away, but it was too late.

The vampire released her, and she fell to the stone floor, dead.