Chapter Four.
“Sul Sul! Hello!” Vincent cried out as the large doors heavily banged shut behind him, trapping him inside.
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His resounding voice shattered the building’s sombre calm and reverberated off the crumbling walls. For a moment he wasn’t alone any more and he was comforted by his echo as it filled the gloomy, cavernous hallway.
As he inspected the tattered furnishings he also listened hard for sounds of movement from within the mansion. It was silent apart from the unmistakable sound of a crackling fire. Vincent followed the noise until he reached a large, wooden archway where a vast parlour room stretched out before him.
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Curious and cold, Vincent sighed gratefully when he glimpsed the familiar, flickering orange glow and hurriedly strode towards it. He wasted no time in warming himself by the fireplace, its blazing flames drawing him dangerously close.
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Distracted by the fire’s satisfying warmth, Vincent was wholly unaware that he was being observed from behind. A mysterious figure lurked in the mansion’s murky shadows, scrutinising his every action. In a balcony, high above the parlour room, the figure sat in an opulent, cardinal red armchair patiently awaiting Vincent’s next move. A sneer crawled across its face as it slowly rose from its seat.
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Sufficiently thawed, Vincent gradually withdrew his body from the fireplace and slowly turned his body in the direction of a beautiful, old-fashioned organ. He took a single step towards it when it suddenly disappeared before his eyes.
A cloud of black mist engulfed him which darkened his vision and sent chills down his spine. Startled, he staggered backwards towards the fireplace.
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“Do you believe now, Detective?” Inquired an intimidating, disembodied voice.
***
Terrified, Vincent whipped his head around frantically and tried to establish where the voice came from. He squinted hard into the black mist, desperately trying to locate the Sim who spoke to him seconds ago.
The mist dissipated quickly and revealed a menacing creature sneering at Vincent, baring its fangs like a wild animal.
Fangs? A panicked Vincent thought, heart leaping out of his chest.
The creature inched closer and closer to Vincent, a hideous hissing noise emanating from its crooked mouth.
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“Do you believe in vampires now, Detective?” A sadistic grin creeped across the creature’s face.
“Wh-what?” Vincent stammered.
Broken memories and disjointed images once again flashed through Vincent’s mind as the creature’s hissing intensified.
The tome, shadowy figures, the statue... disappearing Sims... Officer Caliente...?
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His fearful, frantic thoughts trailed off and they abruptly turned to rage. A part of him still wanted to deny vampires were real but recent events were now beginning to make terrifying sense. Just like a jigsaw puzzle, everything was starting to slot together in Vincent’s mind, creating a macabre image that no Sim in SimNation would have ever thought possible.
Vampires did exist in SimNation.
Plasmathirsty vampires lurked in the shadows of SimNation and preyed upon innocent SimCitizens.
The disturbing reality caused anger to bubble inside Vincent’s chest as the vampire reached for his shoulder. He tried pulling away but its considerable strength outmatched his own, leaving him utterly immobilised.
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“Detective Valentine...” the vampire hissed, “I must confess that it was I who made all those poor, dear Sims disappear,” it pouted its plasmastained lips and shook its head in faux regret, mocking Vincent.
“Why?” Fury was making Vincent’s question terse and strained.
The vampire dropped its vivid electric blue gaze to the floor as it carefully thought about its answer.
“Power,” its voice dropped to a low hiss as it tightened its grip on Vincent’s shoulder, its face contorted with madness.
With all his might Vincent tore free from the vampire’s grasp and attempted to run for the exit. Enraged, the vampire launched itself at Vincent, spitting, hissing and clawing at Vincent’s face.
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Vincent wrestled fiercely with the vampire, its incredible strength and power almost completely overwhelmed him.
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Adopting a defensive stance, Vincent managed to prevent any serious damage caused by the vampire and eventually gained the upper-hand. He dodged the vampire’s fist by millimetres as he plummeted to the floor, roughly grabbed its ankles and launched it towards the ceiling.
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With the vampire distracted, Vincent was finally able to reach for his weapon: the garlic braid he’d constructed shortly before leaving San Myshuno. The vampire, in immense pain, hissed violently at the stench and quickly recoiled from Vincent, hissing and spitting as it did so.
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“Fine,” the vampire seethed through its monstrous fangs, “you win this time, Detective. I see you’ve been doing some research. Studied the Encyclopedia Vampirica, have we? That kind of initiative and resourcefulness is why I am so drawn to you, my dear.”
Exhausted but triumphant, Vincent wiped the sweat from his brow and interrogated the vampire once again.
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“How do you know my name? Why are all those Sims missing? What have you done to them? Where are they?” His shouting was deafening in the vast room.
“So many questions, my dear Detective!” Teased the vampire.
“Answer me! Now!” Screamed Vincent, his plasma pressure rising dangerously.
“I’ve been watching you for a considerable amount of time, my dear, sweet Valentine. Hoping and praying you’d notice me and bring me out of the shadowy depths once and for all! It looks like you just did!” The vampire pranced childishly as it mocked Vincent, a sickly grin twisting its cruel features, “I commend you on your bravery tonight, Detective. It must’ve taken a lot of courage to come alone to Straud Mansion in the dead of night.”
“Shut up, vampire!” Roared Vincent, his tone filled with loathing.
“Vladislaus, my dear,” the vampire corrected sternly, “Count Vladislaus Straud I,” the emphasis on the title caused his voice to hiss again, “although, some human Sims may refer to me as Count Vladislaus Straud IV...”
Vincent glared at Straud, waiting for him to explain his heinous actions. After a moment, Straud gave a dramatic sigh and cleared his throat.
“My reasoning is simple,” Straud began calmly, “I was told a long, long time ago...” he shook his head quickly at his inaccuracy, “no, warned a long, long time ago that...,” he paused briefly, seeking the correct words, “I am to defend myself against something that has the potential to destroy not only myself but the entirety of SimNation.”
A derisive snort escaped from Vincent’s mouth as he shook his head. He was starting to question the vampire’s sanity.
Straud’s grotesque features morphed into a gravely serious, pensive expression as memories from long ago resurfaced from the recesses of his mind.
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“It was the night the Saint Bernard sank. It was mere moments before the vessel was consumed by the tumultuous, ferocious waves that I, Count Vladislaus Straud, was approached by a haggard yet strangely beautiful female Sim. The merciless waves obliterated the saloon windows into a thousand tiny shards of glass causing torrents of water to cascade into the ship. The wind and the rain howled perilously outside, unconscious Sims littered the saloon’s floor and yet she still made sure to forewarn me of my impending fate,” he took a deep breath before he continued to speak again.
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“She firmly advised me to ‘prepare for evil’,” he gave another dramatic sigh, “alas, dear Valentine, the poor wretch never made it to the shoreline as with all the other passengers and crew but I carried her last words with me like a soul-crushing weight on my shoulders. Two hundred years later I can still hear her desperate, frantic pleading and feel her frail, delicate hands tugging at my coat lapels,” he paused momentarily as he collected his thoughts, “two hundred years later and I am still waiting for that evil to arrive.”
Dumbfounded by his account, Vincent stared blankly at Straud.
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“You - you were a... a passenger on the Saint Bernard?” An awestruck Vincent eventually managed, Straud’s story still swirling in his mind, “the ship that sank off the coast of Brindleton Bay two hundred years ago?”
“Yes, I was,” he admitted proudly, “but is that the only thing you take away from my dire recollection?” Straud’s tone exuded annoyance and offence at Vincent’s inability to grasp crucial information quickly, “come on, Detective! I thought you could keep up quicker than that! Surely they trained you properly at the police academy, no?”
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“You were there that night? You witnessed everything?” Vincent pressed on, ignoring Straud’s boorish flippancy.
“Yes, I was there. I saw everything that happened to that exquisite galleon and those pitiful, abandoned animals,” Straud answered him, his clipped tone indicated his exasperation at the detective, “also, may I inform you, that the ship met its cruel fate on what is now know as Deadgrass Isle. Nowhere near the Brindleton Bay coastline,” he pedantically corrected Vincent.
His awe and amazement with the vampire rendered Vincent temporarily unable to interrogate correctly and he blushed with embarrassment at his sudden ineptitude. He managed to block out his fascination with Straud’s history and regained his composure.
“You’re creating an army of vampires? You’re under threat? By whom? By what? What is this nonsense about it destroying SimNation? What is evil enough to wipe out the entire planet?”
“Aha! Finally, Detective Valentine has started to grasp how to ask pertinent questions now!” Straud clapped his hands together and cackled with glee. Vincent clenched his jaw in indignation.
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“Answer me, Straud!” He demanded, his voice gruff with shouting, “what in SimNation are you talking about?”
Straud’s menacing electric blue eyes bore steadily into Vincent’s as he took a deep breath in.
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