1982: Small Town Bloodline Records

Go to the magic kingdom and get the magic walnut.

"Morrison, you'd better do as I tell you, or..."

With his back against the cold concrete wall, Carl Morrison had no way out.

Ronald Ogarcia slapped him maliciously on the cheek.His fingers were wet and cold, as if snakes had crawled over them, and it was very uncomfortable.

"Otherwise I'm not sure what Rooney will do with your beloved cello."

Passing Ronald, Carl saw Rooney holding the piano case high, and closed his eyes in pain.

He couldn't breathe just thinking about that scene, let alone actually happening.

"Tell me, what exactly do you want me to do?"

Three ten minutes ago, when he came out of the house of Mr. Ralph, a retired cellist in the town, he met Rooney, Ronald and Fern wandering on the street.Alarm bells were ringing in his heart, he turned and ran, but Rooney was taller and stronger than him, like a well-trained police dog, he caught up with him in two or three steps.

These three bastards who used to trouble everyone else at school took him to this back alley, took his cello, and threatened him to do what they said or Rooney would smash it to pieces on the spot.

"Go to the manor on the outskirts of the city to spend the night," Ronald leaned so close that Carl could see the greed flickering in his eyes, "bring us something valuable."

Carl raised his head abruptly, disbelief written all over his face.

No wonder he was overreacting, anyone who lived in Brodica knew that there were certain places not to be approached, especially when night fell.

"I..." It took him a lot of effort to swallow the sentence "I won't do it".

"You what?" Ronald gestured, and Rooney immediately made a throwing motion, and Carl's blood froze.

"Morrison, tell me what you just wanted to say." Ronald saw Carl flinch with satisfaction.

His cello was still in their hands, and he couldn't afford to provoke them.Carl hesitated for a moment, "I see."

"Don't play tricks, we only wait until twelve o'clock tomorrow," Ronald patted him on the shoulder pretendingly, "Remember it's worth the money, don't prevaricate us with rubbish."

"Don't play tricks, or I'll beat you to death." Fern clacked his knuckles and repeated vaguely.

Brodica was not a naturally formed suburb.It has a total history of less than 50 years. It used to be several neighboring villages, which were forcibly merged under government intervention to form a new town.

Compared with other old forgotten suburbs, the town of Brodika is undoubtedly lucky.Because of government policies, the town is equipped with new and advanced public facilities, such as hospitals and public transportation, making people's life here comfortable and convenient.

Carl left and took public transportation to the edge of town.

On the outskirts of the city are the old village sites and cemeteries: those strange old buildings have long been uninhabited, and the waterwheel and mill have long been dilapidated. It is hard to imagine that people in the past lived in this place.The black crow sat on the tombstone and croaked hoarsely, like an ominous black cloud.Their feces are highly corrosive, and the government spends a lot of money every year just to expel these uninvited guests.

The red clouds in the sky were mixed with bloodshot eyes, turning a strange red color, and under the afterglow of the setting sun, the huge silhouette of the manor was not far in front, like a dormant beast.

This is a three-story pointed building, which looks a bit like a shrunken Elenas Castle. Even though it is surrounded by dead vines, it can be seen that it was once magnificent.Carl stepped across the dead lawn, leaving the dry brass peacock fountain behind him, and stopped in front of the heavy carved gate.

The door was unlocked, and it took a little effort for him to push open a gap that would allow one person to pass through.

There was no choking dust as expected, but facing the unknown darkness lurking, he hesitated.

It has nothing to do with any ghost legends, just because he has seen inhuman creatures lurking in the dark places of the town.

That was half a year ago. After school, he wasted some time in the department store, and took a shortcut home in order to catch dinner.

The so-called shortcuts are just a few dark alleys: this is a popular place for robbers and drug addicts, and more than once he has seen drug overdose guys wandering in the shadows, like stinking zombies in movies.

The sun had not completely set yet, and with the dim light of the sky, he found that there were people in front of him, a man and a woman. The man pressed the woman firmly against the wall, and buried her head between her necks.

They were making love, or so he thought.

There is a faint rotten smell in the surroundings, exactly the same as rotten meat that has been exposed to the sun and is full of maggots.

He swore that he didn't have the slightest intention of spying on him, and immediately decided to return the same way, but as if he had a heart, the man turned his head and looked at him.Even at such a long distance, Karl could clearly see the man's eyes as red as blood and his fangs dripping with blood.

He had never run so fast in his life, the wind stung his cheeks, and his throat was filled with the smell of blood, but he didn't dare to stop, let alone look back to see if the vampire was chasing him.

On the night he got home, he developed a high fever, fell into a coma, vomited, had nightmares, and didn't go to school for a whole week.He tried to talk to his mother about what he had seen that day: vampires were with us, I saw a woman murdered, he found me, I didn't know what to do.But Mom just folded her hands in worry, hoping that Nightmare would let the poor boy go.

Every remote town has its own unique ghost legend, but no one will believe that it is real.

Carl came back to his senses, and before the last twilight of the setting sun dissipated, he entered the interior of this legendary haunted house.

The blood-colored sunset sank to the bottom of the horizon, and the black and red stripes danced, like dying flames, more like blood that refused to dry up, and then the heavy door closed behind him, cutting off the outside world.

Before coming here, Carl made a special trip to the hardware store, but considering the limited battery power, he didn't turn on the flashlight immediately.

This is a building dating from the second half of the eighteenth century. More than half a century ago, the last occupants—a wealthy merchant and his wife and daughter—moved here, and their luggage was as large as ten carriages. Many, it can be regarded as a sensational event.

Through the exquisite reliefs, crystal chandeliers, and gold-encrusted candlesticks, Karl could imagine the luxurious and luxurious scenes here, but soon, the black and brown stains everywhere attracted his attention.He thought he knew what it was.

The expected happy life did not come, and the wealthy businessman and his wife met a terrible misfortune.They were torn to shreds, in the physical sense: there was meat and blood attached to the bones everywhere, and even on the day of the burial, people could not separate the poor couple and could only put them in a big mouthful. Buried in a coffin.

Carl had read related reports in the old magazines of the town library: some speculated that the cultists held the black mass here, and others speculated that it was the work of a serial killer who was obsessed with Jack the Ripper, but more than half a century later, it really The murderer has always been at large, and people who have witnessed all this have entered the coffin one after another. The truth of this unsolved case will never be revealed.

In the second year after the murder, the government decided to build a new town, which later became Brodica.It's not that no developers have set their sights on this fast land, but the construction teams they send always encounter various problems, such as disappearances and accidental deaths.

This place has been put on hold intentionally or unintentionally. To this day, this manor is the most crucial link in the legend of the town's ghosts.

Carl noticed that there was dust everywhere on the floor, but it was too thick to call it a natural accumulation.Suddenly, he squatted down and grabbed a handful in the palm of his hand to observe carefully.The dust felt cold and smooth to the touch, with an indescribably decayed atmosphere, slowly slipping from between his fingers.He clapped his palms in doubt and stood up, continuing to walk deep into the manor.

The sun had completely set, and the dim light of the flashlight was his only talisman.

This place is so big and so empty that he can hear the echo of his own footsteps.

I don't know when, a storm of rumors blew up in the town.They all said that there were jewels buried in the manor that the last owner had no time to take away. They were priceless enough to make the poor live a life of extravagance.Ronald and the others must have taken the rumors as truth, but they didn't dare to come to this haunted house to find them in person.Carl curled his lips mockingly, why don't these cowards think about what is left after half a century of looting by countless people?

He walked through the empty and deserted halls and corridors, and stood in front of the stairs but did not go up: most of these large houses have basements, and the entrance to the basement is usually behind the stairs.He planned to go to the basement to have a look - if there was anything of value, it must be hidden in a hidden corner of the basement.

However, he didn't need to bother to look for it at all, he knew the specific entrance to the basement: it was a stone slab connected to the pull ring, and something was locked underneath, and he was hitting the stone slab above his head vigorously, trying to get out.

Carl stared at the thumping slab, unable to decide whether to find something to hold it down or turn and run.

The next second, the stone slab was pushed away, and the black shadow rushed towards him with a strong stench, and he took a step back subconsciously.

At the moment when he closed his eyes and waited for death, a cold hand passed over his shoulder and was firmly stuck between him and the monster—more precisely, the hand pinched the monster's head, It is not allowed to go one step further.

He took a quick breath, not sure whether he should look back: in front of him was the hideous and distorted face of the monster, behind him was the guy who had followed him since he didn't know when, and he was caught in the middle, with nowhere to go escape.

Most of the monster's face was rotten, and the facial features of humans could be vaguely seen.Karl stared at its scarlet eyes and long sharp fangs, but the next second, another cold hand covered his eyes, preventing him from seeing what happened next.

Carl heard the crisp sound of the skull being crushed, and a little liquid splashed on his chin.His whole body was stiff, and he didn't dare to open his eyes for a long time to look at the corpse that was thrown aside like a rag sack—if he had looked, he would have noticed that the monster was still wriggling slightly, obviously not completely dead.

"Go to the basement, we're together."

The man's voice was deep and smooth, and it might be called beautiful in another occasion, but at this moment Karl only felt the creeps.

When did he appear in this place?How long has he been following?If it wasn't for this accident, how long would it have taken him to realize that he was being followed?

Carl went down the stairs stiffly, taking every step carefully, for fear that another monster like that would jump out of the shadows that the flashlight could not reach.

He couldn't hear footsteps, but he knew that that person was always there, maybe only one step away from him.

At least at this moment he was protected, and this weird thought made him temporarily relieved.

Unlike the upper floor where the air circulates, the underground air is stale and rotten, as if something is rotten and maggots.

Thinking of the monster's rotting body, Carl had to cover his mouth and nose all the way, for fear of vomiting it out.

The basement is bigger than Carl expected. Except for the storage room and the wine cellar, the innermost room is arranged like a living room, with a bed, chairs, and even a spacious desk with drawers. It is probably the owner's house. ready to take refuge.

Carl noticed the secondary photo frame on the table, picked it up faster than his brain, and studied it carefully in the faint light of the flashlight.

Limited by the technology of that era, the black and white photos are somewhat distorted, but it can still be seen that they are a very happy family: the well-dressed Websters are holding hands and looking straight ahead with smiles on their faces, and standing between them is a ten-year-old A girl of two or three years old.

Carl stared at the girl for a long time, and the sentence he had read in old magazines emerged from the depths of his memory: After careful and rigorous investigation, the police finally confirmed that there were only two dead bodies at the scene, and that was the Websters.The whereabouts of their only daughter Sheila Webster became the biggest mystery of the case.If the police can find Sheila, maybe there is still a little possibility of solving this unsolved case.

For half a century, neither the Websters' friends nor the nearby villagers saw the girl again.

She disappeared into this world forever and forever with the truth of why her parents died tragically, like a drop of water flowing into the sea, no one will know about it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the corner of the desk, where there was a letter and a stack of manuscripts.

The envelope was sealed with wax, and the manuscript was covered with symbols that Carl could not understand. Judging from the color of the ink, it should have been left a few days ago.

"Give it to me." The guy who followed him like a shadow spoke.

He asked for these things when he opened his mouth. Carl remembered the picture of him crushing the monster's head with his bare hands, and obediently stepped aside, facing the wall, deliberately not looking at him.

Karl still didn't know what this guy looked like—he could see his true face just by holding up the flashlight, but he resisted the urge to do so throughout.

He heard the sound of the envelope being opened, "Can you see the words on it?"

After asking, he regretted it: when he checked the storage room earlier, this guy only took a glance from a distance and concluded that there was no threat. He obviously had excellent night vision ability.

While the other party was reading the letter, Karl continued to search.

On the top shelf of the left drawer is a letter opener with a carved handle. Carl picked it up and gestured it a few times. Decades of years have left no marks on it. It is so sharp that you can scratch it lightly. could cut the paper in two, so he stuffed it in his pocket as a makeshift self-defense weapon.

"What are you looking for?"

Carl was silent for more than ten seconds before he was sure that the guy was talking to him.

"Valuable things, jewelry, gold, anything is fine, as long as it is valuable." He didn't know whether to say it, but as a boy who was only 16 years old, he had endured too much external pressure and threats this day. , Intimidation, violence, and the experience of just brushing shoulders with death, already on the verge of collapse, "I was forced, I don't want to come to this ghost place at all, but I have to bring something valuable back from here, otherwise ...Otherwise..." The last bit of reason made him shut up.

The scene that had been deliberately forgotten reappeared in front of my eyes.

What would Rooney do with his cello if he didn't bring them what they wanted?He would rather be bruised and swollen by them than have this happen.

Carl was bitter. He really shouldn't have turned down Todd's invitation yesterday afternoon—if he had visited Todd's house, he would never have met those three bastards.

"How did you know there were jewels here?"

"Don't you know? It's rumored that there are treasures buried here that the Websters didn't have time to take away." Carl pinched his thigh and forced himself to calm down. "It's probably only a few months. Is there any problem?"

The guy stopped talking because there was an ominous rustling in the passage outside.

Along with the beast-like roar, the stagnant air began to flow, and the rancid stench suddenly became stronger.

Carl covered his mouth hard, and subconsciously took a few steps towards the other side.He was suddenly very thankful that he didn't have time to eat anything at night, otherwise it wouldn't be as simple as vomiting it out.

"Those things followed."

"What the hell is that?!"

Unexpectedly, he saw the silhouette with a hunched back and long fingertips on the wall, and Karl turned off the flashlight in shock, letting the darkness fall, "Is it... a vampire?" He asked in a low voice.

The rotten face gradually overlapped with Count Nosferatu, making Karl more convinced of his guess.

"Yes. Vampires, or something between humans and vampires." He didn't elaborate.Whether Karl can figure out the difference between the two is on the one hand, and on the other hand, those flesh-hungry monsters have already targeted them, or the only human here, Karl.

There was a ping-pong sound outside for a while, there were piercing screams and the dull sound of objects hitting the wall, but eventually it gradually fell silent.

Carl was leaning against the wall, clutching the letter opener tightly in his hand—of course he didn't expect this small knife that was no more than the length of his palm to be able to defeat the blood-sucking monster, but it was better than nothing—he was so nervous that he might spit it out at any time.The long-term high concentration made him a little dizzy, but the instinct to survive allowed him to cheer up and pay attention to any changes outside.

There are more than one monsters chasing, if that guy didn't stop them... While thinking wildly, Karl heard the guy's voice.

"Go back to the ground."

He had to admit that when he heard that guy's voice, he was really relieved.

He raised his head and met a pair of cold red eyes—the same red eyes as those monsters, shining with a beast-like light against the pure black background.

A cold body, terrifying strength, and outstanding night vision ability... These things that have been revealed for a long time now have perfect answers.

He is not a ghost in a sheet, not a mythical god, he is the same kind of rotting monster.

The vampire saved him from the vampire.He chewed on this absurd fact, a little wanting to laugh and a little scared.

The red-eyed vampire did not urge him, but just stood at the door and waited quietly.

He thought he would hesitate for a long time, but it only took him a minute to follow up—if this guy was going to hurt him, he just had to stand by at the basement entrance.

In the dark corridor, Carl stepped on a piece of soft, wriggling tissue, and was about to take out the flashlight for illumination, when the guy walking in front stopped him.

"Don't look."

Thinking of what had just splashed on his face, he silently put the flashlight back.

If he could leave this place alive, he would no longer want to see meat for at least half a month.

"Are they... still alive?" Carl asked worriedly as he was almost at the stairs.

Just thinking about the touch of that pile of meat made him disgusted.

"It will be dawn in a few hours." The vampire's voice was unconsciously cold, "Haven't you seen their fate?"

Carl didn't realize what he was referring to for a moment, but when he did, his heart missed several beats.

He thought he knew what the suspicious ashes were on the hall floor.Vampires were afraid of the sun, he should have thought of that.If these monsters are willing to stay in the basement, it’s fine, as long as they come to the surface world, they are doomed to be reduced to ashes in the sun.Remembering that he touched those ashes without knowing it, he rubbed his right hand vigorously on his clothes.

At this moment, the moon rose from the other end of the horizon, and the pale light illuminated everything in the front hall through the empty window. It also allowed Karl to see clearly the vampire who had been with him for most of the night: he was very Tall, more than half a head taller than Karl, wearing a full set of elegant black clothes, a bit like those old-fashioned gentlemen in movies; the hair is just below the shoulder length, pale gold that is so light that it is almost silver - the color of moonlight - covered by a The straps tie loosely.

For some reason, a phrase that I forgot its origin came to Carl's mind: vampires walk in the moonlight, just like humans walk in the sun.

"Thank you...you saved me." He actually had a lot to say, but this was the only sentence left on his lips.

The blond vampire turned his head.

His handsome features were enhanced by the scarlet eyes, but even Karl had to admit that the scene was beautiful.

Even if he had some doubts before, at this moment, he was finally convinced that the other party was not human.

"My name is Carl Morrison." Carl's face was pale, but strangely, he didn't feel a trace of fear, as if they had known each other for a long time, "What about you, Mr. Vampire?"

The corners of the vampire's lips lifted a little, and this slightly pleasant smile relieved the strong inhumanity on his body.

"Edgar, Edgar Fogelsand."

"Are you hurt?" Carl moved closer.He noticed that Edgar's jacket was torn several times, exposing the pale marble skin underneath, "Did those things do it?"

Edgar nodded, "Yes."

"Can I do something?" After saying that, he regretted it a little. No matter how friendly Edgar was this night, it couldn't change his nature as a blood-sucking monster.But Edgar was injured to save him, and he thought he was responsible for it.

The vampire's head rested on his neck, his cold lips pressed against his skin, and Karl shuddered.But the fear and cold didn't last long. As the fangs pierced through the skin—the pain was not as painful as expected, like being pricked by a thorny thorn—all the strength in his body was taken away, and he could only Leaning feebly against Edgar's cold body.

The flow of blood led to hallucinations in front of Karl's eyes: the most beautiful day of the year, the color of fire, the halo of red copper, the lake burning, and the flowers blooming against the dusk.He rode a horse and galloped towards the distant castle in the afterglow of the setting sun, which was his home, a warm and beautiful home.In order to protect a person, he must go back before the evil of the night falls.

Carl's fingers entangled Edgar's blond hair like flowing moonlight, and slowly closed his eyes, as if falling into a dream from which he could not wake up.

In the long and deep corridor, the brass animal head swallowed green flames, and the faint cold light could only illuminate the floor tiles under his feet.

He vaguely felt that his perspective was a bit strange, but he couldn't tell what was different.There were occasional doors along the way, all of which were covered with arm-thick chains and heavy iron locks—he stared at the hands that obviously belonged to children, and suddenly understood the problem.

Why is he here, and where is he going?Why him?

He lowered his head, and found that the shape of his shadow seemed to have changed, and something was about to break through the limit.

……

From the cold and whatnot, Karl slept uncomfortably, tossing and turning all the time.

He knew he was dreaming, but he just couldn't wake up - he always dreamed similar things, but never as clearly as today.Anyway, after he gets up for two hours, he will gradually forget it, just like other people who have nightmares.

After a while, he stretched out an arm and groped around.It was too dark, and he wanted to turn on the light. Normally, he could touch the sling of the desk lamp just by reaching out his hand, but today, instead of touching what he wanted, he almost rolled to the ground.The roll made him fully awake, staring blankly at the ceiling with his eyes open, and automatically replaying what happened yesterday in his mind.

He remembered everything that had happened at Webster Manor last night: the basement, the remains of the vampire, the monsters lurking in the dark... He also remembered being saved by a blond vampire, twice, and finally the vampire sucked his blood.

He found himself lying on a hard loveseat under a well-made wool coat.There were several rips on the sleeves of the coat, and two silver buttons were missing. It was the one worn by the vampire yesterday. This discovery made him a little embarrassed.

It's not bright yet... No, it's not that it's not dark, it's just that the curtains are drawn tightly, blocking the light from the sky outside.He rubbed his sore muscles and got up from the sofa, still wearing yesterday's clothes.

He opened the curtains, and it was just dawn outside, and his pale cheeks were reflected on the glass window—with regular features, at the stage of transformation from a boy to an adult man.He withdrew his gaze and turned to the rest of the room: this was an overly empty living room, with no other furniture except the hard sofa.He found the bathroom on the right side of the corridor to solve some personal problems, thinking about his current situation.

This should be the lair of the blond vampire, who sucked his blood and brought him to this place to spend the night.It was dawn now, and the blond vampire should have rested in a safe and dark corner... He pulled out his right hand from his pocket as if he had been electrocuted, and there was a shallow bloody slit on his finger.He sucked the oozing blood, and carefully removed the letter opener with the handle shaped like a coiled snake again.In addition, he also touched a coin-like thing and took it out together.

He rubbed his eyes and thought he had read it wrong, but it was indeed a gold coin, with a knight's head on the front and a rose and a long sword on the back, which seemed to be quite old.

There is absolutely no way he brought this out from Wilbert Manor, if it was he would definitely remember it.

— Valuable things, jewelry, gold, whatever, as long as they are valuable.

The conversation with the vampire from last night came up again, and he wasn't sure why the blond vampire would give him this, but he had to admit it had done him a great favor.He wants to use this gold coin to get back his cello from those bastards.

There are no unconditional favors.He thought of his mother's teachings, touched the small hole on his neck that had already healed, and meditated that he had paid the price with blood—maybe this was not enough, not enough to repay what the blonde vampire gave him, but he would always remember this kindness.

Finally, without disturbing the vampires in the house, he quietly left through the door.

Only then did he realize that it was a magnificent three-story building with gray-white stone walls, brick-red roofs and elegant wrought iron railings. It was located in the most safe and wealthy area of ​​the town, surrounded by well-kept hedges.

39 Wiggelson Street, he recited the address silently in his mind.

Swear to God, even if one day the exorcist pointed a gun at him, he would not sell out the creatures that lived here, ever.