Twilight of the Dead Read online

  Mariya gasped as the last of the thralls passed close to our hiding place. After they had gone by, she put her lips to my left ear and whispered to me.

  "I've met one of them before, in Stalingrad. When the Germans surrendered, the NKVD seconded me from signals to help interrogate an enemy prisoner of war. Berlin was arranging a POW exchange with Moscow, trading the son of a senior Politburo member for this prisoner and the NKVD wanted to know why. Bojemoi, what was his name?" She shook her head, frustrated at not being able to remember.

  "Anyway, I talked with this prisoner. He seemed to be terrified of being sent back to Germany and said he was a dead man if we went through with the exchange. He told me about his experiences with a Panzergrenadier unit assigned to capture the Red October factory zone in the autumn of 1941. Constanta was given command of the unit and led them on several suicidal raids behind the Soviet lines. The Rumanian made no effort to hide the fact he was a vampyr. Instead he used it as a weapon to terrify the Germans into following his orders. They slaughtered a smert krofpeet squad I later discovered included my brother Josef. Constanta was training the men for a particular mission. He'd heard reports of Jewish soldiers within the Red Army at Stalingrad raising a golem to fight the vampyr."

  I had kept up with Mariya's recollection until then, but now I was lost. "A golem?"

  "It's a kind of bodyguard, a man-made creature created from clay and brought to life by words from a holy book. According to legend, Jews have created golems to protect them from rumours they were committing ritual murder. Anyway, this prisoner claimed to see Constanta fight a golem in the tunnels beneath Stalingrad."

  "Did the exchange go ahead?" I asked.

  Mariya nodded. "Yes. When the prisoner was leaving, he pulled aside his collar so I could see two puncture wounds on the side of his neck. There were two puncture wounds. He wasn't terrified of the vampyr - he'd been Constanta's thrall. The only true statement the prisoner said was the one that hurt me most, about the killing of my brother, Josef. That was why I volunteered for a smert krofpeet unit. Like you and Grigori, I've been hunting Constanta ever since, but I've also been searching for that German prisoner."

  A piece of concrete shifted in the rubble behind us. We swung round, bringing our weapons up to fire, fingers reaching for the triggers. Two German soldiers were crouched in the ruined building we'd been using as cover. Both had their machine pistols ready to shoot but neither man was firing. I put my hand out to stop Mariya from pulling her trigger.

  "Don't shoot!"

  "Why the hell not?" she demanded, not moving her gaze from the Germans.

  "They could have shot us before but they didn't. I think they're..." My words ran dry as I peered at the enemy soldiers' faces. "I know these men. I've seen them before."

  "Where?"

  "Castle Constanta. I helped them escape from Gorgo." I lowered my weapon and addressed the two men in German. "I'm sorry but I don't remember your names. It's been a while since Sighisoara."

  The younger German smiled and nodded. "I thought it was you," he replied. "Ralf didn't believe me, but he's always been the suspicious one in our family. I'm Hans, Hans Vollmer."

  "Being suspicious has kept me alive," Hans's brother said quietly. He gestured at Mariya. "Does your girlfriend speak any German?"

  "I speak plenty of German," Mariya replied tartly, "but I'm not his girlfriend."

  "You seem closer than most of the comrades I've met," Ralf growled.

  I could feel myself starting to blush and was grateful for a cloud passing in front of the moon. "How long have you been watching us?"

  "Several minutes," Hans said. "We've picked up enough Russian over the years to understand enemy transmissions and conversations." He pointed at Mariya. "She was telling you about Constanta and a German prisoner in Stalingrad, yes?"

  "One of the vampyr thralls, yes," Mariya agreed. "I've just seen him with dozens of others, all in German uniforms. They went into Potsdamer Station. We think Constanta is inside."

  "That shrieking on the air raid sirens, it drew them here," Hans said. "We were fighting a battle west of here when half our men simply walked away. In the confusion we got separated from our comrade, Karl. We followed the thralls here and saw you watching from the shadows."

  "That was his name. Karl, Karl Richter!" Mariya said.

  "You know Karl?" Ralf glared at us, fingers shifting uneasily on his weapon.

  "He was the reason Constanta flew back into Stalingrad after the Germans surrendered," she said. "He must be important to the Rumanians, for the vampyr lord to make such an effort."

  "Y-You're wrong," Hans said, turning to his brother. "Karl can't be a vampyr, can he? It's impossible. I mean, he's fought alongside us in daylight. The sun burns the undead."

  "He could be a daywalker," I said, remembering how Eisenstein carried the vampyr taint but was still able to function like other humans. "One of my comrades was bitten by Constanta but managed to fight off the infection, the hunger for blood. He gained the strength and resilience of the vampyr but could still walk in daylight."

  "He sounds like a good man to have on your side," Ralf muttered. "Where is he now?"

  "Dead. Murdered by Gorgo," Mariya replied, sparing me from having to say the words.

  "Maybe Karl is a daywalker," Ralf muttered. "Or maybe he's one of Constanta's personal thralls, assigned to infiltrate our ranks after the Rumanians switched sides. That'd explain why Gunther died in the Führerbunker and Karl got out of there alive, unscathed." The German spat on the ground, his features souring as a fresh thought occurred to him.

  "God, for all we know it was Karl who murdered Gunther. That's why he made us leave the bunker with him after Gunther died, so we wouldn't find out who pulled the trigger."

  Dismay crept across Hans's young face. "Karl was the only person left alive at Castle Constanta when we got there last August." His face darkened. "The vampyr must have known we were coming. They pulled out but left him there in the dungeon for us to find..."

  "That means he's been watching us ever since," Ralf snarled. "Manipulating us."

  I didn't understand then much of what Ralf was saying, but I got the gist of his words. "Why? Why would Constanta have one of his thralls pick you two out for such special treatment?"

  "Revenge for what we did to the vampyr at Ordzhonikidze," Hans said.

  "You're the mutineers, the men who ambushed the vampyr?" Mariya asked. I'd told her about what the Vollmer brothers had done, never thinking we would meet them again.

  "For all the good it did us," Ralf replied. "If Karl did betray us, if he did murder Gunther, then that godless bastard is mine, understand? I want him to die by my hand... slowly." He started towards the nearby station where the undead were gathered, but Hans pulled him back.

  "Constanta has more than a hundred Rumanians and even more of their thralls in there," he said. "You go in there, all guns blazing, and you'll be throwing your life away and ours!"

  "He's right," I said. "We've got to find out what the vampyr have planned so we can prepare."

  "How?" Ralf asked, frustration in his voice.

  "There used to be an external staircase on the western side of the station," I recalled. "It led up to a cafe overlooking the platforms. I went in for coffee once when I was a student. If the steps are still intact, we could climb up to a vantage point above the vampyr and maybe listen to them without being seen."

  I could see Ralf wasn't convinced.

  "Have you got any better ideas?"

  It took us a quarter of an hour to locate a safe path to the bomb-blasted staircase and climb the twisted, tortured metalwork to where the cafe had been. Like the station's roof, most of it was missing, devastated by artillery fire, but enough remained for all four of us to get a clear view of the spectacle below. Amid the rubble and carnage of ruptured train tracks and fallen masonry, close to two hundred figures stood in the moonlight, listening as a lone figure addressed them from atop a heap of debris. The aristocratic postur
e of the speaker and his flowing black cape with its raised collar suggested it was Constanta, but it was the sound of his haughty voice that confirmed my suspicion. The vampyr lord was congratulating his warriors, praising their efforts to infiltrate both sides of the battle for Berlin, using their presence to undermine each army's efforts.

  "You have fought a campaign of insurgency and terror, turning the weapons of these foolish mortals against them. Earlier tonight my second-in-command, Sergeant Gorgo, presented me with the blueprints for a bomb that can transform day into night. With such a device in our arsenal, we could feed whenever we choose, no longer forced to cower in the darkness while searching for sustenance.

  "Soon our true purpose in this war will be revealed; our real crusade will be unleashed upon German and Russian alike. We shall storm forth and show them how to run a Blitzkrieg, and let them bear witness to the true meaning of terror. They shall soil themselves with shame before our fury and flee before our might! We shall ascend to our rightful status as the new master race and bring a new order to all of Europe. Already our allies in other lands are preparing their own revolutions, moving into positions of power and influence. The vampyr nation, so long a dream for many of us, shall become reality - a reality that will stand for a thousand years!"

  The crowd roared back its approval, their adulation rising and falling and rising again, like waves crashing upon a beach. Constanta appeared to be savouring the moment, proudly surveying the dozens of vampyr and thralls gathered around him.

  Finally, after more than a minute of cheering and roaring from the throng, he silenced all of them with a single gesture. "Tomorrow, all vampyr will return with me to Transylvania, where we shall prepare ourselves for the coming blood war. The thralls shall remain in Berlin, continuing their efforts to destabilise both sides of the humans' petty conflict. The longer each side keeps fighting, the easier our ultimate conquest becomes. It will not be long before we are reunited, bound together for all eternity under one flag, one nation: the vampyr nation!"

  Again, the crowd of blood drinkers and slaves roared its approval for their master's voice. I could see Constanta laughing, his head thrown back as he soaked up the noise, letting it wash over him. When the chanting and shouting finally died down again, the vampyr lord stretched out his arms sideways in a messianic gesture.

  "All that is tomorrow. Until then, I give you your freedom. Let us have one night of pure, unadulterated bloodlust. Go out on to the streets of Berlin and sate yourselves. Feed on the humans until you are bloated by this victory. Sup until you can sup no more. Drain the lifeblood from their veins as we shall soon drain the sunlight from the sky. Go, my brethren! Drink blood and be merry. The twilight of humanity is at hand. Go!"

  TEN

  That night was the most gruesome seen in the lifespan of Berlin. You will find no record of it in the official history books; no mention of it among the military despatches issued by German and Russian forces in the capital. That long night of blood has been stricken from the record of the past, lost among a thousand other atrocities.

  Across the city many Red Army soldiers were busy celebrating their victory by raping and looting the civilians left to die by Hitler and his generals. For years afterwards, the horrific reality of what happened in the days after the Führer committed suicide was rarely discussed or even mentioned. Even now, decades later, the truth is being suppressed.

  Is it no wonder people are unwilling to acknowledge the truth? Who would believe such a thing possible if they had not witnessed it? I survived that long, dark night of terror, else I would not be writing these words, and the carnage I saw then still haunts my nightmares and torments my waking hours. Perhaps the truth is best buried in the past, for it does no good now to talk about it. There are enough monsters in our modern world, happily going about their crusades and wars, claiming everything they do is for the best. We have little need to revive monsters from the past, certainly not ones with the ferocity and savagery of Constanta's vampyr. But I have promised myself that I will tell the whole truth in this volume, so I must continue.

  The four of us stayed in our vantage point overlooking the ruined station for close to an hour after Constanta dismissed his undead warriors. The vampyr went searching for easy prey, ready victims for slaughtering. Berlin had plenty of them, cowering in basements and tunnels, pleading for their lives when doors were kicked open and creatures lurched in from the darkness outside. Most of the marauders were Red Army soldiers, I'm sorry to say, drunk on vodka and victory, searching for somewhere to sate their lust, someone on whom to revenge the Soviet people. The elderly and the children were safe, but teenage girls and women suffered terribly from the attentions of my comrades. What happened in Berlin as the Wehrmacht staggered towards capitulation was a disgrace, but it's a disgrace that's been repeated in many wars, before and since.

  But the other marauders abroad that night lusted after something else: blood. They tore into homes and hovels, shelters and basements, throwing themselves upon all those within: women, children, the old and infirm alike. None were safe from the attentions of the vampyr.

  The thralls assisted in this carnage, sniffing out fresh victims in the darkness for their bloodsucking masters, shooting those who tried to flee, and holding down those who tried to fight back. The centre of Berlin was a killing ground where whole buildings were emptied of human souls in a few minutes of brutality. Throats were ripped open, veins gouged and gorged upon. By the time a team of vampyr had finished in a basement, not one person was left alive and the floor was awash with blood, still draining from corpses carelessly tossed aside.

  We waited until the sound of screaming was no longer audible before making our way down the broken staircase. All of us were still absorbing what Constanta had told his followers. I quickly explained to Hans and Ralf about the bomb Rainer and his team of scientists had been developing in the underground laboratory near Gottow, some fifty kilometres south of Berlin.

  "God in heaven, if the vampyr can make such a weapon..." Hans whispered, his words trailing away as the full implications of this horror hit home. "What hope is there for any of us?"

  "Forget about that for now," Ralf said. "We have a duty to the people still alive in Berlin. We can't leave them to be slaughtered by the vampyr like cattle."

  "Ralf's right," Mariya agreed. "We all heard the screams from nearby as the undead set off on their killing spree. We have to do something."

  "But these aren't your people," Hans replied. "The Red Army has spent the past four years fighting against Germany, and now you want to save my country from the vampyr?"

  "We fought soldiers of the Wehrmacht, not civilians. We were at war with Germany, but not with its civilians," she snapped. "For better or for worse, that war's over now. We have a common enemy. If we want to defeat Constanta and his kind, we need to work together."

  "Workers of the world unite?" Ralf asked, sarcasm evident in his tone.

  "No, warriors of the world unite," I said. "We're offering to fight alongside you against the vampyr, to save some of your people from these monsters. Do you want our help, or are you too proud to admit you need it?"

  Ralf glared at me, the muscles in his jawline rippling, one of his fists clenching and unclenching. I felt certain he was about to take a swing at me, and tensed myself to sway away from the blow when it came. Instead he opened his right hand and extended it to me. I pressed my palm against his and we shook hands.

  "Congratulations, comrade," Ralf growled at me. "You just joined the defenders of Berlin."

  "What about weapons?" Mariya asked. "Bullets are useless against these fiends."

  Hans pulled out magazines of ammunition from his knapsack. "Silver-tipped rounds. Use these well; we haven't got many to spare. Aim for the heart or the brain."

  "We know," I said, exchanging the new clip with the one in my borrowed MP38.

  I couldn't help smiling at the irony of the situation. If Gorgo hadn't confiscated our Russian submachine guns, Mariya
and I wouldn't have been able to use Hans's special ammunition. The vampyr had thought he was hurting us, delivering one last blow to our dignity before we parted. I hoped for the chance to use my machine pistol on the Rumanian, to show him what a mistake he'd made.

  Finding vampyr was not difficult that night. We walked slowly north, heading back towards the Brandenburg Gate, listening for the sound of screaming from the buildings nearby. The first victim we saw was a child; a girl no older than seven. She ran out of the shadows, her nightdress stained red with blood, both hands clasped over the wound on her neck. Two vampyr came after her, howling at the air as they pursued her across the rubble-strewn street, taunting and toying with her. They didn't notice us until we were standing only a few metres away, our weapons ready to fire.

  "Fools! Your weapons are for no match for our kind," the nearest vampyr growled.

  "Are you sure about that?" Ralf asked.

  He fired three shots into the creature and it exploded into dust and ashes. The other vampyr staggered away from the child, the monster's face clouded by disbelief. Two more silver-tipped bullets spat from Ralf's MP38 and the second blood-drinker was destroyed, the faintest of breezes scattering the remains across nearby rubble.

  Mariya crouched beside the girl, softly whispering to her in German, and persuading the child to take her hands away from the seeping bite marks.

  "She'll live, if more vampyr don't find her."

  Ralf pulled his pistol from its holster and fired a single shot through the girl's skull. Blood from the wound spattered Mariya's face, forcing her to drop the child's body on the ground.

  "Bojemoi. I thought Constanta and his kind were the monsters!" Mariya snarled at Ralf. "Why did you kill her?"

  "You said she'd live. We all know what happens to survivors of vampyr attacks, those who've already been bitten. They become thralls or gradually turn into vampyr." Ralf shoved his pistol back into its holster. "The Rumanians have enough soldiers in their army already. I don't intend to add any more to their ranks, not if I can help it."