"Bischoff, David - Night World" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bischoff David)

Nightworld
by
David Bischoff



PROLOGUE

The sun set and moonless, cloudy night poured across the land.

The vampire awoke.

Nestled comfortably in a satin-lined coffin, the creature felt the Summons immediately, it raised the coffin lid, hesitated briefly and looked about, then stepped out onto the chill flags of the chapel floor. The vampire answered with its mind: "Master I come."

As it stepped into the Nightworld, the creature pondered the Summons. Satan had not called for months. True, the Master had other Servants. Multitudes. But the proximity of its crypt and its admirable record often caused Satan to employ the vampire on missions of considerable import.

Evidently, one such task awaited.

The soft whisper of silk against silk; the black of the creature's clothes echoed the wind and night curling around the forests shivering leaves. Save for the deep crimson of its lips, pallor clung to the exposed surfaces of the beast's face and hands like a brittle sheath of new-fallen snow. The nostrils of its aquiline nose were wide to the scents of the night: the comforting stench of the dead, the seductive fragrance of the living. The eyes owned no color at all, twin windows into oblivion. Its lips were parted, and between lay a darkness marred only by two white points.

Though the night was chill, its breath did not mist.

Walking slowly through the graveyard, long black cape billowing behind, it recalled the way. The path to Hell was not an easy one, and remembering the proper code for the Gates was important. Most important.

Mist already covered the ground and obscured the undergrowth as the vampire gained the forest. Wolves howled to the east and a loud thrashing paralleled his path through the dark trees. Another time the vampire might have investigated. But not that night.

After a time, a mottled moon rose, and a pale shimmer leaked from a break in the roiling clouds.

Awakened by the gleam, bats flapped toward the fitfully illumined mountain in the near-distance.

The vampire turned in the same direction, for at the base of the mountain lay the Gates.

They gleamed with silver fire as the vampire approached and slipped its identification card into the appropriate slot. With a sharp-nailed finger, it tapped the combination.

A voice erupted from the speaker grille . . .

"Guardian Nine Oh Six Aye Four," it said in an emotionless monotone. "You are expected. Vampire Four Nine Bee Oh Oh. The Master awaits. Follow the red arrows to the elevator. The Path has been altered since last you entered. To veer from it is to suffer damnation"

Stainless steel doors parted smoothly to reveal a corridor of gloaming metal walls and dark plastic floor.

The vampire entered, and began its descent into Hell.




ONE

SUNSET had caught Oliver Dolan dozing in the Forest of Fernwold. Unless he sped to a haven behind the walls of Fernwold Castle, he feared a nightcreature would catch him as well.