The Dead Vampire
The Dead Vampire
Author: Ludovic
Chapter One

Humphrey the president of Carten learnt about the prophecy made by monk Pat that had gone viral. The first minister of his cabinets to learn of it was the minister of information, Hemingway. There had been murmur in the society concerning it too. Humphrey never took it that seriously until he began to grow concerned as the rumour kept spreading. He was seated in solitude in his bedroom with the thought beating in his heart.

“He will kill the president, marry his daughter and kill his guardian? That’s unbelievable. This might be true. Everyone is clamouring already. No! It can’t. I did rather see the end of the mother and the child,” Humphrey said.

He was prepared and his toe knitted on a black suit and black shoes. He held his briefcase in his right hand and signalled the maid as he was leaving. His wife and children were abroad for their studies. His driver had prepared his favourite car, Bugatti Veyron and when he saw him walking out with the briefcase, he strode to him and collected it.

En route to the office, Humphrey phoned Hemingway to meet him at the office. He had never heard of such before and it was hard to believe. It was disturbing with the fact that it involved the only four daughters he had. They had also learnt of it and hoped it wasn’t true.

The president’s eyes were opened throughout the night blinking at the ceiling and his psyche was inundated with thought and being disturbed. He was trying hard not to believe the prophecy but it was getting out of hand. He struggled to let it off his psyche.

The president was late to office as a result his inability to sleep early yesterday’s night as a result of the disturbing thoughts trotting his psyche. As Hemingway was walking to his office, he saw his car entering the parking lots.

“Good Morning, President,” the Hemingway greeted.

Humphrey nodded and walked into the office rapidly, his securities demanded to help him with his briefcase and he turned it down. The office was just being opened according to his directives which left the minister lingering at the milieu for his arrival. The minister paced behind him as he walked in. He dropped his briefcase.

Humphrey grabbed a piece of paper and spent a few minutes writing some detail message on it. He stretched it to the Hemingway.

“Go and give it to the Sir Herbert. I want the monk that made the prophecy right here in my UltraDope.”

Sir Herbert was the army commander of Cartens and the closest to Humphrey. Due to their closeness, it was widely acclaimed that Sir Herbert was also his personal assistant due to their closeness.

“Ok,” he collected it, flipped through it and walked out of the office.

The president went on his toe patting his index finger on the brown office table. A few minutes later, the army commander, Sir Herbert was in his office. He saluted him.

“I just received this now. You want the monk in UltraDope?”

Humphrey nodded. UltraDope was the name of the government house of Carten. It was a country that was located on the island of the continent which had developed and became one of the industrial leading country of the world and had maximize its aquatic milieu for the growth of the nation. It was a country with simple culture and coherent values inundated with both the black and white populations.

Sir Herbert left his office to the office of the information minister who was the first person in UltraDope to learn of the viral prophecy. The minister of information was inundated in a file when he received a phone call from the secretary telling him about the presence of the army commander, Sir Herbert. He didn’t think twice before giving his the order to let him in.

“How was your discussion with the President?” Hemingway asked.

“Yes. It went well. I need information about the monk including his residential address. We have to be there. The president want him in UltraDope,” Sir Herbert said.

“Huh!!!”

He drew out his drawer and checked some information on a piece of paper. The army commander was already seated while he went through his laptop. He did a few typing on it and within the twinkle of an eye, the paper came out of the printer. He grabbed it and went through it.

“Yes. This is it. His name is Pat. He lives in Vatice, the city at the north eastern part of Carten,” Hemingway said stretching the papers to him.

The army commander collected it and flipped through it. Vatice was one of the most important cities in Carten due to its rich fertile soil which made it prominent for agriculture activities but the shore had taken its glory which served many purpose despite not being as fertile as Vatice. The largest forest in the country could be found in Vatice and it didn’t sound surprising when the Sir Herbert learnt that he lived in Vatice.

Sir Herbert and the few men he chose to go with board the flight to Vatice and before an hour time, they touched down in the city. Their first visit was to the mayor of the city, Mr Darlington. He visit his office.

“Hey, Sir Herbert. How have you been?” Mr Darlington asked.

“It had been great, Mr Darlington. How has the city of Vatice been?” Sir Herbert said twirling his eyes around the golden ornamented office.

“Oh, well. It has been great. The people have been doing marvelously well.”

“Marvelously well? Are you aware of the rumour being peddled by a monk in this city?”

“A rumour? By a monk?” Mr Darlington was awed, “what’s that? What’s it about?”

“Well. It was a dark prophecy which had been going about and had even reached UltraDope which was disclosed to the president by Minister Hemingway.”

“You mean the minister of information?”

“Yes.”

“How did he learnt of the prophecy? I haven’t heard anything.”

“Do you know, ehmmm…,” he thought for a few seconds, “Monk Pat?”

Mr Darlington without any thought responded.

“Oh, yes. One of the most popular and most respected Monk in Vatice. He is more or less like the local people god. He is an old man despite his age, he is still firm with his two legs. Was he the one who made the prophecy?”

“Yes. He prophesied that a child will be born, he will kill the president, marry his daughters and kill his guardian.”

“What?” Mr Darlington yelled.

He knew how effective the prophecy of the monk could be.

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