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Since I am white British stock and I have been preprogrammed with certain vampire literature whenever I think priest, I see a man in black with a white collar holding a cross. It is an iconic image from many a vampire film and book.
I think some of the most interesting moments in vampires films come when the priest, the man of god, fails because the reality of a vampire causes his faith to crumble. Salem's Lot has a great scene where this happens.
Of course there are other kinds of priests in the world and in legend they can offer different kinds of protection from vampires. In Asian legend a priest can provide written spells that will render the vampire immobile and powerless. The idea that a holy man can protect against what threatens the very soul is a logical one and so they play a big part in vampire lore.
Who is your favourite fictional priest character in a vampire or horror film?
This is a male vampire spirit from India. It feeds on battle grounds, drinking the blood of those wounded in the fighting according to The Encyclopedia of Vampire Mythology. This source also says that once the body is drained these killers take it home to eat the rest.
However Vampires.com and Enchanting Gardens say that there is a much nastier female version of this vampire, the Peymakilir who eats the flesh of the dead and dying. These sources also suggest that the pey may be a merciful death for a wounded soldier.
Summary: In a dystopian world a veteran warrior priest goes against the orders of his church to seek out and rescue his niece who has been kidnapped by vampires. The war with the vampires is supposed to be over, but there are battles left to be fought.
Why you should watch this: It's not my favourite vampire film and it has a lot of problems, but it is action packed and entertaining enough. It also has Paul Bettany and Karl Urban so there is also eye candy.
(#16 in The Diverse Life of Ianthe Jawara, Vampire)
by Natasha Duncan-Drake
Ianthe didn't know what she was expecting from the results of the ritual she and Alex had performed. He had said she would dream of her attacker, but she definitely hadn't thought to end up walking around looking out of someone else's eyes. Almost as soon as Alex had helped her to her rooms she had fallen into bed, but it had to have been past dawn as she dreamed, because she could see natural light wherever she was. It might have been more useful if she had known what the man was thinking, but all she received was the results of his senses.
She couldn't see her new body, of course, but she knew it was him, just like she knew she was dreaming. She'd never had a lucid dream before and it was very strange. Everything around her, sights, smells, tastes had a slightly surreal quality to it, but she was fully aware of everything. It was most odd being in another body; because it was not her own she appeared to be noticing everything in each simple movement.
She seemed to have missed her assailant rising in the morning, because he was already dressed and on the move. It felt like a routine, although she had no idea how she came to that conclusion.
It wasn't too much of a surprise when the man walked into a small room and one side was clearly set up as an altar. There was a large ornate cross sitting right in the centre with an old-looking bible to the right and a chalice to the left. She had never been one for church, but she recognised the trappings. There was even the heavy smell of incense in the air.
As she watched through his eyes, her assailant genuflected, giving her the first glimpse of his hands and arms. He appeared to be wearing a black shirt and his skin was very pale. When he knelt down all she could do was wait.
He started speaking, but even though she recognised Latin, she had no idea what he was saying. She knew enough to guess that the setup was Roman Catholic.
The whole thing was incredibly uninteresting for a while, because she didn't understand what he was saying and it seemed to just be a service of some kind. He moved around, performing little ritualistic movements, and she was pretty sure there was something significant about the way he drank from the chalice, but she couldn't remember what. All she knew was that the wine was way too sweet and cloying for her taste. When the man went silent, having once again knelt down she thought something might be coming.
"Lord, I beg your forgiveness," he finally spoke in English; "I failed in your work last night. I had his child in my grasp and I allowed her to escape. Forgive your servant his sin and bless my task."
For the first time he lifted his head and looked directly at the cross in the centre of the altar. His eyes reflected back in the smooth surface at the centre and she could see the same zeal as she had seen the night before. Unfortunately there wasn't enough surface area to see his face properly. All she could make out was a distorted mouth and one other thing; a white collar among all the black.
"He's a priest," she whispered and what she was seeing suddenly span.
It felt as if something in her chest snapped like old, frayed twine and her eyes snapped open to reveal her own room. Gasping in air, she sat up. There was no pause between thought and action as she scrambled out from under the covers and all but ran across the room. Alex's door was open when she got there.
"He's a priest," she repeated her revelation.
"I know," Alex said, clearly having just climbed out of bed himself; "I dreamed as well. It was unclear, but you pulled me along."
It didn't look as if Alex had been expecting that.
"I thought the church gave up their crusade against supernatural years ago," she said.
"It did, mostly," Alex replied.
"So why is a priest coming after me?"
"I don't know," was not the reply she wanted to hear.
"Have you heard of him?" she demanded and realised belatedly that she was being somewhat petulant.
"I am unsure," was the less than satisfactory response, "but I shall make some enquiries. Meanwhile I suggest you get some more sleep."
"I'm not going to be able to sleep after this," she protested.
Alex did not look impressed.
"Then go and play with your dog," was the put-upon reply.
It was then Ianthe remembered Lilith and turned to find her hellhound standing in the doorway looking vaguely worried.
"Dammit," she said; it appeared that all she had managed to do with the dream was ruffle some feathers.
She had been hoping for so much more. Maybe a full dossier of where to find the madman.
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