Was she friend or foe? Just keep quiet he told himself. His stomach spun. He was strong, he could take her. But she was a threat? 

“By the vampire code, you must repay me for your release,” she said. 

“So, you are an opportunist, what a relief.” he said. “What is your name madame?”

“I am Sarah,” she smiled, “We need to go—Wilhelm.” 

“Go where?”

“I have a safe house for you, but we need to move, fast.”

He looked around the room noticing all the other coffins. 

“Where am I?”

“The De Morlais Tomb.”

He felt a sharp pain in his heart. The memories flooded back. Tegan, she did this to me—with those hunters, the O’Rourkes. He hopped out of the coffin, following Sarah toward the main gate.

The cold wind felt familiar as did the gray autumn sky. He was buried in 1945, he hoped Boston was somewhat recognizable to him.

The noise was unbearable, most of it Wilhelm couldn’t understand. He had been a prisoner for seventy-three years. It took all the strength he possessed to scratch the top of the wooden coffin. The noise was coming closer to him, pounding, thrashing, piercing his sensitive ears. His wooden prison shook.

“Stop, stop,” he cried out covering his ears. A sharp terror filled him as he realized someone was opening the top of his prison.

“Holy Hell.” He heard a woman’s voice, unrecognizable to him. “This can’t be possible.”

He stayed silent. His fear subsiding. He summoned all his strength to open his eyes and meet his new savior. Something dripped onto his mouth, it smelled of—blood. Old instinct kicked in, he licked. More and more flooded his mouth, he was being fed, freed, satiated. Alive again every cell in his being shouted. The droplets invaded every part of him, a high warm buzz melted into his membranes. Strength returned. He lifted his arm and felt his skin, it was whole again. He rose to lock eyes with a skinny blonde, young woman, holding a blow torch.