Feathers and Teeth

Extract 1- Wings

This extract is from chapter 2 of my story, "Feathers and Teeth." Hopefully it makes sense on its own, however, heres some context anyway;

The story is set an alternate 1940s London where many fantasy creatures exist. However, Vampires are the most numerous and many of the other creatures have been driven out of London or "high society" due to the Vampire's opinions of societal hierarchy. Humans don't know of the existence of these creatures.

Our two main characters meet at a Masquerade ball for high society during chapter one and spend the evening together ;) This extract is taken from chapter two which follows on shortly from this evening.

This story has been proof read, but not officially edited.

Charles sat on the velvet sofa, a book balanced precariously on one knee, his face glowing orange from the dim light of the candles. The door hinge creaked open and patent oxfords clicked against the polished oak floor.

"I was just finishing up. I'll need a good few hours sleep if we're going to be running around London." He spoke softly, eyes still skimming the pages in his lap.

"I'm afraid that's going to have to wait."

The footsteps stopped behind the sofa and Charles raised his head, beginning to turn to face his host. Mathias stopped him with a cold hand on his jaw and plunged the point of a long needle into the base of his neck. Charles shot up from the sofa, whirling around, hands grasping at his neck.

"What in the heavens was that!?" He cried, his eyes wide in confused panic.

"It had to be done. You'll thank me once it's over." Mathias assured, his face calm and his dark eyes honed on Charles' face. Charles staggered unsteadily towards him, his feet dragging uselessly against the floor as though they were dead weights.

"What..what do you..." he slurred, his tongue laying uselessly in his mouth, "what have you done...too..me?" He had closed the space between them now, clutching desperately at the lapels of the taller man's dinner jacket. His body stooped and his face contorted in rage. It wasn't a look that suited the usually soft eyes and pink lips. He spotted the glass syringe, the remnants of a vile back liquid bubbling away inside.

"What in the...hell...hells...?"

His body went stiff against Mathias', eyes rolling back in their sockets. Mathias pried the stiff fingers from his jacket and lowered the smaller man gently to the floorboards. His head jerked uncomfortably as spasms spread throughout his body, the muscles in his neck seized and his body shook wildly.

Mathias reached down and grasped the man's flailing foot, untying the laces on his brown dinner shoes and pulling them off easily. He straightened up from his crouch and stood over Charles.

"Everything will be fine, my dear, in time." He watched as the body stilled. Then, he turned on his heel and left the study, calling out to the butler who stood at his post in the main corridor, "Take him to the west quarters, the largest room, with the east facing window. Oh, and tell the maids to run me a bath."

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A crash in the corridor stirred Mathias from his thoughts. The morning sunlight shone through one window by the door, casting a bright, summery glow over the dining hall. Yet, he sat at the other end of the long oak table, shaded from the sun in the shadowed end of the room.

"Good morning, Charles." He called cheerily, "are you feeling any better?"

The heavy door at the sunny end of the table shifted open and Charles came stumbling through. He wore nothing but his dress shirt and boxers. His reply came low and strained, "Whatever you have done to me, Mathias, may you burn forever in the pits of Hell."

"Come now, that's not very nice. You know very well that's not going to happen. Come sit in the light, let me look at you."

Charles made his way to the closest chair. Mathias stood from his seat and watched the man as he sat, basking in the morning sunlight. He looked awful. His long bright hair was dull, stuck to his face with beads of sweat. His eyes were bloodshot and dark circles ringed them, his usually bronzed skin was grey and thin. Mathias scrunched his nose and sighed, he smelled awful too. Like burned wood and rotting flesh.

"Last night was so divine, why must you ruin it so?" Charles spoke softly, all previous anger gone, "Ariane will be looking for me. I can't turn up home in such a state."

"You're not going home, Charles. Tell me, does she know?" Mathias said, voice clear and stern.

"Does she know what?" Charles questioned, looking up now to meet the other mans dark eyes.

"Does Ariane know what you are?"

Recognition crossed Charles face briefly, before it settled and he looked back down at his hands in shame. "I'd hoped you wouldn't work it out. I suppose I was naive in thinking so. Ariane doesn't know, I have never told her."

"Does she never suspect? I knew from the moment I saw you, your scars just confirmed it. What wife does not know that their lover is a beast?"

Charles stood immediately, glaring at Mathias and slamming his fist into the table, "She is a human! Ariane is human and so am I!"

"I wouldn't be too sure." Mathias sneered, showing a row of perfect pearly teeth. He looked down pointedly. Charles followed his gaze to his fist, halfway through the table, surrounded by a crater of splintered wood.

He raised his fist, backing away in panic, "what have you done to me? Mathias, what have you done!"

"I've given you back what was taken away. I've saved you from this pitiful mortal life. You and I, Charles, we can find the men who took them. They can suffer how you did! You don't need to hide anymore. Not with me! Not here!" He wanted to hold Charles, grasp him and never let go, but he had backed into the wall, a good two meters of morning sunlight between them. Mathius stood helplessly in the shadows as Charles released a guttural groan, grasped his head in his hands and fell to his knees.

He released his head and began tearing at his chest, shredding the thin fabric of his shirt, his face contorted in pain as the fabric fell easily to the floor. He bent over, crying out in anguish, his back to Mathias. Mathias watched in wonder as the firm muscles in his back stretched and his bones shifted, settling in new positions. His shoulder blades protruded from his back, elongating and contorting until they finally broke through the skin, folding out into a wingspan of almost ten feet. The wings sprouted large white feathers, some cutting sharply through the muscle and skin of his shoulders and up his neck where they seamed to blend into his hair, coated in a thick layer of dark blood.

Then, everything seemed to still. All that could be heard was Charles' panting, wheezing breaths, before he collapsed sideways, the wings wrapping around his body like a protective shield.

Mathias didn't even think, he raised his arm in front of his face, and ran into the sunlight. He could feel it burning at his hairline and scalp as he grasped at Charles shoulder, hooking his hand under his armpit and dragging him back into the shadows. They slumped against the table and Mathias pulled the other man up to his chest.

"Charles, you're free. This is who you are, this is! And look at you Charles, you are magnificent."