A Dark Inheritance

Chapter Four

Central London, Friday 13th February 1728 – MDCCXXVIII

Heavy rain thrashed against timber beams in the roof, rotting window frames of the once impressive woollen mill shook menacingly with the loud onslaught. The circular wooden table in the centre of the room bearing a single candle wasn't a target from the wet, although many gaps in the roof of the building in disrepair allowed water to pour down in other areas; the cold air was filled with a pungent smell of burnt coal

In a shaded corner of the room a tall merciless bloodthirsty 173 year old man drank from a dark patterned chalice while listening to the thrashing rain and the rats squealing all around him. He turned his head to the sudden sound of horses arriving on the cobblestones; he had a plan and he needed it to work. The heavy door swung inwards and three unkempt men made their way towards the table and sat down.

The aged man walked towards them with an evil smile. 'Welcome, gentlemen,' he said in a warm and friendly tone, 'tonight we will drink and play whist.' He slammed a large bottle of Gin on the table and proceeded to fill three crystal chalices for his guests.

'Gustav, your generosity knows no bounds,' said the man who was first to pick up his drink.

Gustav looked down upon the frail, grime ridden man with contempt but smiled anyway; he knew who was in control. 'You are all most welcome,' he said, his voice deep as he raised his own glass of red liquid to toast their evening. As he drifted his gaze to eye the nefarious father of a well-known pick pocket and a filthy old man who worked in one of the many slaughterhouses, he forced his free hand deep into his pocket and fished out a pack of cards. 'We will play until the better three players are known, no money will exchange hands but... be warned, the loser of this particular game will have a tremendously high price to pay.'

The drinking continued and the game went on for many hours until the filthy old man was announced the loser, he remained seated. Gustav gazed at him, cranked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes then, in a movement that lasted less than a second, he had the old man held by his neck against the wall. Rain poured down only inches from them so Gustav inhaled deeply, preparing to raise his voice to been heard clearly but was interrupted. The old man's eyes darted from left to right. 'You cheated... you tricked me... I...'

'You knew the rules before this game began,' Gastav said, smiling widely, showing his teeth,'

The old man saw the fangs and began to shake. 'Please no, god no,' he pleaded.

Guatav shook his head. 'You stupid smelly old man, I'm not going to kill you. But you knew the rules, you have a high price to pay and you know what that is?'

'Please,' he begged, 'I don't have much money, for I only work in a slaughterhouse, I barely scrape a living.'

Gustav locked eyes with the old man, seeing his eyes widening with fear. 'So you are used to cutting meat, used to seeing blood?'

'Yes,' the old man confirmed, nodding profusely. He wanted nothing more than to get away from this vile tall man and back to his wife but the man's grip was immensely strong.

'You lost the game and you must pay the price,' Gustav snapped, almost toying with his captive.

'Please... what is it you want from me?' he pleaded, his head still shaking. The two other men remained fixed to their seats, staring at the events unfolding in front of them.

'You will bring me blood, every day,' Gustav demanded, seeming to fill with anger. 'And if you miss a day, just one single day, your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandson will be cursed with the most terrible luck and will become, against his will, a vampire with an even higher price to pay.'

The old man appeared delusional. 'But... but I...'

'You have no choice. You do this, or this burden will live with you forever,' Gustav said smugly, 'and just to prove to you that I couldn't be more serious,' he said, grinning from ear to ear. He gripped the old man by his left wrist, reached for his knife and sliced his hand clean off.'

The two seated men looked on in astonishmentas Gustav let go of the screaming old man and demanded they all leave rightaway. A trail of blood was left towards the door as they left and, as he heardthe horse's hooves galloping away, Gustav fed on the old man's hand and relaxedin the knowledge that he now had a constant blood source. He also held on tothe hope that the blood would one day not arrive, only then would the curse onhim be lifted.