𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗:
The first kill is truly haunting
(1863)
TW: Death and Murder.
JASPER WHITLOCK BLINKS OPEN HIS CRIMSON-RED EYES, unaware that his green eyes had transformed into the color of what he would most crave.
His eyes must be deceiving him, he thought to himself.
It seemed too good to be true that his eyes could see more clearly than before.
His senses felt heightened tenfold.
He was extremely overwhelmed with what was happening to him.
"Hello, there." A voice behind him, so angelic, so soft, so hypnotic, a hint of posh.
Jasper turns around, and the blonde woman in front of him is a sight for the heavens.
She's ethereal, with her straight golden blonde hair, small face, downward-turned light pink lips, and the most adorable, buttoned nose he's ever seen.
"Hi," Jasper responds, his voice suddenly breathless from the sight before him.
Then he remembers that this was the woman who was behind the other three women.
The woman giggles. And he smiles at the delightful sound.
"You must be confused," she tells him, walking towards him, more like gliding, her movements so smooth and calculated.
"Very," Jasper agrees as he stands up, meeting the mysterious woman in the middle.
"Eloise. Pleasure of meeting you," Eloise introduces, offering her hand for him to take. He gratefully took it, placing a slow peck on top of her hand.
As he was about to introduce himself, Eloise smiles and says, "Major Jasper Whitlock. I had the opportunity to hear your introduction earlier."
Jasper recalled the early events. He suddenly placed a hand on his neck, where a wound is suspected to have been. It healed so suddenly.
"So, you do remember," Eloise says, with guilt in her eyes, that Jasper swears he could feel it himself.
"I-don't know what to say," Jasper says, confusion eating him up as the questions start to float in his head, and he is sure that Eloise can supply him with answers.
"I don't expect you to," Eloise says, placing a hand on top of his hand that is still on his neck.
Then she became nervous, and Jasper sensed it as if it were a sixth sense, and all he wanted to do was calm her down.
And he successfully did so.
Eloise did not seem to notice, but he did.
Surely that was his doing.
"I truly apologize. I tried to stop it from happening, but I couldn't, so here you are." Eloise blabbers quickly, trying to release herself from the guilt she's been feeling for three slow days.
"Tried to stop what from happening? Is something wrong?" Jasper asks, not being able to understand what she meant.
Eloise contemplated whether to be blunt.
Maria shouldn't have tasked her with telling him the truth. She has yet to speak to another person outside of the coven, let alone talk to a man.
"You're a vampire," Eloise tells him seriously as Jasper feels her emotions shift from nervousness to nothingness.
As if her emotions were suddenly gone, vanished from thin air.
Jasper did not know if this was a joke that this woman in front of him escaped from the madhouse or if this woman was truly serious.
Taking in his silence, Eloise decided to speak up, "You do not believe me. I cannot blame you. You must think of me as a lunatic, but I assure you I'm not. Nor is this any kind of jest. You are a vampire."
"Vampires are a myth," Jasper says as he walks away from her, sitting back on the bed.
Eloise purses her lips. "That is exactly what I said when I was in your predicament." and decided to explain further, hoping that what she thought of doing next would work.
"Look around you. Does anything feel different? Heightened, perhaps?" Eloise points out that Jasper did as he was told. And merely gives her a nod.
"Your sense of smell is overwhelmed with the scents around you."
And it did.
"You feel this urge to...feed," Eloise says carefully.
And Jasper's throat tightens, feeling as if an iron is pressed against his throat, dry and scratchy enough to make it feel painful.
"Why is that?" Jasper asks.
"You're hungry."
Then he realized what vampires lusted for in myths.
Blood.
"No." Jasper finally says: Standing up to his feet, suddenly pacing.
A hand went to his forehead, a habit that he seemed to have, even when he was human.
He could feel the dread radiating from Eloise, not for herself, but for the feeling of dread that Eloise felt for him.
"How do I... feed?"Jasper asks, looking at Eloise's eyes that he now only noticed as crimson red.
"I'll teach you how, but you need to... kill someone," Eloise did not know how to sugarcoat the words escaping from her lips, how to cover the gruesome details of being one of her kind.
"I will not kill someone. Is there any other way?" Jasper asks.
Just the thought of killing someone felt terrible.
He cannot imagine himself taking someone's life.
"If there were another way to live this life, then I would have found it." Eloise says, then continues, "I'll ensure you get fed. Follow me." Eloise then exits the barn with Jasper trailing behind her.
Maria, Nettie, and Lucy had just begun hunting in another town.
It's nighttime. The stars shine through the skies, guiding their path toward the forest.
Heading towards the town's tavern, where Eloise usually finds her appetite.
The taverns are where one can find the worst of people.
"Stay here," Eloise orders Jasper as she leaves him hidden behind a carriage.
Eloise walks towards the tavern, where she is at once greeted by the noise of men cheering, drinking, and yelling.
She sits down on the stool, and a man walks towards her and speaks.
"A fancy lady like you shouldn't be here." The man says his words are a slur.
People often call women of supposedly questionable morals "fancy ladies."
"And who are you to say such things?" Eloise asks, hiding her annoyance. She has dealt with men like him.
"A gentleman that cares for a lady's reputation in society," he replies, placing his hand on the table.
Eloise looked at the man's hand; it was bruised in the knuckles.
She then looks at his belt, a whip residing in the leather holster with a confederate flag imprinted in the middle.
Eloise frowns. White men and their ability to think so highly of themselves never cease to disgust her.
"Well. I'm rather rebellious," Eloise says, using her voice to lure men to her trap, to her very grasp.
The man is instantly wrapped between her dainty fingers, and she grins to herself. "Would you like to go outside?"
"Pleasure, love," the man says, and Eloise stands up from the stool and hastily grabs a bottle of beer, hiding it behind her.
Eloise leads the man toward the forest. The man instantly grabs the nape of her neck and roughly places his lips against hers.
She plays along as her lips go to his neck.
"I'm not sorry for what I ought to do," but before the man could question, she bites his neck deeply.
She places a hand over his mouth, muffling his terrified screams.
Until he stopped fighting.
Eloise pulls away from him. Immediately placing the bottle near where she had bitten, the blood flowed towards the bottle.
When she hears Jasper from behind her, she tells him to keep his distance from her and the body. His expression is feral. "No, stay away!" Eloise exclaims.
Unfortunately, he did not. As Eloise predicted, before he could take a bite for himself.
Eloise grabs him and speeds him away.
Towards the deepest part of the forest, she pushes him into the tree, grabbing both of his hands and placing them behind him.
"Calm down, or I won't give this to you," Eloise says as she shows him the bottle with her free hand.
She tightens her hold on him. Jasper fought her hold on him, failing miserably, questioning how strong she was.
"Fine," Jasper says, but he restrains himself as he looks towards her, seeing her face closely, seeing every detail of her features.
"Here you go-" Eloise says as she hands over the bottle, then takes it back, losing the grip on his arm.
"Drink it. Slowly, " Jasper took it in his hold, placing the lip of the bottle on his own.
Eloise needs to see his control when it comes to blood.
And he did not have control, as Eloise expected, again. Jasper is a newborn; it is no surprise.
He finished the bottle. He felt relieved. Then he remembered what Eloise was doing earlier before a cloud of hunger took over him from the sight of blood.
A dead man in her arms, with blood in her mouth, still has.
"You killed him," Jasper says, and Eloise fixes her posture, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.
"I had to. Not all people deserve to live, Jasper. He has a whip and is stupidly flaunting his confederate symbol,"
Jasper's lip tightens, and he gives her a curt nod of understanding and agreement.
"It's better that I do your first kill indirectly," Eloise tells him.
The first kill is always the freshest memory in her mind.
She remembered it as if it were yesterday.
"Now, I'll explain everything after I bury the body. Follow me, but keep your distance. Listen to me this time, please." Eloise pleads as she bats her eyelashes, which Jasper seems to soften at the sight of.
He gives her his charming smile.
"Okay," he nods as Eloise walks towards the body.
He kept his word.