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Dedicated to XxSoulMate for your wonderful comments and for becoming a fan
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Unum Domus singulis
Per septem Sigilla
Fata omnes
Ad revelatum
* * * * * * *
Callan
I stood in the doorway, unmoving for hours. It was as though I had become a part of the decaying Mansion, slowly turning to stone as the last of the wet Autumn leaves blew past me into the hallway. It was still raining as if the heavens were at war with the earth below - it had been unrelenting for almost three days now, beginning on the eve of the day I had met Daegan. It suited my mood perfectly.
The unmistakable roar of an original 1950’s V8 cut through the storm like a rusty chainsaw as the black Fury swept through the trees. This wasn’t your usual American Hot-Rod, this beast of a car was, and still is the 1958 Plymouth Fury made famous by a certain Horror author. This was Christine, except now she was painted black instead of red. It suited her.
As I began to turn to step back inside, I noticed something glinting in the corner of my eye. I followed the source of the glimmer like a magpie as it brought me to where Daegans truck had scored its vengeful tyre tracks in the gravel as she drove away.
I bent down and carefully scooped up her sunglasses. They must have fallen as she half carried, half dragged me from the cab. She had helped me without question, and I gave her nothing but violence and pain in return. Violence and pain are my specialties, but much like there is honour among thieves, there is honour among Vampires. She had saved my life and I would be in her debt until fate saw fit to provide me with the opportunity to repay her.
I was soaked to the skin by the time I trudged wearily inside, sidestepping the pools of congealed blood which contrasted strikingly with the black and white marble. It was really quite a beautiful sight. I seated myself at the foot of the central staircase and sent my thoughts in search of Daegan.
I had taken too much blood, far too much, but she had made it extremely, bone-crunchingly clear that she wanted nothing to do with me. At least for now, but I was unable to stop worrying about the state I had allowed her to leave in.
I found her quickly, that eerily vacant side of her mind made her easy to locate, but unlike our first encounter on Monday, today there was a hint of activity. A fizzing and sizzling of neurons, like dropping an aspirin into a glass of water.
What can instigate growth in a dead mind and forge new connections out of nothingness?
I stared at her sunglasses in my hand as if they held the answer as the front doors opened.
Gray sauntered through the doorway with his usual cocky swagger, frowning as he shook the rain from his carefully constructed quiff - he’d never really managed to leave the Fifties behind. His entire wardrobe consisted of turned-up jeans, leather jackets, tight tee-shirts, motorcycle boots and crepe-soled shoes. Bette and Julius followed closely behind, both sensibly taking cover from the rain under the shelter of a large golfing umbrella.
All three of them stopped dead as the smell of the coagulated blood hit them.
"Cor blimey Cal, wot t’blazes ‘appened in ‘ere?"
"Do you want the short story or the long one?" I sighed, twiddling Daegans sunglasses between my fingers, wondering why I had just offered to re-live the entire debacle in full.
"Short." Gray and Julius confirmed in unison.
"Every gory detail." Beamed Bette, collapsing the huge umbrella and moving closer to me with an eager expression on her face.
"Aww, sorry Bette, you’ve been out voted," I grinned in relief. I mouthed a silent "thank you" at Julius and Gray as Bette shot me a glare that promised I would suffer untold misery until she got the whole story.
"I drove into a deer - a fully grown buck, went through the windscreen of the Austin and got impaled on that piece of glass."
I gestured to the chunk of glass still laying on the marble as Gray raised a speculative brow.
"I told Daegan to get me to Ann-"
"The Human?"
"Gray," Bette scolded, "We talked about this, just hear him out. Please?"
Reluctantly, he nodded at me to proceed.
"Daegan, the Human as you call her, brought me here and dragged me inside. She helped Isaac hold me down while Ann fixed me up. The pair of them locked us in here and buggered off."
Shock was evident on the faces of both Julius and Bette, who looked as though she was about to cry.
"Wotcha do with t’stiff?"
‘She’s not dead Julius’ I rolled my eyes at him as I continued.
"When I came to, she said she knew what I was and that she’d kicked Isaac in the balls. The bloodlust hit me and I lost it. She demanded I let her out, punched me, broke my nose and left."
I set the sunglasses down beside me and put my head in my hands. Why did women have to be so complicated?
Gray laughed,
"So she kicked Isaac, held you down while your insides got re-organized then broke your nose for biting her?"
"Mmmphh," I moaned into my knees. "She hates me."
"Told you," Bette crowed as she elbowed Gray in the ribs.
"Fair play," he acknowledged.
I looked up, "I didn’t tell you the strangest part." I said staring directly at Bette,
"Her blood... I had this... this flashback... I wasn’t drinking from Daegan, I was drinking from Fext."
Bette’s eyes widened in disbelief,
"Coincidence." She shrugged, but her eyes betrayed her casual tone.
"Can you do a reading from these?" I held the glasses towards her as she shook her head apologetically.
"No Cal."
"But we can take ‘em back to ‘er though, can’t we Betty?" Julius smiled encouragingly.
She nodded, "Gray, are you in?"
"I suppose so. Anyone who busts Isaac’s balls, your nose and is still alive to tell the tale..." He trailed off.
Bette ran to get her cards, leaving a trail of bloody footprints on the stairs as she went. I traipsed down the hallway, to the left of the staircase, past the the sitting-room where Daegan’s crimson track ended towards the immense kitchens below ground.
In a stately home of such an age as this, the servants were kept hidden from the Lords and Ladies until their appearance was deemed necessary. Over the many years we had occupied the Manse, we became accustomed to using only the rooms we required to live and those required to maintain appearances, everything else had fallen into disrepair.
I pushed through a heavy oak door - wider than those of modern standards, to allow immense platters of sweet-meats to be brought up from the bowels of the great kitchens to the gluttonous upper classes. The marble flooring abruptly changed to roughly hewn stone as I descended a flight of crooked steps to the servants quarters.
There were dozens of rooms here, many still containing the mouldering possessions of their occupants, each barely large enough to contain a single iron framed bed and a chest of drawers. Another corridor and a flight of stairs lead to the offside wing and the once Great Hall.
It was truly a dismal sight. I had served here briefly many hundreds of years ago, beginning if memory serves, in the latter part of the 1650’s after ‘mysterious’ deaths befell six of the staff; Ann, Bette, Julius and Gray joined the many kitchen staff, too young to face the light of day.
Isaac who had always been more at home with horses took a position as Driver of the Night Coach whilst I became an Outrider, travelling on horseback at the head of the coach, always alert and ready to defend against the constant and varied dangers which accompanied nightfall.
Dangers which more often than not inevitably became a wholesome banquet for both Isaac and I, whilst the remaining staff below ground fulfilled the others needs, until slowly but surely only the six of us remained.
Shutting out the bustling ghosts of the past, I embarked upon a further flight of stairs, not set within a central staircase, but a narrow corridor leading ever downwards, water trickling slowly down the walls and dripping from the ceiling where it formed tiny stalactites clinging to the stone as it widened before opening into the interminable expanse of the once proud kitchens.
I saw it as it once was, the hustle and bustle, the shouting and cursing as an unfortunate soul touched one of the blazing ovens, the heavy door to the salting room full of hams, cuts of meat and pheasants from the many hunts, all kept cool below ground.
I made my way to one of the butchers sinks adorning the nearside wall, rummaging deep within the cobwebs and dirt until I found what I sought - a bucket, a Tamworth bristle, vinegar, bleach, ‘Granny’s’ soap flakes and soda crystals. I filled a kettle, setting it upon the Aga until it whistled and threw the lot into the bucket along with the water as I harboured a vague concern that it might explode.
As Don Marquis once said ‘Blood will tell, but often it tells too much’ I had to clean the mess I had helped to create. I made my way back upstairs and began to scrub the floor.
Daegan
I rammed the offending meat packaging as far into the bin as I could as nineteen years of vegetarianism filled my mind with pictures of frolicking bunnies, until the image of the bull two fields over invaded my thoughts with its constant ire and unnaturally muscled neck.
I felt less guilty with the likeness of that creature rampaging through my head.
In the distance I could hear an unfamiliar roar through the drumming of the rain. As it grew closer it became more defined, the distinctive din of a powerful two-stroke engine, accompanied by the screaming of a four wheeled vehicle as they rattled over the cattle grid and into the mud.
The roaring ceased abruptly, muffled swearing replacing the sound of the engines followed by the shlopping of feet wading through the sodden mire surrounding my home, growing ever closer.
"She lives here?" I heard.
Bette.
"S’gotta roof an’ shit, s’alright."
Julius.
"Barely."
Bette
"Are you two sure about this? It’s derelict."
Disappointment burned through the anger I felt towards Callan as I realised it wasn’t him accompanying the other two.
"She’s here Gray, shut up for gods sake."
Bette again...
BANG-BANG-BANG
I didn’t want to answer the door, yet I crept towards it grabbing an axe from beside the fireplace, though it was likely to be as much use as that bloody poker.
"Bette? Julius? I swear down if Callan is with you I won’t just break his damn nose this time."
I flung open the door with the axe hoisted over my right shoulder. I relaxed slightly at the sight of Bette and Julius standing under a large umbrella, the third figure however, I did not know.
"Who the hell are you?" My eyes bore into his as I raised the axe above my head, poised to swing.
"Daegan, this is Gray." Bette remained immobile, shifting her eyes towards the figure standing behind both her and Julius.
"He was very impressed by your efforts today."
"I should have left him in the fucking road to die." I spat.
I didn’t mean a word of it. My heart would break if I never saw him again, but he had to know I wouldn’t stand for any of his ‘I need blood’ bullshit.
"We’re bloody glad ya din’t luvvey."
"I suppose you are," I smiled ruefully,
"Do you need an invitation to come in?"
They nodded.
"On the condition that you don’t try to take my blood in any way shape or form, I invite into my home... If you can call it that."
They piled in through the doorway as one, all three of them probably glad to be out of the unrelenting downpour. Bette and Julius I knew of course, but their acquaintance...
"I have been told of todays events, and I must say that I am most intrigued. What could prompt a human girl to save the life of a Vampire? A creature who delights in preying upon your kind." He asked, confusion clouding his features.
"He needed saving," I murmured.
"Please, forgive my impudence," he said in a slightly softer tone as he extended his right hand towards me,
"My name Is Gray Fitch," he announced as I shifted the axe over my left shoulder and took his hand, giving it a firm, assertive shake. "I have known Callan, Julius, Bette, Ann and Isaac for a great many years."
"Daegan Taylor. Callan and I were driving to meet you and the others before... well, before everything else happened." I shrugged my shoulders sheepishly, unsure of what else to say.
"C’mon then love, ya goin’ t’show us about ‘en?"
"There’s nothing to show, I’m still trying to figure out which rooms are safe," I apologized as I headed towards the sitting room, gesturing for them to sit on whichever haphazard piece of furniture they preferred. I set the axe back down beside the fireplace and threw a few more logs into the flames before settling on my heap of blankets.
"Did you know of our kind before today?" Gray’s eyes scanned my face as if he was on the lookout for some sort of crack in my story.
"I suspected after last night," I replied with honesty as Bette pulled my laptop onto her knees, opening the lid to reveal Julius’ past. "Some of the things the three of you said, your reactions and mannerisms, his accent. I tipped my head towards Julius. I searched for you Bette. I thought I was crazy until I saw Julius’ name and the description of his punishment."
Gray seemed satisfied with my honesty and continued his questioning,
"So armed with this knowledge, you still considered associating with us?"
"I don’t know how much you know about me Gray, but I have many flaws. I have never been accepted... Until yesterday. No matter what I read, or what you all are, you showed me friendship and compassion, you helped me when I needed it most."
Images of Callan’s prone form in the road swam into my mind.
"Today... I wasn’t afraid of him, I was afraid for him. He asked me for my blood, he pleaded. I shouldn’t have hesitated."
Julius and Gray both looked astounded.
"All that blood on the floor, that was Cal’s?" Bette asked.
I nodded mutely.
"The control it would take..."
"...For ‘im not t’ kill yer..."
They seemed quite amazed.
"He loves you Daegan, even more so than I thought." Her eyes positively shone at this revelation.
Joy blossomed within me, spreading its warmth through every fibre of my being.
I love him too.
"Tell him I need time."