shadows and stones - an original fiction series of gothic, horror, dark fantasy

Midnight. Again. Somehow, I managed to escape into my bedroom a few hours ago. Alone, I came to a decision; it’s time to give up the search for Iain’s ashes and try something else. Now is as good a time as any for what I’m planning to do – there’s no point in delaying. Slipping off the bed, I dress in old jeans and a tee shirt. Barefoot, I move quietly on the carpeted floor. Partway through the sitting room, I pause. To my relief, Iain has finally fallen silent; exhausted, no doubt, from screaming at me for hours.

“I’m doing this for you, Iain,” I whisper. He can’t hear me, but the words reaffirm my purpose, giving me strength to continue.

I move from my rooms into the hallway. A drift scent warns me of her presence a moment before Melanie melts out of the shadows to confronts me. Surprise stops me cold. At this late hour she should be long gone at home with her husband. Something must be wrong to keep her here.

“What have you been doing?” Anger and contempt in her voice snap me out of my surprise. She must have decided to spy on me for Rath. Well, I have no intention of humoring her.

“None of your business,” I try to move past, but she’s like a marble slab in my path.

“He has been feeling your tantrums all evening.” My stomach drops. I’d forgotten Rath might sense my emotions as he has in the past when they have been strong.

“Does he know why?” I ask without thinking. Melanie’s right palm strikes me hard on the face. Shocked, I stagger a bit from the blow, but don’t fall.

“Selfish animal. He should have never brought you here. You are nothing but a torment to him.”

Before I can respond, Melanie rushes away down the hall, far faster than I imagined she could move. I remain motionless while she disappears into the far wing. Is she right, then? Am I really being selfish? No. I’m doing this for Iain, to give him back his life. If Rath senses when I get upset, so be it. If I could stop it from happening, I would gladly do so.

“It’s not my fault,” I shout. Easy to say, I wish believing were as simple.

I don’t have time for this now. Shaping into a sparrow, I fly down to Rath’s office. There I reshape my human form. Listening with the ears and scenting with the smell of a feline, I can tell he’s not inside nor has he been in the last several hours.

Quickly, I slip inside the office. I don’t bother with a flashlight as I move down into the cellar room where Rath stores his collection of heads; darkness is better for what I’ve planned. I don’t need assistance to find the container I want – the scent of its occupant is strong in the air. Roughly, I drop the box onto the sarcophagus, popping the latch open with a tug on the thread latch. Simon, the vampire, glares at me in the darkness.

“Well, if it isn’t the precious baby sister. Tired of the little Scots boy yet?”

“I have a question for you.”

“For me? Now there is a change. What arcane knowledge shall I impart to you, little girl? Secrets about your bastard brother? Or do you long to know how it would feel if I were to sink my teeth into your beautifully unmarred neck? Come closer. I’ll let you find out firsthand.”

Swallowing hard, I control the revulsion Simon’s oily voice brings up in me. The vampire enjoys verbally tormenting me: revenge, no doubt, for the torture Rath inflicts on him. His torrent of filth is one of the reasons I dislike being in this cellar room. Eager to end this confrontation, I ignore his comments.

“Tell me how to bring a vampire back if you have his head but not his body.”

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on resurrecting that worthless excrescence your brother tore apart. I don’t understand why he didn’t cook the little piece of shit over an open flame when he had the chance. Did he believe I cared about a sniveling worm like that? Or did you beg for your pretty toy’s life?

“The Scots boy isn’t worth your time, child, there is nothing he can give you. I could reward you in ways you can’t begin to imagine.” I struggle not to look into Simon’s eyes. Rath warned me once that doing so gives a vampire power. With Simon, I can well believe it.

“Just answer,” I cut him off, letting him know I don’t intend to play verbal games.

“Find the body.”

“And if I can’t?”

At first, he doesn’t answer. I can tell he’s calculating what to say, or perhaps coming up with something he wants in exchange for the knowledge. My lungs ache. I realize I’ve been holding my breath. Carefully, I exhale and inhale again. Still, Simon doesn’t answer. Does he expect me to beg?

“Very well then, little girl.” I hold my breath again, in disbelief. Will he tell me so easily? “

I’ll tell you how to bring your little boy back.” An ugly smile twists the vampires face.

“Take your Scottish boy’s mouth and open it. Place his teeth against the skin of one of your perfectly formed little breasts and tell him to bite down hard.”

I exhale in anger. I should have known he would never tell me. “Shut up, you worthless bastard.”

“Let him drink deeply from you, girl. Let him suck your virginal blood out through the very tips of your breast, through the pores of your skin, and the nipple itself. Let him drink and drink until your body rocks and explodes with the most powerful orgasm you will ever know.”

“I told you to shut up!” I shout, reaching to close the box once more.

“You are a virgin, aren’t you girl? The smell of it clings to your skin like the perfume of an uncrushed rose. Your blood will be like wine to him, girl. Your first time suckling him will ruin you for physical sex for the rest of your life.” He laughs at my stunned silence.

“SHUT UP!” I’m not a prude, despite being Catholic, but I can’t stand to hear his voice, dripping as it is with layers of filth. Instead of closing the box, I grab Simon’s head by the hair. His laughter turns to a shout as I swing him in the air above my head, then throw him, with all of my strength, against the far wall. Bone cracks when he strikes the stones.

Simon isn’t dead; I don’t even worry about having killed him. A few broken bones are nothing to a vampire. From where he landed on the floor his voice rises, no longer oily, but poisonous and sharp.

“You little bitch.”

“Go to hell.” Grabbing him by the hair again, I thrust him back into the box. I don’t bother to see how I’ve hurt him; I really don’t care.

“I’m already in hell, you stupid whore, and when I am free I’ll give you ample examples of what it has been like.”

There aren’t words to tell him how I feel about his threat, so I don’t bother. Putting the box back together and sealing it shut, I thrust it hard onto the shelf where it belongs. I should have known better than to have hoped Simon would help me.

Since it’s obvious Rath knows I’ve been snooping around, I don’t bother trying to hide my actions in the cellar. I couldn’t remove my scent from the box or from Simon’s head anyway. Let Rath wonder what I was doing handling his pet vampire. If he really wants to know, he can ask me. For now I’m disgusted with myself and my stupidity; I just want to be alone.

Once more in my room, I curl up in my bed, Roybear crushed in my arms. What am I going to do? Should I give Iain the death he is asking me for, or continue trying to save him in spite of himself? The last words he called to me are still echoing in my head. Who am I doing this for?

My eyes fall on my journal lying on the stand beside the bed. Everything that has happened to me since I first came to England is written inside; all the conversations and experiences of the past year. Setting Roybear aside, I take the book and prop myself up to read. Maybe just turning my mind off of all the problems for a while will help me to find the solution.

I start reading the conversation I’d had with Iain after I moved into the house. He’d been stored in the cellar for several months by then. I’d been so desperate, at the time, for another human being who might understand my pain, and he had been the perfect discovery. There was kinship in the mess fate had made of both of our lives.

Next, I find the entry about my resolution to separate Iain from Simon – I’d been so sure Rath would be angry at me, yet he never said a thing. It was a relief not to have that venom spewing bastard, Simon, interrupting us all the time when we tried to speak. I think it really helped Iain at the time to know he wasn’t just another piece of my brother’s collection – helped to hold off madness.

As the night moves on, I skip from one entry about Iain to another. Our subsequent conversations had become more and more frequent. Topics ranged from my attempts to explain hockey to his attempt to convince me rugby was the same thing, only on grass. Laughing, I reread the time I described a Halloween party back home, when my friends had dared one another to sneak into Fairmount Cemetery at midnight. I, the girl who has since had conversations with vampires and ghosts, was too scared to do it and went home instead. Lucky too, since my friends were caught by security and had to do yard work at the cemetery for a month or face trespassing charges. Then Iain had taken his turn, telling me….

I almost drop my journal in shock. Quickly I flick on the bedside lamp so I can be sure I’m reading the words correctly. “Oh, my God,” I whisper. Last October Iain had told me about how he’d found the lair of the vampires–and exactly where it lay. The directions are so precise I follow them on a map I pulled out of my backpack. I reread his story, thanking God once more that I wrote down every detail. It’s all there, how to locate the entrance, how to move the stone above the doorway, even the name of their current leader: Romany.

With a few steps I reach the window, pulling open the drapes. Outside the sky is still dark, but I can detect the first pink shades of dawn along the horizon. Too late to visit the vampires now, but as soon as possible I will go their lair. My stomach clenches at the thought. I’m afraid of them, but I will go.

I hate to admit it, but the vampires are my only remaining hope.

Return to part ii: supplication
Continue to part iv: trespass

episode i: journey into darkness - episode ii: tea party - episode iii: awakening
episode iv: the book of grief - episode v: paterfamilias - episode vi: breaking points
episode vii: the dark of the mind - episode viii: decisions
episode ix: momentary distractions - episode x: exorcising demons i
episode xi: porcelain visions - episode xii: the nature of jackals
episode xiii: exorcising demons ii - episode xiv: the invitation
episode xv: body & soul - episode xvi: mothering sunday
episode xvii: imbalance of power - episode xviii: interlude
episode xix: between life and death

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