It was now brighter outside. The chapel did not look so menacing, as it
did at night, but appeared shadowed by the Sun; making it more
inviting. Rowan was about to open the door when everyone else stopped.
“Stay here,” Kiyor ordered the bodyguards casually.
It was then that Rowan opened the door. Lord
Winguard had his back turned towards the entrance on the other side,
inside. He quickly hid behind his cloak as the orange light filled the
hall.
“Whoever visits at this late hour can you
please block the light?” demanded the Vampire swiftly. Lona
quickly closed the door. It was once more dark inside, with the torches
in the middle as the only light source. Winguard regarded his visitors
and smiled pleasantly. “Rowan. It’s good to see you.”
He walked towards his visitors. “I want to thank you highly for
killing Saraias, it pleases the Vampire Council greatly and-” he
laughed “-burning her by tricking her into drinking Holy Water
was ingenious.”
“I did not come here seeking gratitude, merely
information,” was all that Rowan said, in such a factual manner.
Surprise appeared on the Vampire’s face. “But first, I want
the price settled.”
“Hm, a wise decision young diplomat,”
mused Winguard. “I require feeding. A few swallows from each of
you and the 9 outside will suffice. You will be hypnotised as I do
this; you will not remember a thing. Are we in agreement?”
Rowan turned around. “I believe we are.”
Niss shrugged. “I guess so.” She was clearly apprehensive.
“Good,” confirmed Winguard. Rowan faced him again. “What information do you seek?”
Rowan put forward her demands. “We ask for two
things. We would like to know all the information about the body that
fell behind me last week. We would also like to know who Tanus
is.”
“That isn’t too hard,” accepted
Winguard. “I will have them investigated while you rest.”
Eyes were watching from the shadows; many pairs of
them; all cat’s eyes. Blood red, sharp purple, cold blue, shining
white and bright gold. Noticing these eyes, the Vilkons recoiled in
fear. Miss Kirilian searched the eyes curiously.
“Demons!” hissed Korat with fear.
“Yes, they are mine,” explained
Winguard. “They may be the scourge of the Dark Kingdom but these
creatures are harmless unless I say so.”
The Demons escaped the shadows and revealed
themselves. They were either athletic, scrawny or lean. There were
males, females and some who you could not distinguish. Not all of them
stood to walk, for some trailed on the ground. A few had tails, long or
short. Some had hair, some didn’t. A few had chains hanging
around them, even embedded into their skin. Most wore rags for
censorship, but others had no genitalia to hide.
“Why don’t you show the others
in?” ordered Winguard. The Demons moved. “Rish, Kaka, show
these people along.” He turned, walked through a dark doorway and
went down the steps behind it. A Demon appeared on either side. One was
male, with light grey skin, charcoal-coloured short hair and black
lips. The other was female, with sickly-green skin and greasy, long
aquatic-blue hair. They were both athletic, wore black rags and dared
the humans to run away with their ice-blue eyes.
Rowan boldly walked forward and walked through the
doorway, followed by the others. The chamber was once again flooded
with orange light as the bodyguards were brought in from outside.
Winguard waited for them at the bottom of the
stairs. Behind him was another dark doorway, with torches lit on either
side. He surveyed the people lining along the stairs, focussing on
Manar for a short while then wandering around. “Who will come
first?” he asked without anticipation.
Everyone hesitated. Siren tentatively moved away
from her spot and walked down the stairs, slowly. She could not hide
her fear. She forced herself to take one step each second. Time seemed
to slow. Of all the eyes fixed on her, she could only register the
stony eyes of the Vampire. He did not show remorse, he did not show
empathy. For him, this was necessary. Nothing could be heard. Dread was
sensed.
When Siren was close enough, Winguard reached out
and gripped her. She stopped. She briefly thought that there was a
chance to escape. She wasn’t forced to move towards him, so she
stepped forward at will. The Vampire led his meal through the door.
Time did not return to normal. Fear continued to
thicken. Eyes were fixed on the dreaded doorway. Hawk grew more
agitated. He suddenly rushed down the stairs, through the door, no one
dared to stop him. The sight he beheld froze him. He stood as a statue.
His sister fell limply in Winguard’s arms. Her
eyes, so blank, they registered nothing. The fangs of the Vampire
extended. He bit through Siren’s beautiful, strong skin. He
sipped the blood as if sipping from a sweet fruit. The sight was
sensual, almost tender. He was careful not to indulge. Slowly,
reluctantly, the Vampire drew back. A trickle of blood attempting to
escape ran down her neck. He licked it off. Lacking resistance, Siren
was gently laid on the floor.
Lord Winguard looked up…and Hawk’s
breathing stopped. The Vampire’s eyes kept the human fixed where
he was, unable to move, no matter how much fear he emanated.
Hawk’s groans echoed in the stairwell outside;
from strength, becoming weak, then surrendering with a sigh. This only
intensified the fear.
A Demon who appeared young groped along the floor with her hands and
feet. She never stood up and many might think her to be 12 or 13 years
old. Her tied back long hair, rags and skin were all the same dark
violet, although quite blemished. Her rags seemed attached to her skin.
She crawled around or knelt between the concrete boxes of ancient
tombs, each covered by a dirty cloth. Her golden eyes were mystified by
each of the sleeping humans.
“Vivor! Get off him!” snapped Winguard.
A tall Demon, with a tall tail to match, snapped
round at her Master, staring at him fiercely with her golden eyes of a
Lion, ringed by red. Her skin was perfectly red, though she had no
hair, which revealed her pointed ears. Her lips were black and black
marks shaped her eyes, making them seem narrow and pointed. She had no
rags.
“They trust us to do their bidding and then
you decide to have sexual play with- out him realising it!”
Winguard was lecturing her with a hard voice. “You should not
risk breaking the trust like that! If you have any shame, you will get
off him now!” Vivor snarled, revealing her pointed teeth and
forked tongue. She angrily climbed off of Hawk. “And do up his
garments! … Anything the matter Cazireese?” (Ka-zeer-reese)
The small Demon looked up at her Master, coming
towards her. “They are not dead?” She was quite
high-pitched, but sounded both airy and guttural, perhaps sounding like
a Snake without the hisses.
The Vampire shook his head. “No. They are
asleep. They are very much alive because their hearts beat and they
breathe.”
Cazireese scuttled to where Kiyor slept. “But they sometimes move Master.”
“That is because they are dreaming. When they sleep, they have no control of their bodies.”
“What is dreaming?”
“That is an ancient mystery. It seems that
when a human dreams, they are in another plane. What they experience is
often their memories or familiar surroundings. But there are times when
their dreams carry a prophecy.”
“How do they know when that happens?”
“I do not know young one. But often, they just seem to know.”
She scuttled to where Kirrinis slept. “Their markings are fading!”
“That is because their markings are temporary.
Humans wear a type of paint and put it on again every day. They do this
to enhance their beauty.”
“Some Vampire Ladies do it too.”
“Yes, they do,” acknowledged Winguard.
The small Demon scuttled to Kiyor and knelt behind
his head. She straightened and stroked his scars. “These marks
don’t fade.”
“They cannot. At some point in his life, his
skin was broken and could never be repaired; so those scars remain,
even after death.”
She sat back. “Why do they need sleep Master?”
He gently smiled. “They sleep so that their bodies can rest after using so much energy.”
A thump could be heard above. A genderless Demon growled.
“Once again, a small child drops their
ball,” murmured Winguard. “No matter how hard they try, the
tenders cannot stop tourist’s children from threatening
vandalism.”
“Perhaps they will try harder if they knew we hid down here during the day.”
The Vampire sighed. “The idea seems sound
but…can you recall the fear of the humans when they first laid
eyes on your kind?” The little Demon nodded. “Well the
Light Citizens are ten times worse.”
“What about Elves?” she asked.
“I would not know; I have never met one.”
“So we have to stay secret,” she concluded. She scuttled off again.
“Secrets are often kept for good
reason,” Winguard explained. He looked down at Kiyor. “When
I first met him, he did not wish for his name to be revealed. While
drink-ing his blood, I had the short telepathic link with him that
allowed me to find out he is a Vilkon. If I were one, I would not brag
about it either.”
Cazireese clasped on the edge of the tomb that Manar slept on. “She hides well.”
“Her name is Manira,” he revealed.
“We had a short chat beforehand and she told me she did not want
her fame to be revealed. I suppose that would be vital for someone not
yet 25. But Rowan…” Winguard looked at the sleeping form
of Rowan. “She is just 21 years old but keeps a much darker
secret; quite tragic for someone so young. Though I suspect that even
she does not know what it is.”