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Day 6:- Horror/ Vampires
By G. K. Chesterton:
It is something to have wept as we have wept,
It is something to have done as we have done,
It is something to have watched when all men slept,
And seen the stars which never see the sun.
“There was a young vampire called Maple,
whose periods were always quite stable,
at every full moon,
she took out a spoon,
and drank herself under the table.”*
Raven’s breathing, which had been regular up until this point, for a period of three seconds became irregular. In somebody else Damien might have thought that they snorted. But as it was Raven, Damian was pretty sure it was momentarily irregular breathing.
“I don’t see of the problem if a novel begins with description of the weather.” Donna mused.
“Always check the weather before I decide what gear to put on” agreed Cassandra aka Cassie or Donna’s shadow.
Damian ignored them, his focus on their surroundings. Just because there was minimal movement till now doesn’t mean it couldn’t change in an instant. Most Downwolders are nocturnal, most illicit dealings with humans also take place under the cover of night.
The streets stayed sadly deserted, only mice and other cricketers scurrying around garbage, looking for dinner.
Raven’s eyes crinkled, rest of her face straight and she made not a sound.
Conner took a breath, about to spout some more nonsense no doubt, as he crouched by Damian. Raven was across from them with Donna and Cassie to her side. They formed a triangle, with Damian and Conner surveying the north and east, Donna and Cassie taking south and Raven, with her back to Damian, beside Conner, looked to the west.
Damian made a fist, tapping Conner’s shoulder. But the night was silent once more, the sound was a false alarm. Kent was intelligent enough, a good fighter, strategist, but he couldn’t see past his own boredom, to the consequences, the danger he’d put them all and himself in.
The Titans were in a heavily sigiled carriage, with large windows for surveillance, pulled by a team of four horses. The carriage was glamoured as a dilapidated and horses, painted to match draft horses to cover there pure bread ancestry, further glamoured as cows.
Glamour was highly effective in fooling the senses, but it couldn’t fool grass. A good rule of thumb was - As close to the truth and simple as possible. This way no mundane with Sight could finger them.
“Does he have an off switch”, Donna asked no one in particular.
“Maybe you’d find it. You never know until you try“ Kent said, with a new, impish smile, as if he found the prospect amusing.
Raven choked on her laugh and leaned over to knuckle punch Kent.
“Aren’t you supposed to be staking out the Master of the City. Investigating instead of trying to flirt?” Cassie admonished. Did he hear vulnerabilities in her voice. Huh.
“Who says I can’t do both”, Kent replied.
Raven caught my eyes with her’s, humour and comradeship shining threw. Her expression said - can you believe these two.
“Bollocks,” I said using one of Kent’s terms for calling out his foolishness.
“Yeah” Raven agreed with me, putting on a cockney accent. “I’ll bet those spiked knuckleduster you admired” that got Kent’s interest, “that you can’t shut it till….” Raven paused thinking it through.
“A full week of surveillance.” She concluded.
I closed my eyes, for a brief moment, letting her voice, words, and nearness wash over me. I’d never had someone affect me on so.
A part of me loved it, greedily gulped every mystifying sensation. But the logical part said that this would lead to heartbreak. Worse, I knew the logical part was right. It had been over a year and it still hurt. There was a hole in my heart that nothing could fill.
I remembered a night much like this one, Raven became my beloved in truth that night. We’d danced around a while and flirted. I tried to be less obvious in my admiration, trying not to worship this Goddess. Just afford Raven the small, common courtesies.
I’d notice what she liked and tried to have it available for her. But I wanted Raven to want me for me. I saw others try and change themselves, it never ended well.
Raven and I were on the mainland, buying supplies, checking in on informants, our vender, picking up mail and visiting retired families of sighted mundanes that served Shadowhunters.
A half fey approached us and informed Raven of some vampires, young newly turned ones, that’s were draining mundanes dry. Just vagrants who live near the dock she had said.
Damien couldn’t hide his surprise. Downwolder and Shadowhunter cooperation between this institute was astounding. There was a mutual respect. The Fey did not cower before Raven, but solicited her help expecting protection, offering some full powerful fey that worked the docks as back up.
When Damian pushed, why did this Fey woman wish to assist them, what was her motive, with a warm hand on his bicep, Raven soothed him.
The Fey admitted that the community fed the vagrants and some had fey blood, diluted over generations. The kinsmen and women longed for the sea, she called to them, but the blood was too less to survive underwater.
Raven thanked the hunched woman, got general directions and Promised to call on her if they needed back up.
That night, chilly just like tonight, saw Raven and Damian, dressed in squalor swatting by the docks.
The smells of misery were overwhelming. The groans from aches and pains unending. But Damian kept his true feelings far from his face. The whole exchange had him shaken. The half fey woman had patted Raven’s arm, offering her back up. This was insane. Damian could not understand this behaviour. Downwolders offering Nephelim assistance in a Downwolder raid.
“Is there a Political motive?” Damian asked.
“Always.” Answered Raven.
She was right of course. But people were dying and unless they saw the truth for themselves they couldn’t act. And if they saw that it was true, how couldn’t they act?
I was unknown and easily overlooked as a threat, but I hunched further to hide my height, Raven had covered our rags and cloak in ash, soot and mud. And more that Damian couldn’t bare to think about. At Nand Prabhat he was part of an elite team that attached based on intelligence. Very rarely had he been the spy, sitting in a shithole for hours.
The human misery would be unbearable but for Raven. Her very presence affected him. She was pretending to sleep by other women, sheltered by an out cropping from a port warehouse. This way then covered the long street and could hear, with the help of Runes, up two streets where the homeless congregated.
Fog rolled of the water, calm for the most part, ships came in during daylight hours to avoid accidents. Heavy footsteps echoed through the passageway. A startled cry periled the still night. Men filed into the area. Hands grabbed me and hauled me up, strong like iron shackles. I hung limp.
The street I was taken to was deserted, the journey a blur. Vampires. Raven was there, pretending to be scared. Other people were crying and some had already been persuade into submission. Some were staring into the vampires eyes, their expression dazed and confused.
I staggered, backing away slowly, searching my rags as if looking for a holy object. Raven loved fast change, we’d gone up to the mainland Capitol to catch a show. After that it had spread like wild fire around the Institute’s younger crowd. Raven had helped her younger cousin put on a similar show while Damian assisted. One tug would see him in his gear, the rags no longer a hinderance. But the timing had to be perfect.
There’d been two vamps between him and Raven. One more at the far mesmerising or trying to. So green the female vamp could only get the human to stare at her. Nothing more.
The green vamp lost the battle with mind control and went straight for the neck. The victim’s neck lolled to the side, eyes staring blankly into the distance. And time for surveillance was up.
Behind him Raven began to draw attention to herself. The vamp closest to her, a short man with a receding hairline moved, a blur, smacked Raven up top her head and giggled. Raven went limp, took the hit and, flew a few feet, crumpled on the pavement and groaned. That was his cue.
I plowed into the approaching Vamp hard enough to shatter bones, if he were human. Stunned he lay sprawled below me, a blow to the head followed by a quick twist of my wrist and it was bye bye vamp.
To my surprise, the other vamp didn’t notice, still drinking blood in deep gulps. Instead, Raven’s vamp turned mid approach, with a strength she should never have had Raven struck, her blade protruded through the Vampire’s back as he crumbled around her blessed blade.
I hit the last vamp with a throwing knife. To get her attention and stop her from finishing off the poor, gaunt human. It priced her back and the last vamp whirled towards us.
I lunged toward Raven, but she was already reaching for me. The vamp had been going for her, but had changed direction mid leap. I was closer to the vamp than Raven, and the vamp used my momentary distraction and I’d misjudged.
Raven’s look of horror was my last memory, and then pain and darkness.
When I came to, my neck was savaged and the vamp was lying dismembered, body parts scattered around me. Raven and cut her up so fast the vamp had time to only bit me. Some of her vampiric venom burned my blood.
I turned my head to see blood everywhere, more than there should be outside a body. The other vagrants fled, a few that’d been mesmerised stayed, painted with the vamps blood.
Smelling the blood fey had come upon them. Sniffing the air, taking in the scents. A tall male apprehend Raven. The other circled the carnage.
The stump that was the last vamp laughed, “he’ll turn! Join our ranks” she whispered with her last breath. She means me thought Damian. The male, the tall fey, blue black haired one reached Raven.
Raven’s face was a mask of fury. I’d hesitate to approach her. But the fey male said “he still has time. Garth get a holy man and water. Hurry!”
“Raven”’ Damian called to her. She was worried for him. Their kills had been efficient, up until He’d been hurt and Raven had gone berserker, if the blood and viscera were any indication.
That night Raven had pushed tons of holy water down my body and throat. She’d cleaned my wounds, drawing venom out my body with her magic. That night I didn’t ask to many questions, though they swirled in my mind mixed with delirium and pain.
Come morning, I awoke to Raven watching the sunrise. I was hit by déjà vu so strong I must’ve emoted out loud, because Raven turned and looked at me.
Relief flooded her pretty face, devastating my heart. The worry that night had been for me, the relief was because I was well. I’d nearly fallen of the cot in my hast to reach Raven. I’d needed to wipe the worry lines and reassure her.
Raven lunged and caught me before I fell. Then suddenly we on the cot, Raven above me, long matter hair ticked my chin.
Looking into my eyes Raven lowered her face to mine, so slow I thought I’d die from the wait. She kissed me so hard, all the feelings I’d failed to suppress transformed into desire. I kissed back while a new frenzy of emotions exploded inside me.
I hadn’t care if it was stupid or too soon or dangerous or would leave me heartbroken. I needed her like I’d never needed anything before. I’d survived. And Raven clearly felt something.
Her’s couldn’t have matched my feelings for her, I’d thought. I’d been so wrong then. I was wrong now. No matter the danger Raven deserved the truth of us, if she desired it.
My mother used to say that family, blood or found, was our salvation. It was the net that caught us when we drowned and gently lifted us up out of the raging waters. She was wise, my mother.***
Looking to Raven failing to stop herself and laughing with Donna and Cassie, while Kent pretended to be put out. I felt hopeful.
The stars were brighter, the night less bleak and monotonous.