The expansive gardens of the estate itself were overgrown after years of neglect, and the land had officially been abandoned decades ago. Sitting right in the middle of it all, the large building that made up the majority of the manor seemed to almost double in size as the carriage made its approach. The cracked windows looked as though they were ready to pop out of their crooked frames, and sat adjacent to a giant wooden door that had long faded and lost its elegance to the decay of time. Peeling paint hung loosely from the shingled walls as they suffered from the harsh change of seasons, the pounding rain from the storm that had only just passed, and a severe lack of maintenance. Even the green patina of the copper drainpipes and gutters had been overrun by moss, vines and enough weeds to kill off any sense of awe that must have come from seeing the manor back in its heyday.
As the carriage pulled up next to the weathered stone steps of the main entrance, the horses came to a halt. One of the animals whinnied and another neighed in slight defiance as the driver barked his commands. A moment or two later and the man hopped off his perch with his whip coiled in hand, worn boots splashing in a particularly deep puddle. He cursed loudly before moving to open up the door to let out his only passenger, the rusted hinges crying out in desperate need of oiling.
“Are yer sure this is the place, m’lady?” The gruff man said as he pulled off his beaten flat cap in order to run calloused fingers through his greasy hair. He half smiled through yellow teeth as he spoke, eyeing up with suspicion the woman who had paid him so handsomely.
Katherine nodded her head politely. “Yes, I am quite sure. This is Grange Manor, is it not?”
The carriage driver stopped to rub the whiskers of his thick grey mutton chops before replying. “Aye, 'tis.”
A few seconds of silence followed, wind whistling through the trees as the pair stared at each other. The man blinked a couple of times and coughed up a handful of phlegm, that he deftly caught before wiping it on the rain drenched tweed of his undersized suit. His large hairy belly almost poked out from between the buttons of his stained undershirt, the bare skin tanned to a leather finish.
Katherine was clearly disgusted, but forced a smile regardless. She was careful not to crack the layers of carefully applied makeup that acted as a mask to hide her true self; rouge to give her pale skin the fake blush of life, and all manner of other powders, oils and techniques to accentuate her lips, impeccable bone structure and the colour of her hazel eyes.
Another moment passed before the aging man extended the same hand that he had coughed on, his arm outstretched as he tried to help Katherine from her seat. Fighting back her revulsion, she declined the offer, instead deciding to display her independence as she stood up from the torn fabric of her chair and stepped out onto the solid, but rough ground beyond. It was awkward for her at first, as her delicate high heeled boots weren't exactly designed for stability on uneven surfaces, but she soon managed to compensate.
The driver grumbled, slamming the carriage door shut with force as if he didn't know the true strength of his trunk like arms. He placed his ill fitting hat back onto his head and tipped it to Katherine in a vague attempt at playing the gentleman. Slightly annoyed by the continued silence, the man furrowed his brow, cleared his throat and spoke once more, his breath rife with the pungent odor of old tobacco and cheap whiskey. “This is no place ferra lady of yer standin’... I wouldn't feel comf’table leavin’ yer ‘ere alone.”
Katherine waved her hand dismissively, not wanting to bother herself with such trivial matters anymore. “I assure you, I am perfectly fine. You may depart.”
She couldn't stand socialising with the man any longer and wanted to be left alone. His unpleasant musk overpowered her enhanced senses and it was enough to make her glad that she had already fed before leaving town. Katherine could sense the bitter blood flowing through the throbbing veins just beneath the surface of his tanned skin; skin that had seen almost as many days as she had nights. She couldn't imagine ever being hungry enough to sink her teeth into his flesh, the points of her fangs piercing through his tough exterior. Just the thought of the act itself made her cringe. No matter how low she had sunk in her unlife, Katherine still liked to believe that she had standards.
The disgusting man shifted his weight and snorted. “G’night then…” He cracked his knuckles and hobbled back to the ladder that led up to his seat, which was a struggle to climb for someone of his large stature, but he managed to make it up after some effort.
Positioning himself above the four brown horses, the driver slammed his heavy backside down upon the bench. The poor creatures were still weary from the crack of his whip and weren't at all ready to be beaten back into motion, each of them sounding their protest as they started off back down the hill.
Stopping to watch them leave, Katherine forced a sigh. She wanted to make sure that she was alone before she dared to approach the manor. As soon as the horses, their driver and the old carriage were out of sight, hooves clomping and sloshing through the mud of the road below, she turned to face the entrance. Standing there for a minute or two, she worked on building up the courage to knock on the door that now appeared to tower over her menacingly.
Taking some much needed time to gather her thoughts, Katherine had to remind herself of her reasons for travelling to this God forsaken place. She was tired, but not from the journey or from her many years of existence, rather she was tired of being controlled by other people. In life she had pandered to the needs of men who forced themselves upon her in exchange for coin. Sure, their filthy money had made her wealthy for a time, but she could never regain what they had taken from her. That which she had lost far outweighed anything that she had gained in return.
Sickness and disease had ultimately spelled Katherine's demise, until she was rescued from death's clutches by a mysterious gentleman. Thanks to his gifts, she was reborn as a creature of the night and given a somewhat cleaner slate to begin anew. With that new existence, she had also been granted the power and strength to fight for her survival. Mortal men were beneath her now, but even as a vampire she found that others still had control over her and she hated that more than anything.
The elder vampires, ones far older than Katherine, weighed her down with self-serving laws that were designed to leave the relatively inexperienced such as herself downtrodden. She despised them more than anyone that she had known in life, as they had played the same cruel games for centuries and had got away with it for just as long. Katherine knew that there was no chance of them ever changing their ways or treating her differently than they had over the past few decades, so she decided instead to change herself. She had to expand her reach, become smarter than all of them and beat the dusty old corpses at their own game.
The Gentleman, the self titled vampire who had given Katherine new life, had promised so much, but like so many men before him he had failed to deliver. His promises, like all others, were empty shells with no substance. He hadn't shown her a brand new world at all, a shining spectacle full of hope and dreams re-imagined. Instead, he gave Katherine new eyes to look upon the same old corrupt rock, crammed to the brim with mindless drones that only sought to serve themselves.
In the end, all the Gentleman managed to teach Katherine was that the only person that she could truly rely on was herself. It was no wonder that their relationship, like all others before, had terminated with violence and bitter disappointment. Thankfully he was long gone and wouldn't be returning, whereas she was doomed to continue her lonely existence for all eternity.
There was one other time since when Katherine believed that she had found others who shared a similar outlook and goals. People who she at one time called her peers; friends even. They were like minded individuals who had grouped together during their final days within the Acadian colonies. Renita, Louis, Phillipe, Vincent and Antoinette. They had provided comfort and security at first, as sheltering in numbers usually did, but after some time it became clear that they all followed Renita with blin
d loyalty.
Katherine on the other hand often clashed with the woman, both of them holding differing opinions on all but the most trivial of matters. The pair were polar opposites and their strained relationship had ended as quickly as it began. It was probably for the best, as cowering amongst other vampires only served to make one weak and Katherine knew that she would be stronger on her own. She could choose her own path and make her own choices. Let the blind lead the blind, her own eyes had been opened.
Since that time, Katherine had journeyed alone across the continent for many years, from the early colonies down to New Orleans, back up to New England and beyond. In her travels she had heard rumours of an outcast, a man who went by the name of Alexander. He was an elder vampire with abilities that others deemed heretical to their beliefs and immortal existence as a whole. Her curiosity taking over, Katherine began to believe that this supposed outcast could be someone just like her. Perhaps she could learn from them; or maybe, just maybe, she could rip their power from their cold dead hands and then she would never have to depend on anyone else ever again.
Despite her independence, Katherine knew that there was one other person in all the world that she could call on in a time of need. Shani, the Gentleman's one time servant, who had become her one and only friend. The woman was someone who understood loyalty, but was never one for conversation. She was the silent companion; the exotic assassin and stoic guardian. However, Shani’s own destiny and the dangerous path that she walked meant that they too had parted ways some time ago. Although reliable, calling on the assassin was like calling on death itself. Whenever and wherever she was present, the outcome was inevitable. Someone was bound to die.
All the events that Katherine had witnessed, all the hardships that she had endured throughout her life, even her own death and nearly half a century of experiences since, had stoked the fires of change. The intense heat from those flames had forged her into a stronger woman than she had ever thought possible. Yet despite this newfound strength, she believed that she had not yet reached her full potential. There was still so much more to learn, her only problem being that she had to find those ready and willing to teach her.
Katherine felt confined by the tight collar that squeezed her throat and the silver brooch that kept it locked in place. Tugging at the clasp to loosen it a little, she began to climb the steps to the rotting door that blocked her path. Her movement was restricted by her choice in high fashion, having to lift up the front of her skirt to make her ascent. Multiple layers of fabric gave the dress depth, with the finest of green velvet, white lace and silk undergarments. It was impressive how they could take such luxurious materials and turn them into torture devices that would have worked wonders within the dank dungeons of the Dark Ages.
Katherine was thankful that she didn't need to breathe, as she was sure that her overly tightened corset would have made that all but impossible. Her long sleeves, with their frilled cuffs and exquisite design, felt more like shackles than a decorative piece. In fact, the entire outfit was a cloth prison that gave away nothing and left everything to the imagination.
Katherine hated wearing dresses, but expensive ones such as this particular number that had been imported straight from Europe, gave her a power over both men and women alike; and if there was something that Katherine loved, it was power. More than anything, she loved to have control over other people and hated being controlled herself. That was her true reason for coming to this dreadful place, and she had to keep reminding herself of the fact.
With mixed emotions swirling around in her head, it was Katherine's sheer will and determination that won the battle over her fear, allowing her to knock on the door with gusto while a voice in the back of her mind screamed at her to run. That voice was ultimately drowned out by a tenacity that refused to let her turn around and flee. Her destiny lay somewhere within the condemned building and so she wouldn't give up. Not until she had got what she came for.
Of course no answer came, the old house supposedly abandoned long ago. All Katherine could hear was the sound of the building straining under its own weight, barely audible over the continued rustling of leaves in the wind. Feeling increasingly impatient, she pushed the door, causing it to slowly open with a horrific screech that caught her off guard and made her flinch. The lock, it seemed, had completely rusted to a point where it was surprising that the door had remained closed at all.
As dark as it was outside, the interior was darker still, making it difficult for Katherine's eyes to adjust. Something was definitely off, as her vision normally corrected itself in seconds and allowed her to see in low levels of light almost instantly. However, that wasn't the case this time around, and so she paused at the threshold, considering her options once more. She could proceed into the blackness to face whatever was waiting for her, or she could quit while she still had the chance. It wasn't too late to turn around and leave, not yet.
After taking the time to mull things over, Katherine decided that she would be able to see clearly given time and that her partial blindness was only temporary; it really wasn't anything to worry herself over. Before she had another moment to second guess herself, she found that she was already taking the final step into the unknown. There would be no turning back after all.
Standing in a darkness that refused to fade, Katherine was puzzled by her environment, believing that it had been altered by some unseen supernatural force. Something there had control of the very shadows themselves and could manipulate them at will. Although the windows weren't boarded up and there were no curtains so to speak, no light entered from outside. There were no moonbeams to permeate the blackness and even the doorway itself refused to let anything enter, save for Katherine herself.
More determined than ever to see things through and convinced that she was still heading in the right direction, Katherine bravely closed the door behind her. After all, she hadn't been born in a barn and it was considered rude for a guest to leave the door to a home open, even an unexpected guest such as herself. She had no intention of upsetting her would be host, even if she had come without an invitation.
Surprisingly, as soon as the door had noisily nestled back into its frame, the room began to brighten. However, there were no sources of light so to speak, just an unnatural glow that filled the immediate area. The entryway was completely bare, with no furniture, potted plants or any other decorations as far as the eye could see. The bowed, hardwood floor was free of any rugs or carpeting, but was strangely parted by light right down the middle.
The illuminated path appeared as though it led to a small hatch at the base of the grand stairwell, the hatch itself appearing fairly new and intricate in design. From what Katherine could see, it was secured shut with various locks and reinforced with what looked like brass railings. She wondered what was behind the closed door and why it was so important. Was it a safe or a closet perhaps? Or maybe it was just the way down to the basement.
All the other rooms in the place were left in darkness, as if to show that they weren't of importance, with even the staircase beyond hard to see. It made it difficult to determine the exact size of the building’s interior, but Katherine suspected that the manor was fairly modest in size, at least compared to some of the larger homes that she had visited in recent years.
As if the lighting wasn't eerie enough, the very walls began to speak with the unrecognisable foreign accent of a man who was far from local in origin. “Do not deviate from this path. You will not wish to face the consequences should you stray from it.”
Katherine’s eyes darted around the room, unable to see much else other than the door and the odd glow of the floorboards leading up to it. The voice didn't appear to be coming from a single location, but was instead surrounding her on all sides. It was as if the manor itself was alive and speaking to her.
Before she could even form an answer, the ancient voice spoke again, but this time with some urgency. “Move quickly, child. A moment of hesitation could cost you every
thing.”
Without a second thought, Katherine began to head carefully across the bare wooden floor, the nail ridden boards creaking with each step. As she grew nearer, it became more and more apparent as to how much care had gone into the hatch’s construction. Intricate engravings of runes adorned the panels that formed rows in between the metal bars, with a bright polished handle forged in the shape of a coiled serpent baring its fangs.
Stopping just shy of the barred entryway, Katherine could see the series of locks that secured it in place, but she somehow sensed that none of them were currently in use. Her hand wrapped around the handle and twisted it until she heard a click that let he know that her feelings had indeed been right. As soon as she pulled the hatch open, the light behind her began to fade, lending a certain sense of urgency to the situation as the path rapidly dwindled in size.
Panicked by the encroaching shadows, Katherine swung the hatch the rest of the way open and leapt through, only just catching herself against a handrail that stopped her from plummeting down the hidden steps on the other side. She fought to regain her balance, just about managing to recover as the entrance slammed shut behind her, snuffing out the last of the light. All that was left was the pitch black of darkness and the sound of a slow beating drum, its rhythm steady and constant. Someone or something else was down there with her, and she prayed to anyone that would listen that it was the one that she sought.
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