by Amy Cross
Chapter Six
"Kate!" Mike shouted, coming to a halt in the hallway as he saw Kate standing over by the door. "What are you doing?"
With her back to him, Kate was staring out at the mountains. It was almost as if she was looking for someone, waiting for someone to appear from the wilderness. Slowly, she turned and looked at Mike, and there was a curious smile on her lips.
"I was looking for you," he stammered. "I found something. Through in the next room, a painting, you..." He paused as he realized that there was something strange about the way Kate was watching him, as if she was amused by his words. It was definitely her, but something had changed.
"It's okay," she said softly. "Don't worry."
"You have to see this," he continued. "I know this is going to sound crazy, Kate, but there's a painting, and it took me a moment to realize what I was looking at, but it's... It's like..." He paused, fearing that the words would sound insane as soon as they left his mouth. "You have to see for yourself," he said eventually. "This painting, this woman, her name's Madeleine LeCompte, but when you see the likeness..."
"I already know the painting well enough," Kate said, stepping toward him. "I've looked at it a thousand times over the years. I even remember posing for it."
"No," Mike continued, taking a step back, "you don't understand. This is one of the LeCompte family portraits. It's from the sixteenth or seventeenth century, and this Madeleine LeCompte woman looks exactly like you. It's not just a passing resemblance, Kate. She looks exactly like you, like a spitting image."
"I know," Kate said, still sounding strangely calm, and with the smile on her lips growing by the second. "The man who painted my portrait was a local artist. My father forced him to come up here and paint both my brother and myself, and then he had the man's throat slit and he used his blood to add some color to the canvas. My father felt that no false pigment would be good enough. Blood has its own unique tone that just can't be copied. Daddy was always so fussy about the little details."
"Kate, this painting is hundreds of years old -"
"It was a warm summer's day when the painter arrived," Kate continued, slowly advancing upon Mike as he backed away into the next room. "I had to spend a week posing for him. God, it was boring, but the end result, the painting, was quite fabulous. I almost felt sorry when father handed me the knife and told me what I had to do, but of course, one is always a little hesitant when one kills for the first time."
"Kate...
"I chose that name when I came to work at the museum," she explained. "Catherine Langley. Kate. I plucked it out of thin air. I just wanted to be close to the bones when they arrived. I knew my brother would be among them. It was so hard to keep calm when I first saw his remains, but I couldn't let Marlowe or the others know who I really am, could I? I've waited centuries for him to be resurrected. In fact, after a while, I began to regret the little trick I pulled to get Alderman Petrov to bury him in the first place, but that's all by the wayside now. What matters is that my dear brother is on his way home. In fact, he should be here any minute. It's been so long since I saw Edgar. Our reunion is going to be so fabulous."
"Kate -"
"Call me Madeleine. I've used so many fake names over the years, but at the end of it all, I'm still, always and forever, Madeleine. I'm sorry I lied to you, Mike, but it was all rather necessary. Deception, like cruelty, courses through my veins and makes me who I am." She smiled, with tears in her eyes. "It's been three hundred and fifty years since I last saw my brother, but I haven't changed at all. And he hasn't changed, either."
"I'm getting out of here," Mike stammered, trying to walk around Kate, "I'm not going to -"
Stepping directly in front of him, Kate opened her mouth and hissed, exposing two sharp fangs.
"Jesus!" Mike shouted, stepping back.
She smiled. "I feel bad about Marlowe. He was a nice guy. A fool, but still a nice guy. Maybe I should have killed him, instead of allowing him to descend into madness. Then again, I've always enjoyed such cruelty. I've tried to change, Mike. Really, I have. I've dallied with purity and innocence. I've tried to be good and kind, but it just doesn't work. God, the torment has damn near ripped me apart, but eventually I had to accept that I can't change. None of us can. We are who we are, and what we are. Cruelty's just part of my nature. It's who I am. After all, did you ever see a scorpion try to cut off its own tail?"
"What are you?" Mike asked, his heart racing as he tried to work out how to get past her and make it out to the jeep.
"What do you think I am?" she replied, opening her mouth a little and showing her fangs once again. After a moment, she frowned, and then she turned to look back at the door. "He's here," she said eventually, her voice filled with longing and passion. "At least, he's here!"
"Who?" Mike asked.
"He's here!" she shouted, running back to the door and stopping for a moment. "Oh, after all this time, my handsome brother and I are to be reunited!" Putting her hands together under her chin, as if in prayer, she clapped with excitement. "How utterly fabulous!"
"What are you talking about?" Mike asked, moving across the room until he could see through to the hallway, and to the main door that led into the castle from outside. After a moment, he realized there was another figure walking slowly into the castle. "Who's that?" he shouted.
"This is my brother," Madeleine said, grinning from ear to ear, looking as if she was totally mesmerized by the dark silhouette that had stopped in the far doorway. "Edgar is home! After long last, we're reunited! This is going to be so wonderful! So fabulous!" She turned back to look at Mike. "He's risen. Don't you see? He's crawled from his grave! It took him centuries, and it must have been so painful, but our games can begin all over again! The games and the pain and the love and the hatred and the anger. All of it. And now we'll be together forever, and the LeCompte family will rise again!"
The Vampire's Grave part 2
Chapter One
"Your new skin," Madeleine said softly, as she ran a sponge over Edgar's bare back in the flickering candlelight, "is just like your old skin. It's amazing how it can grow back like this time and time again, reforming in its old patterns, never losing an inch of its perfection. If anything, you look even better than before. Younger, more radiant." She squeezed the sponge, forcing out some more of the soapy water and the using a hand to spread the foam across her brother's flesh. It was just like the old days, when they'd bathe together, and she felt reassured by the resumption of this ancient tradition. "Our bodies, Edgar, are the most wondrous things. To think, the last time I saw you, you were just a set of bones on a tray in the museum in London. How quickly you've returned to your old form. Just a couple of months. It's a miracle. A miracle from God."
"I had no choice," Edgar said darkly, staring at the candles that flickered by the edge of the bathing pool in one of the smaller rooms of the castle. "I spent an eternity in that grave, thanks to you. My head was removed and placed between my feet. A brick was forced into my mouth. The fools even put herbs and flowers in my coffin, thinking that they would prevent me from returning."
"And they did," Madeleine said, dipping the sponge in the pool for a moment before continuing to wash Edward's lower back. "Didn't they? For a while, at least."
"You went too far," he replied firmly. "The game was just supposed to be a way for us to pass the time, Madeleine. You had me imprisoned in that grave for hundreds of years. Did you never think to dig me up and rescue me? Did you never think that perhaps, just perhaps, you'd overstepped the bounds? I waited for you to come and get me out of there, but you never came."
"I knew someone would dig you up eventually," she said calmly, "and I was right. As soon as I heard that your bones were to be taken to London, I made my way there and ensconced myself at the museum. I created a whole new identity for myself, just so that I could be close to you, so that I could watch your ragged remains as they healed. Do you have any idea how long I spent at that museum, pretending to be
some other woman, just so I could be there when you finally arrived? And then I pretended to like that Marlowe fool, just to get closer to his work. I was going to help you, but obviously you took matters into your own hands and burned the museum down instead. I must say, Edgar, I think that was a little over the top." She giggled. "A whole museum. Daddy would have been so proud."
As she ran the sponge over Edgar's skin, Madeleine was momentarily dazzled by the candlelight as it glistened against his wet shoulders. She'd missed these moments. While Edgar was gone, she'd been alone. She'd dallied with humans here and there, but a human mind wasn't enough for her. She needed a vampire; she needed her brother. Now that he was back with her, she was convinced that their pair of them could resume their old life. The castle was still in good condition, so they could use it as a base while they re-established themselves in the region. After three hundred and fifty years, the locals would learn to fear the LeCompte family all over again.
"Just so that you know," Edgar said eventually, "your debt will be repaid. I won't forget what you did to me. When you're least expecting it, I shall take my revenge."
"Oh, I hope so," she replied. "You know how much I enjoy our games."
"You won't enjoy this one."
"Sounds like fun."
"It'll hurt."
She squealed with delight.
"Give me that!" Edgar snapped, grabbing the sponge from her hands. Turning to her, there was real anger in his eyes. "I can bathe myself. I'm not a child. Don't you have other things to be doing?"
"I've missed you," she said hesitantly, shocked at his forcefulness. "Edgar, it's been so long -"
"And whose fault was that?" he shouted. "Three hundred and fifty years, Madeleine! I was down in that grave for three and a half centuries! Do you think I wasn't conscious during that period? Of course I was! Every second of that time, I was trying to force my body to heal! Can you even begin to imagine the agony I endured? Can you conceive of my thoughts when finally, after so long, I realized that my coffin was being dug up? And then, to realize that my body had deteriorated to become little more than a collection of bare bones? The healing process was so desperately slow! I had to wait while I was driven and flown halfway across the world, with a bunch of other, ordinary corpses all around me! And then, laid out on that metal slab in that idiot's laboratory at the museum -"
"It was just a game," Madeleine replied, her voice low and pained. "I didn't mean to -"
"When you came in to look at my bones," Edgar sneered, "I swear to God, I was ready to rise up and slit your throat. I could hear every word you said to that idiotic man. I knew exactly what kind of game you were playing. Do you want to know why I burned that entire museum down? It was because I could no longer contain my anger at you! You filled me with so much rage, I had to find a way to let it out!"
"It was a game," Madeleine said again, trying to sound a little more firm this time. "We always played games, Edgar. That's how we amused ourselves. Perhaps I went a little far on this occasion, but it was still just a game -"
"Games are for children!" he shouted.
"No! No, that's not true! We're different, Edgar. We're not like others. We were just having fun -"
"Three hundred and fifty years!" he screamed. Standing naked, waist-deep in the bathing pool and illuminated only by candlelight, he was a fearsome sight. Slowly, as if he was becoming a little calmer, he began to use the sponge to wash his chest. "Three hundred and fifty years trapped in a pauper's grave," he continued. "Believe me, sister, I had more than enough time to contemplate all manner of things I could do to you. I came up with a thousand ways to gain my revenge. The only difficult part of the endeavor will be in deciding which I shall choose first."
"I look forward to it," Madeleine said with a faint smile.
"Don't," he replied firmly. "You will suffer, and you will regret the day you had me entombed."
"When you've finished washing yourself," she said, "perhaps you can wash me?"
"You disgust me," he sneered.
"I must say," Madeleine replied, watching as Edgar continued to clean himself, "I think you're overreacting just a little. We never set any rules for our games. They were a free-for-all, so I don't see why you're so mad at me. It was all just a way of playing with each other, to pass the time. It's not my fault you weren't able to find a way out of that grave sooner. I mean, how was I to know that idiotic old Alderman Petrov and his bunch of yokels would actually be able to stop you from breaking free? I thought they were just full of bluster."
"Didn't you wonder why, after a few years, I still had not emerged?"
"I thought maybe you were sulking," she said, "or that you were enjoying yourself down there."
"Enjoying myself?" Edgar roared. "You thought that I might be enjoying my captivity?"
"Let's not fight," Madeleine replied. "It's been so long since we were together, let's not spoil things by getting angry at one another. I'm sure we've both made mistakes, but we can get past that, can't we? We can talk about things calmly over dinner, rather than -"
"You make me sick," Edgar said, his voice filed with anger.
"Oh, don't say things like that," Madeleine said, forcing a laugh. "God, I'd forgotten how serious you can be sometimes. It was a game, Edgar. That's all. A game. I understand that you're upset about losing, but -"
"Get out of my sight!" Edgar shouted.
"Come here," Madeleine said, smiling as she waded through the water. "Let me finish cleaning you. It's the least I can do."
"Don't touch me," Edgar replied, baring his fangs. "I want to be alone. I don't want to listen to your lies. The castle is large and empty, Madeleine. There's no reason for us to be in the same room all the time."
"But this is our big, happy reunion!"
"Get out!"
"Let me wash you first," she said, reaching out for the sponge.
"No!" Edgar shouted, grabbing her by the arm and pushing her away.
"What's wrong with you?" Madeleine shouted back at him. "You used to like playing games!"
"Things have changed," he replied.
"No!" she shouted.
"I grew up!" he said firmly. "I spent three hundred and fifty years trapped in a coffin, and I grew up! It seems that you, on the other hand, continued to play your ridiculous games up here on the surface. I used to tolerate you, Madeleine, but at this point in time I feel physically sick every time I look at you! I've changed -"
"No!" she shouted again, rushing forward and grabbing him by the shoulders. "Nothing's changed! We haven't changed! We can't change! We're like this forever, and the game will go on forever! Don't you understand?"
"Leave me alone," Edgar replied, pushing her aside as he made his way to the edge of the pool and began to walk up the steps.
"Not until you talk to me!" Madeleine shouted, hurrying after him.
"I'm warning you," he replied, still walking away. "This isn't the time to push me, Madeleine -"
"Talk to me!" she screamed.
In a flash, Edgar turned and grabbed her, pulling her close and biting down hard on her bare shoulder, using his fangs to rip away a section of flesh. Although she struggled, Madeleine couldn't get free as blood poured from her wound and ran into the bathing pool, and eventually she let out a gasp of pain. Finally, as Edgar released his grip a little, Madeleine was able to pull away and clutch the deep gash that her brother had made.
"You bit me!" she shouted angrily.
"Be grateful that's all I did," Edgar sneered.
"You haven't bitten me since we were children!"
"You're still a child!" he roared. "You still play games! What are you going to do now, Madeleine? Are you going to bite me back? Do you want to fight me, the way we fought when we were younger?"
With tears in her eyes, still clutching her bloodied shoulder, Madeleine stepped back toward the center of the bathing pool.
"Good," Edgar said, seeming a little calmer. "Your blood tastes weak and putrid these days. I want to be alon
e for a few hours. We'll meet at dinner and discuss our plans. Until then, keep out of my way."
Once Edgar had stormed out of the room, Madeleine was left standing alone and naked in the bathing pool, with blood still pouring from her injured shoulder and tears still rolling down her eyes. She'd been so desperately looking forward to Edgar's return, and it hadn't occurred to her that he might be angry. Well, not this angry. Trembling a little, she took her hand away from her shoulder and saw that the wound was deep and wide. It would take many hours for her flesh to heal, and for the pain to go away. Looking down, she saw that the water around her was running red. Determined to wash away her tears, she slowly lowered herself beneath the surface until she was floating in a cloud of her own blood.
Chapter Two
Staring up into the darkness, Mike realized that the two creatures had stopped arguing. For now, at least. Over the past half hour, he'd been able to hear them in a distant part of the castle, shouting and screaming at each other. They seemed to be totally out of control, as if they were wrapped up in their own very private battle, and Mike was tempted to believe that they'd completely forgotten him. Ever since they threw him down into this small, dark stone chamber in the heart of the castle, he'd been terrified that their plan was to just ignore him and let him waste away. From his limited knowledge of medieval torture methods, he was fairly sure that he was in an oubliette, which meant that there was no likelihood of him being retrieved any time soon.
The oubliette was small, barely a couple of meters in diameter, and with a low, arched roof. There was no light at all, so Mike had been forced to feel his way around the walls. It was clear, however, that the only way in or out was via the hatch in the ceiling, which was firmly bolted shut. There was a small amount of straw on the floor, and once or twice Mike had heard a rustling sound that he thought might be coming from a mouse or a rat. The place certainly stank, suggesting that some kind of creature had made its home in the chamber, and eventually, as he listened to the silence and waited for the distant argument to resume, Mike felt a sudden, sharp biting sensation on his leg.
