by JN Moon
Slums
Anthony
Knowing we had to wait until the next night to reach the time loop again, Marcus and I were offered to share their lair. It was kind of them, especially under the circumstances, but their hovel was also dire. Vampires, it seems, are not immune to bites from fleas, but in time these wretched creatures seemed to give up the ghost, and I finally stopped itching.
We had to share three to a bed. I would, under normal circumstances, have taken the floor, but judging by the shit on their shoes and the state of the floor I squeezed onto the bed.
Everything stank, the bedding was damp with mildew, and filth seemed to be an ordinary part of their daily existence. I got little sleep during that day, the noises, and smells from outside down in the street travelling up into their tiny flea-pit, and the discomfort of the bed kept me awake.
Mould oozed through my senses. I was forced to try and sleep on my back wedged between Marcus and Claude. We slept in our clothes. I was glad as they provided protection from the dirt. After a fitful day, relief filled me when the shadows of dusk started to fall and the breeze began to cool the room down. If we had to stay a while we had to find a house. Althea had given us money, obviously through magic, and Marcus also had means in this time. As I lay thinking, suddenly sweat broke out over me. What if Marcus met himself in his past? This would be a paradox, and could affect everything in his future, which in turn could affect everything and everyone else! I would need to speak to him about this, and about avoiding anywhere he frequented when he lived here in his past! God, I longed for a normal day, in my own time.
Evening eventually drew in. Everyone else had slept and got up whilst I laid there in a state of unease. After they took turns to wash their faces and hands, the women started putting on make-up, or painting their faces as they said in the Victorian times. I wanted to ask them why they had been in the time loop, but I felt it wasn’t the right time. We’d jumped right into their lives, suspecting they were some malicious creatures, but they turned out to be the opposite. I had a hunch that they were trapped in their time, after all if they could have gone to my time they surely would have.
Rebecca and Eliza went behind the screen to change their outfits. As we had stayed with them that first night, everyone kept wearing their same clothes. I wasn’t used to not washing and murmured to Marcus that we, or rather he, needed to find us a place immediately.
The women emerged wearing rough cotton dresses, rags by comparison to the night before. They applied a smattering of white powder to their faces and blush to their cheeks. Their dresses were cut higher, just above the ankle, and I gleaned from their attire that these were the signals to show men they were available for hire.
Claude and William also dressed down. They looked like labourers in their rough-hewn trousers, shirts and jackets, and hobnail boots.
“We’ll take you hunting. Prepare yourselves, we’re going to the slums.”
I guessed this wasn’t good. Marcus told me, “Anthony, you need to be ready for this, it won’t be an easy thing for you to see how these people live, exist,” he stammered, his eyes fixed to the ground.
“Surely then we’re not going to prey on the poor?” I cried.
“Where there is poverty there is crime and cruelty. Have no worry on that account; we only take the vicious ones,” William added.
I thought I’d be fine, after all I’d travelled around the world when I was mortal, but actually nothing prepared me for this. As we neared the street, the ground grew deep and mushy with waste.
“The river floods regularly and this whole area is engulfed. It’s best to try and ignore that fact, not to think about what you’re wading through. Fortunately for us, we can’t get sick,” Claude informed me.
The point being the whole city dumped their waste, all of it, in the river. The rancid smell made me wish even more that Nicolas had never called me that night.
“Here,” said Claude, handing me a handkerchief.
It was laced with strong smelling salts. A small amount of relief washed over me as I breathed in using the hankie, and ease softened my chest. Though I could still smell the sewage, it helped at least. My feet were fortunately in strong boots and squelched through the filth from the overflowing gutters. To know this was how people lived in my home city only a 150 years ago, weighed my heart down.
The mainly bare-footed children wore rags. A few had shoes or boots too big for them and a handful wore coats, but all looked frozen. To see their feet, bare in that muck, was harrowing. What I found surprising and sad was that some still laughed taking this as normal, though most shivered and many stared with vacant eyes.
Gloomy passageways revealed stooping or hunched figures—silhouettes in that place of horror. Beggars, mainly children, approached us, hands out pleading. Their lives were one of fighting to exist, a battle of starvation and disease. Seeing this and knowing my own existence, knowing the things I had complained of, made their plight seem oppressive to me. I couldn’t help these people, but I supposed that’s why Claude and the others came to feast on the cruellest here, trying in their own way to give the desperate people some relief.
Eliza and Rebecca left to visit the brothel to feed from the pimps or any other malevolent humans they came across. For us, we went to pay a visit to the most vicious of them—the debt collectors.
“These men are so foul that they’re not content with taking goods for debts, they use brutality and not just on the adults. You may see children in the shadows, faces black and purple or worse as a result from these bastards,” William spat out.
We came to a lodging huddled between the other squalid buildings, but this was more discernible. Iron bars covered the windows and a large, heavy oak door guarded the entrance. I wondered how William and Claude thought they’d get in, but they were far more organised than I realised.
William knocked loudly, and a small hatch in the door opened.
“I’ve come to repay my debt. My name is William Herbert.” His words were sharp and clear and he held out a small bag bursting with coins. The huge door groaned open and a wash of smoke and liquor breathed out, warm and sweet as we were shown in.
Three men sat around a fire, two of them smoking, the lines on their faces etched so deep they seemed to be made of stone. One in particular, a wiry man with small hard eyes and narrow lips, snarled as he watched us.
They eyed us in contempt, even in our shabby clothes we were dressed finer than them. Smirking and smug, they faired their chances of easy prey, robbing us and beating us. I could tell all this from their feeling, their arrogant expressions, and in the way that they stood to face us off as we four came towards them. They simultaneously stepped back however, once Marcus came into sight. A beefy bodied and full-faced man edged back, nodding as his brain comprehended the sheer size and power of Marcus.
“Eh lads, c’mon, we don’t want no trouble now.” His chubby face and slight grin exposed a mouth with so few teeth I wondered how the hell he ate.
William and Claude were used to this, of course. The petty dramas of mortals. And their acting was second to none. I couldn’t hold in a smirk.
“So, Mr. Brown, I owe you the sum of two pounds I believe?” William placed the money on the table and nodded towards the chubby man. Something shifted in the place, a faint sound somewhere in the building, and a chill swept over me. My stomach tightened and I got the smell of blood. Something or someone was in pain here, terrified. I felt them. I knew their fear lay in the hands of these men. My breathing increased, eyes widening instinctively, and a power of righteousness surged through me.
Greed consumed the hearts of these men, and they were oblivious to the change in us. Their eyes fixed on the vast sum of money on the table before them.
I heard Marcus inside my head. They think they can beat us up and get more. They’re not even caring about me as a threat now that money is there. They’re blinded by greed.
I shot him a look of understanding.
H
e replied to my thought through his mind. I’d never condone men this evil. I can hear their thoughts as you hear mine, but their blatant disregard for their own safety isn’t surprising in this age. It’s sad.
We waited a few minutes for them to scramble for the money and stayed perfectly still—too still in fact. We wanted them to realise that they were now the prey, and sure enough, with our blood lust rising up, the hapless folks started to sense their danger, their peril. Too late.
It was so easy, it was almost sad. We could’ve scared them to death. We fed on them slowly making sure they felt pain just like they had afflicted on others. As we stacked their bodies, Claude and William searched the building for the money.
They knew where it was. When you drink someone’s blood you’re connected and their secrets, their emotions pour into your mind. It can actually be a gruelling experience and one you need to tame so you don’t become depressed with the feelings and experiences of the black hearts of evil mortals.
The money would be given to those who needed it, amongst the poor. The group had contacts enough and knew quite a lot of the people living in the harshest conditions. They would leave money for them in safe places around those people’s hovels, but never tell the poor that they had left it.
I was surprised they hadn’t established better living for themselves, but as they’d said, they had been under suspicion the last time they did that. In this century, to be poor was to go unnoticed and no one cared, at least no one with any status. Those higher up in this society blamed the poor for being underprivileged. So in their own macabre way, this small group of vampires who I initially thought of as cruel and cunning were in fact kind.
For me then, with Marcus, we sought out the creature that had sent a shiver of helplessness down my spine. Wiping the blood from my mouth, I climbed the tiny, dirty stairway up into a loft. Cobwebs hung like clouds, thick and dense. I felt him before I saw him, in the far corner a child of about twelve huddled in the corner crying. His trousers were too small and a rag of a shirt hugged his skin like ripped flesh.
“It’s alright, you’re safe now. They’re dead, all of them,” I whispered to him. Smiling, I held out my hand for him. He backed further away. I locked eyes with him and smiled, using our gift of hypnosis. He still didn’t move at first, and then I saw why. His legs were bent in front of him and he held a tiny kitten who looked as skinny as he was.
“It’s okay; I’ll find a safe place for both of you. I promise, I swear on my life.” I was sincere, so slowly he edged forward holding his cat close to his chest. A few tears ran down my face, I had to wipe them away quickly. I didn’t want to scare him. A vampire’s tears mix with blood, not a pretty sight. Scooping him and his tiny tabby cat up, I carefully found my footing on the narrow stairs and called softly for Marcus.
Marcus’s face beamed with happiness, mixed with sadness when he saw these two in my arms. “You’ll need a safe home; a forever home. I know just the person.” He winked warmly at the boy.
Claude came in. “William has taken the money to Rebecca and Eliza.” His face lit up, seeing the child and kitten in my arms. “Ah, poor creature!” With a grin as wide as his face, he walked over and gently swept the boy’s hair from his face.
“You’re very different to most of our kin that I’ve met. You’ve retained your humanity well!” I said.
His answer was as gracious as he was. “Well, we didn’t choose this life and it helps us retain our state of mind knowing we can use this power to do some good. You don’t do the same?”
I nodded, smiling, but Marcus cut in, “He’s known for it. Most don’t do it, but Anthony’s a bit of a vigilante! Though...” He nudged me slightly. “It took him a while to stop being selfish!”
“Where can we take the child so he’s safe?” Claude asked.
“I know of someone,” Marcus responded.
The boy was asleep now in my arms and his kitten purred, nestled up in his arms.
“A nephilim? That’s who you’re taking him to?” I heard it from his mind.
“Exactly,” Marcus replied assuredly. “He is perfect. For this boy’s protector, this child’s guardian will outlive him, and his cat. I can be sure he’ll be safe.” He laughed.
I didn’t need to ask Marcus questions. I knew his heart well enough from his telepathy since we first met. As we crept out of that place into the cold, the wind biting at my hands and face, I stopped for a second to look around.
This place I call home 150 years ago was like another reality. A living Hell on Earth. In my heart I wanted to change this, to help these poor creatures. It would haunt me forever, their poverty, their motionless faces and no opportunity for them to escape this cruel existence. It seemed my cold vampire heart was not so cold after all.
Home from Home
Anthony
With the boy and his cat asleep in Marcus’s arms, he flew off gently to find the nephilim friend who he could entrust with their lives. He also needed money and assistance. I was disturbed by this era, my heart bled for these people, I may be capable of killing, and with the evil I now have no remorse. As a vampire, sensations are heightened and so this, all this troubled my soul gravely.
Marcus gave me instructions about renting rooms just outside the city centre, and I had to go and meet with his contact. Lucky for me that Marcus had lived in Bath in the past and I could at least find somewhere better to stay. We were taking the four with us.
I was to meet this man in the pub next to the theatre, and ask for a Mr. Charles Robertson, and say that I had been sent on behalf of Marcus Taffia to find rooms immediately for a party of six.
Taffia. I wondered what that meant. I had never asked Marcus what his last name was. I suppose being a nephilim hybrid, I assumed he didn’t need one. He probably had a social security number, too...
The tavern, as they called them in this time, was bursting and smelling of ale with faces flushed pink from alcohol and a warm fire inside. Painted women sat amongst the tables of men and I squeezed my way through to the bar. I had no concept of their money. I ordered a beer and placed a handful of coins in the bartender’s sausage fingers before asking for Charles. The ruddy-faced barman cocked his head and said in his thick country accent, “Who shall I say is asking?”
I told him I was a friend of Marcus’s then pretended to sip the beer as he scuttled off to the other end of the bar, whilst I turned away to watch the revellers.
A stringy man, taller than most, ambled over with a huge stride and a smile as wide as his face, reaching out his hand courteously. “A friend of Marcus? I trust he is well? Your name, sir?”
So much civility in this age clashed with severity of the disease and poverty. Shaking his hand, I had to speak the part. “My name is Anthony Maddock, sir. I was told to impress upon you that we require lodgings for six at once. Marcus has arrived back due to a family emergency and there was no time to send word. I do hope that this isn’t too much of an imposition, but he said you shall, as always, be handsomely rewarded for your efforts.”
I felt like an actor from a period drama, but to pull it off as a gentleman—even a lower class one—I had to speak as they did. It was fun but tiring.
“I see, sir.” He raised his eyebrows. “Right now?”
I nodded my head in agreement.
He looked about him gathering his thoughts. “Normally I would need a deposit upfront!”
My heart sank. I knew Marcus could access money. His kin always had plenty of it, they didn’t value it as humans do, only as a means to an end, but until he got back I was fast running out of it. I certainly didn’t have enough to secure a house.
To my surprise, William stepped forward dressed in top hat and tails, I hadn’t realised he’d gone home, washed and dressed, and was now introducing himself, which was disconcerting for a vampire. Gracious as ever, he definitely pulled off being a gentleman. “Mr. Robertson, allow me to introduce myself. My name is William Herbert and I am one of the friends who are staying with M
arcus during this trying time.” Williams’s countenance resulted in an enthusiastic response in Charles.
“I only have thirty pounds on me right now, Mr. Robertson, but hopefully that could be taken in goodwill of a deposit?”
I knew enough to know that thirty pounds was quite a huge sum. People were lucky if they earned one pound a week.
“Why, Mr. Herbert, that would secure it, yes. It’s only on account of the landlord. He obviously needs assurance before the party can move in.”
“Excellent. We can move tonight?” William asked.
“I shall see to it at once, sir, and return here with the keys as soon as.”
“There’s no need, we shall accompany you. My carriage is outside; we can take that.”
I’d often wondered what carriages were like to travel in. Now I know, they are not comfortable but jerky and the seats are hard. At least the horses looked well cared for. But it was a relief to get out of that place and off the streets. After a stop at Mr. Robertson’s house, we made our way to our temporary home before setting off to meet Marcus’s ex-girlfriend, the sorceress.
The Sorceress and the Child
Anthony
Marcus found out from his nephilim friend where his ex, Mabel, lived but explained to me that he’d been warned she’d changed and not for the better. He was sincere that the warning was real and insisted that only he and I should visit her, leaving the others in the new apartment.
Now I had a chance to talk to him in private. “We need to make sure that you don’t meet your past self. If you do that could alter the future and it is a dangerous paradox. It makes my head hurt to think about it,” and before he could answer I blurted out, “And remember, this ex-girlfriend of yours. To her it’s only a few years since you broke up. She obviously won’t know or understand that this is a future you, you need to tread carefully. We need to get the boy and leave, God knows what we’ve done already!”
