“Follow me,” she said as my feet touched the ground. And we were away, moving swiftly around the side of the house, and across the lawn; gliding smoothly through the trees beyond. I followed her fluttering black cape, weaving through the darkness in front of me, as we made our way together into the night.
V
We made our way to one of the nearby villages, about two miles away, and covered the distance through woods and over fields in what seemed a matter of minutes. How can I describe the feelings inside me as I raced through the night, a stranger to exhaustion? Though Helena had said I was drained and weak, energy and strength were like a growing flame in me. Never had I known such exhilaration, as if nothing on earth were beyond my power. But gradually I began to feel, as Helena had predicted, a gnawing coldness in my breast and stomach, that rapidly began to spread through my limbs and cause me much discomfort. It was accompanied by an overall feeling of dehydration, as if my skin were made of dry, dusty leather.
We stood for a while in silence on the outskirts of the village, in the shadows along a dark lane that led from the local inn, through a thick clump of trees, in the direction of a few small cottages scattered into the distance. Before long a fairly large group of men emerged from the inn, and stood outside the door for a while, jabbering boisterously to each other. Then with loud farewells they split into smaller groups of twos and threes and started off into different directions. Two of them began to stroll down the lane towards us. One of these appeared to be middle-aged, and the other was a tall strapping fellow I judged to be about the same age as myself – twenty-three.
As they drew close to us I sank back into the cover of some nearby bushes; but Helena remained where she was, standing beside the path, watching them approach without apparent concern. Only when they were almost upon her did she move silently to one side, allowing them to go by, but still making no effort to conceal herself from them. One came so close to her that he almost brushed her with his shoulder. Yet it was so dark along that way, overshadowed by trees on a night that was in any case moonless and cloudy, that they did not see her. However, my own vision seemed to grow clearer by the moment. When they had passed us Helena moved up behind them, gesturing for me to do likewise. They trudged on without speaking and all was silence but for the steady crunching of their feet in the soft muddy ground. I moved forward slowly, watching in sheer wonder as Helena, after walking behind them for a while, strode up alongside them, moving frequently from one side to the other, sometimes crossing directly in front of them, sometimes moving in a complete circle about them and leaning forward as if to examine each man in turn. She moved about them with such silent speed and grace that her black hair and cape appeared to swish and weave strange patterns through the dark. And I walked, half-mesmerised by this macabre supernatural ballet which the two men had not the remotest knowledge was going on about them.
Now Helena was several paces in front of them, facing them, walking backwards, her step in time with theirs to maintain her distance from them. I crept closer, concentrating hard on moving noiselessly, envying Helena’s effortless stealth, though my own confidence was fast increasing. Then she looked between the two men at me, creeping behind, and said softly:
“Stay back now. When we leave the cover of the trees there will be light from the cottages.”
Her words had a most remarkable effect. It was as if she whispered directly into my ear. The men evidently heard nothing, however, though they stood between us. Thus I learned of our ability to move and even speak undetected in the presence of men.
The two men emerged now from the shadow of the trees, and the moment they did so Helena slipped from view then appeared back at my side with such fast, catlike motions that my own senses, for all their new found sharpness, were confounded. Now we stood and watched in the cover of darkness as the two men parted.
“G’noight then, Joe,” said the younger. “Sleep sound.”
“Fat chance o’ that, me ’an’some, wi’ moi Rosie snorin’ down me ear’ole all noight” said the other with a great snort of laughter; then he set off towards one of the nearer cottages. The younger walked on along the track towards a small, solitary dwelling in the distance.
Helena now moved forward, grasping my hand and pulling me with her.
“Come!” she said. “Follow me. Quickly!”
And she started off after the big figure. She moved behind him, gliding like a phantom, crouching slightly before leaping forward with terrifying speed, her arms entwining his broad shoulders, her hands gripping about his thick, muscular neck. I heard him gasp quickly, saw him thrash about momentarily in an effort to shake free; but her grip was tenacious and the very speed and force of her attack caused his legs to give way and he sank to the ground beneath her. It was an absurd sight: a lovely woman over-powering a great, strong man so easily. Yet I must remind myself that Helena, whatever she was, was not a woman. Only in form did she appear so. I knew too well her power, the cold potency of her grasp that caused all strength to crumble and induced a lull of shock, a masking of awareness with that inexplicable chill of pleasure that overwhelmed the body in moments.
Now she drew back from the prostrate form, pointing down as she looked up at me and said:
“Quickly, now. Before he wakes.”
I gazed down at the young man and my nostrils filled with the sweet, moist odour of his skin, carried on the breeze. A thrill passed through me and I swallowed with nervous excitement. I did not stop to think or question what I felt – indeed hardly a single thought had passed through my head since I had woken – I simply responded to my newly forming instincts. Drawn by some irresistible urge I crept closer, until I stared transfixed upon the young man’s body and felt its incredible warmth glowing on me like a blazing fire. The coldness inside me was unendurable now and I felt a need, an immense desire for the strength and power this body possessed. At any previous time I would certainly have envied it, yet what I felt now was something far more.
Reaching out, Helena took my arm and pulled me down until I was kneeling beside the limp figure. Then she took my head in her hands and pushed me down until my face rested against his and his skin burned into mine. I wrapped my arms about him and he sighed softly, his body moving gently. My sight grew dim. A flood of some great power was rising up about us, growing stronger until it seemed I could see it, taste it. It was an aura of living energy that flowed and swirled about us, engulfing us, making our bodies one. I clung to him tighter still, felt my cold lips resting on his hot flesh. A stream of warmth burst onto my mouth, my chin and my neck, tiny beads of heat that trickled and ran down over my chest. And that cloud of power had become as some oppressive weight that increased until I felt that our bodies might be crushed together. The sturdy frame beneath me writhed from side to side and uttered breathless gasps as I pressed my lips down firmer and the thin, hot stream flowed into my mouth. And all the while I was vaguely aware of Helena, who knelt by my side and cradled me tightly in her arms.
Then she pulled my head back, allowing me to breathe out and relax as I gargled the burning stuff in my mouth and throat. Slowly the mist cleared from my eyes. I breathed deeply, staring down at the figure beneath me. His head was on one side, lolling back, and at the base of his throat was a tiny wound, a small graze from which drops of blood slowly welled and bubbled. Now she pushed me down again, my lips onto the blood which I began to lap. The cloud rose again and he thrashed beneath me more wildly than ever, his life energy pounding into me. A great wave of warmth rose over me, shattering the cold inside, generating strength and revitalising my withered flesh. I pulled my lips from his throat, gasping again for breath as at last I seemed to see myself and feel myself suspended over a great red abyss. And then I was spinning, and the abyss was a scarlet vortex of pleasure that drew me fast into its depths.
At once I felt Helena’s small, firm hands pulling me back, trying to steady me. But I found myself struggling against her, growling from deep in my throat like some enrag
ed animal, intent on fighting my way further into the unexplored depths of pleasure ahead.
“No! No! That is enough!” I half heard her say in my ear; and then again with greater urgency: “That is enough! Enough! You will kill him!”
With a gasp of shock I raised my head. The vortex faded and vanished, and I saw instead the once ruddy but now pale and drawn face of the young man. He was apparently in a deep trance, his breathing laboured and shallow, but as I released my grip on him his lips parted in a light moan and his eyes flickered half-open. He looked at me dreamily for a few moments, then slowly he raised up his arms towards me, like a lover imploring me not to desert his embrace. With a sigh I started to sink back down into his arms, my thoughts drifting again into nothing. Helena’s cold hands took my shoulders in a grip of steel and tore me from him as she repeated sharply:
“You will kill him!”
I shuddered and breathed deeply. Now I was confused, startled by what I had done, and greatly distressed by the knowledge that had Helena not stopped me I should certainly have killed him. As I fed upon him he had barely seemed to me a man. Overwhelmed by my need he had become nothing more than a thing to be used until it was dried up and worthless.
“Come! Leave him there. When he awakes he will remember nothing.” Helena was walking away now, looking at me over her shoulder. I rose from my knees and followed her, feeling more life, warmth and strength inside me than ever before.
* * *
We moved on in silence for a long while, although there was so much to be said; over rolling hills and meadows until at last we walked across high, dark cliffs, staring down at the foamy sea far below, listening to the roar of the waves as they crashed against the rocks.
Helena seemed preoccupied as she stood with the great gusts of wind whipping at her long cape, hair and dress. At last she turned to me and said:
“Do you understand why I stopped you?”
I looked away and made no reply. Oddly I now felt little shock or dismay at the thought that I had in some way I did not understand partially drained a man of his very life. What I felt instead was a sense of crushing shame and embarrassment to think that Helena had seen me as I had never before known myself: unthinking and unrestrained. Swept away by sheer physical desires that I could not control. This was so unlike me, with my reserved and fastidious nature, that it greatly alarmed and frightened me. Finally Helena continued speaking.
“Through the ages,” she began softly, “men have dreamed of our power. The ultimate power. The power of eternal youth and life.”
“Immortality!” I said in the faintest whisper, the word sticking and breaking in my throat so that I repeated it slightly louder. “Immortality!”
“The span of our lives has never been measured. We never age. It is believed among our kind that we cannot die naturally. That we are indeed immortal.” She stared at me wide-eyed, her face unmoving. “The fountain of eternity. It flows for us in the bodies of men. To draw from humanity its strength. Its life. The raising of passions, of the body and the mind. Of all powerful emotion. The shedding of blood. These things discharge power into the atmosphere. Living energy that we may absorb into ourselves.”
“Our kind?” I repeated.
She paused now, and when at last she spoke again her voice was harsher. She seemed almost angry.
“The history of man is filled with legends of unknown monsters that haunt the dark to prey on him.” She frowned. “Lamia. Lilim. Incubus and succubus. The undead. Vampires. Hybrid demons and walking corpses. The names and forms attributed to us by men through the ages are numerous as they are unflattering. And where the legends ended and reality began I cannot say. But what do we care for the superstitions of men? All hunters are anathema to their prey. We are not demons. We are not vampires. We are the Revenant – who have returned from death.”
“Revenant?” I said quietly.
“So we call our own kind,” she nodded. “And why else do men fear us but that we embody their wildest dreams and desires. But know this. That man is not the only creature capable of reason and restraint, whatever his arrogance may lead him to suppose.”
I stood and listened to all this, believed the unbelievable with a calm and logic that was as astonishing in itself as these things I was told. Perhaps it was all too far beyond my comprehension as yet. But already my every concept of the impossible was shattered. I could do nothing but listen and accept. Now Helena drew closer to me, strands of her long hair floating on the breeze, and her voice grew soft again.
“Listen carefully, now. Tonight you would have taken life in ignorance. Now you have seen that we need not kill to exist. If you take life tomorrow you do so with the knowledge that it serves no purpose but the joy of killing. Never allow yourself to believe it can serve any purpose but that. After tonight, if you choose to take a life, I have no power to stop you. I ask only that you remember what I have said.”
I stood silent awhile, staring at the soft sea spray that danced and sparkled in the night air. Then I turned back to Helena. She was walking away, and I hurried to catch her up.
“That man!” I said. “The one tonight. If he had died. . would he… ?”
“You mean,” she said, glancing around at me, “would he have risen from death as you did?” I nodded. “No. Human life must be drained away slowly, over several nights, as our own life spreads through the veins to replace it. If the body is drained outright the shock is too great and the body will die.” Then she smiled slowly and said: “Why? Do you wish to make others already?”
“No – no!” I said quickly, shaking my head in confusion.
“Of course,” she laughed. “You must know these things. But always remember what you can give. The power of life and death. Such power is never to be granted lightly. If it is – when it is – our kind becomes as evil and corrupt as men have always believed us.”
We walked on, and I was at once seized with the desire to ask why she had bestowed these awesome gifts on me. But I did not. Instead I considered how perfectly the prophecies of my dream had been realised; and how easily and instinctively I appeared to have accepted my new existence. For the time being no further explanations seemed necessary.
We returned to the house. By the time we arrived dawn was beginning to show in the distance. Now Helena explained other things to me. That it is the custom of revenants to sleep through the day. Like most creatures equipped to live by night we are averse to sunlight. It drains our strength, dazzles our eyes and blisters our pale, sensitive skins. Prolonged exposure may eventually lead to exhaustion and delirium in a condition not unlike human sunstroke. To revitalise our strength we must in any case sleep each day our sleep of the dead; and so, naturally, we choose to rest through the brightest daylight hours.
Helena said she thought it best that I should not sleep in the house, but alongside her in the tomb. For our sleep cannot be broken and has all the appearance of death – mundane though it sounds it is for this and no supernatural reason that revenants often choose to repose in coffins, where if ever discovered a corpse will seem inconspicuous. If ever for any reason I had been disturbed by my servants while I slept a doctor would have been called to pronounce me dead. Then I would have lost my identity, my house, money, and all my possessions. Since I had no family, no one close enough to me to make the pretence too difficult, Helena said it should be safe for me to retain the facade of my human life, with all the advantages it carried.
She told me to go into the house and bring out a wooden trunk of some sort. I obeyed without question. I took an old clothes chest from my room, emptied its contents out on the bed. But before I returned to Helena in the garden I stood awhile, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Still I looked somewhat lean and drawn, but my skin no longer carried its former pallor. Now it glowed pink with the energy and blood I had taken, and a new, vital power burned visibly, almost fiercely from me.
I took the chest outside. At the tomb we opened an ancient coffin bearing the remains
of one Gilles LePerrowne, who had died some two hundred years earlier. These were now just a dusty collection of bones, occasionally covered by brown, leathery strips of skin, the face a grinning skull with some trace of colourless hair still apparent. Quickly we scooped up these contents and placed them inside the chest – which I buried out in the grounds nearby the following night. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world I lay down inside the mouldering old box, and Helena put the lid in place, enclosing me within.
And as I lay there a sense of enormous excitement came over me. I thought back on my past life and saw how strange and unnatural it had been: solitary and withdrawn into myself, filled with dark and unwholesome obsessions that had driven me even to invade a tomb and desecrate a grave. I grew suddenly convinced, and remain so to this day, that had I gone on so I should at last have ended up raving in some asylum for the rest of my days. And all this I saw at once with perfect clarity as I lay there in a coffin inside that cold and musty tomb, yet knowing suddenly that all along the real tomb had been my old life, my old nature and perception; and that what I knew now, lying among darkness and decay, was life and freedom beyond human imagining.
The dawn chorus was loud and shrill in my ears as sleep came to me.
VI
We passed the remaining months of summer there at my house in Cornwall. I soon established a nightly routine. When I rose in the evenings I would go into the house for a time to show myself to the servants, see to any business that might require my attention, and make the pretence of eating a meal. Then when darkness fell properly I would go out.
At first Helena would accompany me on my nocturnal wanderings, but after a while I went mostly on my own, haunting the dark lanes and silent places; for Helena said it was better for me to teach myself – stressing always the need for utmost stealth and caution – that there was little she could show me that I might not learn better simply by studying and knowing my own instincts. And it is easier and safer for us to stalk alone.
The Revenants Page 5
