by Stead, Nick
Constance’s presence brought new smells slithering into her nostrils, none of them pleasant. There was nothing tantalising about that aroma as there would be for a wolf hungering for flesh, and yet hunger was exactly what she was feeling creeping into her soul. A terrible hunger, one which clawed and raged and screamed deep within. This went far beyond the ache of an empty belly. Never had she experienced a hunger so great, not even during the year of the famine when crop yields had been at the lowest in her lifetime. It demanded to be fed and she feared she had not the strength to fight it.
But it was not the serving girl’s scent which drew her from the bed. It was that sound. That steady rhythm beating in the girl’s chest, calling her, teasing her with its promises of the warmth she longed for. Like a young rogue it danced and flirted, and like any fair maiden she found she couldn’t resist its charms, her limbs carrying her across the chamber with a will that no longer seemed her own.
Constance had already started making her way out of the room and along the passage, towards the spiral staircase leading down to the great hall. Lady Sarah followed. They had almost reached the stairs when the serving girl appeared to sense she had company. She turned, her face filled with concern for her Lady who she must have thought to be unwell. But concern turned to fear as their eyes met.
Lady Sarah saw the girl’s lips move, but any words were lost in that beating call in Constance’s chest and the rush of blood in the girl’s veins, made more seductive for its quickening pace. Her upper canines were lengthening. The tips pressed against the inside of her bottom lip but she barely noticed. Such delights the heartbeat promised, if she would but reach out her hand and take them. And take them she did.
Lady Sarah wasn’t quite sure what happened next. She remembered standing there, her hungry gaze fixed on Constance who was suddenly beautiful beneath the grime on her clothes and skin. It was as if the girl shone with the life coursing through her veins, and Lady Sarah’s eyes roamed from the source of the captivating sound to those tubes carrying its promises. Her gaze settled on the girl’s throat, and in the blink of an eye her jaws were closing around that soft flesh.
Some part of her knew she must have crossed the short distance between them, that she could not simply have disappeared from the space she occupied and reappeared right by Constance, and yet she had not been aware of moving in so close. But then her fangs punctured the girl’s carotid artery and the world narrowed to the fountain of blood she’d unwittingly unleashed.
Both repulsive and intoxicating, it sprayed into her gaping mouth and created an explosion on her tongue. No food or liquid had ever tasted so intense, and she couldn’t gulp Constance’s life down quick enough, despite some small part of her knowing it was wrong. That part was drowning in the red lake filling inside her stomach. She might be engaged in the greatest of sin, but what did it matter when it all felt so good?
And the blood brought her far more than that pleasant feeling of being nicely satiated from a good meal. With each mouthful she swallowed there was the sensation of warmth sliding down her gullet, and as she continued to feed, that warmth spread through her veins, reaching out from her abdomen to her limbs, and all the way down to her extremities. It felt heavenly after the discomfort of the cold flesh she’d woken with.
Lady Sarah lost all concept of time in the state of euphoria she’d fallen into. When it was over it felt like it had been but a fleeting moment of ecstasy some divine being had granted her, yet whilst the blood was still flowing it seemed like the forbidden pleasure would never end. In reality, the fountain probably ceased to be a fountain in less than a minute. The geyser became no more than a bubbling spring, then that tailed off into a trickling rivulet, until finally that too slowed and came to a stop. The river Constance had dried up.
Lady Sarah dropped the empty husk and just stood for a moment, basking in the glow the experience left her with. Blood continued to drip from her clothes and her skin where the spray had missed her mouth and showered other parts of her body, marking her for the monster she truly was. The glow was quick to fade, though the warmth – the very life – she’d stolen would remain until dawn. And once that glow faded, she was faced with the realisation of what she’d done.
Constance’s eyes seemed to be looking up at her, full of hurt and confusion, and above all else, fear. They had lost their spark of life, now residing in her own body, yet somehow the pain and terror of the servant’s final moments lingered there, engraved upon the face set to haunt her for many nights to come. Worse still was the unsightly crater her teeth had made in the girl’s neck. It looked more like an animal bite than a human and she might have tried to deny to herself she was the one responsible, had her mouth not been stained with the evidence.
She also noticed a scar shining on the girl’s palm, where before there’d been a dirty bandage. But how could that be when the wound had been fresh just hours ago? Confused and filled with remorse, Lady Sarah turned away from the mess she’d made and retreated back into her chamber, locking the door behind her.
The cold no longer bothered her, the dying fire the last thing on her mind then. She looked down at her bloodstained body, the fluid glistening darkly in the moonlight as though it had become imbued with the same evil that had taken hold of her soul. But how could this have happened? She’d never had the desire to kill before, much less to drink another person’s blood. Just thinking about it made her want to retch and heave the foul liquid out of her stomach, and yet her body still seemed to be operating with that monstrous will all of its own. The blood was staying inside her, whether she liked it or not.
Then there was the way her teeth had lengthened. She ran her tongue across her canines to find they had shrunk back to their normal size, though they were maybe a little pointier than she remembered. But they had definitely been fangs. They’d definitely grown longer and sharper, just like the intruder’s had right before he attacked, before he bit into her neck. New understanding dawned. That was it! The Devil had come calling, and he’d taken possession of her soul.
Lady Sarah cast her mind back to the moment she’d turned to find him standing behind her. At first he’d been visible as no more than a shadowy figure framed by the moonlight, his dark outline all the more monstrous for the wolf pelt he wore. Like a short tunic, unfastened and sleeveless, its head formed a hood and its forelegs hung over his shoulders, his muscular arms and chest bare and impressive. His own head had barely been visible and she’d almost mistaken him for a different kind of beast. But then he’d moved with a speed which should not have been possible, grabbing her mouth to keep her from screaming. And as she’d fallen into his hypnotic eyes, she’d been given a glimpse of something of the man beneath.
But could the Devil really have appeared to her in such a handsome guise? There’d been something wild about the stranger, something feral and primal, so very different from the refined noblemen of her time. Not just in his behaviour and the primitive style to his clothing, but also the hair beneath that pelt. These were not the carefully groomed locks of the gentlemen she was used to. No, what she could see of it was a black mess, more like the mane of an animal, and the short beard on his face looked matted with the remnants of his last meal. Yet she’d felt a giddy rush of attraction to him all the same.
He’d been gentler than she might have expected. The moment their eyes met, her fear had seemed to melt away, until there was only the burning passion which had taken a hold of her heart. Had that really been the face of evil? Yes. It was the only explanation, for why else would she have developed this foul thirst for human blood? The Devil had possessed her with his evil, and she must find a way to cast him out, or face eternal damnation. But how?
An idea came to her and she rushed over to her table, scanning its surface for the lantern she’d made for this very purpose. If she could just relight the candle, it should regain its power to ward off evil spirits, and perhaps that would be enough to drive out the demon wrapped around her soul. But it wasn’t
there.
She barely noticed the speed with which she was moving in her desperation. It took only seconds for her to search the room, all the while sending up silent prayers to the God she’d tried to remain faithful to all her life. Yet no amount of praying or pleading would bring the lantern back. It was gone, and perhaps the one person who could tell her where was dead.
Lady Sarah fell to her knees, weeping for all that the stranger had taken from her. Yet she could not believe God had completely deserted her. For surely it was only by His grace that it hadn’t been Selina or her parents she’d fallen on with mindless hunger.
A scream came from somewhere outside her room. Constance’s body had been discovered, and she realised she was going to have to clean herself up if she didn’t want to be discovered as the murderer.
Taking a deep breath, she composed herself and strode to the window. The height should have been dizzying, yet she felt no fear as she opened it and clambered up. Wandering the castle in her current state was not an option. It seemed she had one choice, and so she lowered herself onto the outside wall and began to climb down, slow and careful as she felt for each hand and foothold.
Lady Sarah made it to the bottom without incident. From there, it was a quick run to the nearest stream where she washed all evidence of corruption from her skin. There was little she could do about her dress but that was less damning than the blood staining her mouth. If anyone questioned it she would make up a story about confronting an intruder right before he killed Constance, showering her with the girl’s blood. She would tell them she had fled to her chamber and locked the door before he could kill her as well. No one would suspect her of the murder if she played her part convincingly enough.
The crust of dried blood took a few minutes of scrubbing to wash away, clinging stubbornly to her skin as though it were refusing to let her escape punishment for her crime. She cupped another handful of water, knowing it should have been freezing, yet still the cold could not touch her now she had the warmth of fresh blood in her veins. It was but another small mercy in the Hell she’d woken up in.
As she washed, her thoughts turned to the missing lantern. Maybe she should pay a visit to the kitchens and select another turnip to carve. Yes, that was what she would do. She’d been foolish to give in to despair so easily, foolish not to think of making a new one sooner. But at least the idea had come to her before the Devil had forced her to kill again.
Lady Sarah never made it to the kitchens that night. No sooner had she climbed back up to her chamber than someone tried to open the door. She unlocked it to find her parents and little sister on the other side – apparently Constance’s death had roused the entire castle.
“Sarah! Praise the Lord you have awoken.” Her mother hugged her and steered her towards her bed. “How do you feel?”
“I am quite well now, thank you,” she said, though she felt fear stirring within. What if the hunger returned?
“Oh, love, you had us so worried.”
“Really, Mother, it was only a brief swoon. I am well now,” she insisted, pulling away.
Her father gave her a disbelieving look, his face stern. “Sarah, it has been a month since we found you lying in a sleep from which you would not wake.”
She had to sit back down on the bed at that, too shocked to reply.
“She was dead, not sleeping,” Selina said, full of that child’s surety of the world as they saw it; even those things which their elders were blind to.
“Selina!” their mother said.
“Well she was,” Selina insisted.
“That is enough,” their father commanded.
Lady Sarah was speechless. A whole month had passed since All Hallows’ Eve – no wonder her lantern was gone! Would it still work outside of Allhallowtide if she carved a new one? She was doubtful, but what else could she do? Perhaps the priests could help if she were willing to confess her sins to them, which she was not. One day she would be queen. Her subjects could not learn the terrible truth about their future monarch, nor could her parents discover their daughter was a monster. At best, the truth would see her banished from their realm. At worst, her father’s knights would be sent to slay her, and scared as she was, she had no wish to die. No, she had to face her demon alone and just pray God would give her the strength to drive it out without the need for His priests.
A sneeze brought her back to the present. The human beside her dug around in his pockets and retrieved a tissue, blowing his nose with irritating loudness. Lady Sarah clenched her teeth and resisted the urge to kill him. She often forgot just how revolting living bodies could be.
To think she’d once feared the gift Ulfarr had given her. But she had, and during that period of her misguided belief she would even have referred to it as a curse. Yet it was as much exciting as it was terrifying. Every night she woke up cold and hungry, and every night her body’s need for fresh blood drove her to kill. But when she fed, it was always euphoric, and afterwards it would leave her feeling strong and powerful, and as alive as her dead body could ever be.
Yet there was also remorse for those early victims, and so she had both loved and despised the changes her body was going through. It was a time when she would have done anything to regain her humanity, no matter the cost.
And where was Ulfarr in all this? Not a night had gone by when she didn’t long to be back in the embrace of his cold flesh, or to ask his guidance. But despite her conviction he’d turned her out of love, he’d abandoned her to struggle through her undeath alone. A part of her would always resent him for that.
Yet she would be the first to admit she’d had an easier time of her undeath than most. Few she’d met over the centuries had been able to carry on in their human lives the way she had, and never for as long.
She knew she’d been incredibly lucky. It was only through her father’s denial that she had escaped burial when they’d found her dead in her bedchamber, and had it not been for him, her first decade of vampirism could have been so much more difficult. For ten glorious years she continued in the luxury she’d known as a human, taking her place on the throne after the death of her parents and feeding on peasants in the surrounding villages. But it couldn’t last.
The night of her first ‘death’ was as dark as they come. Clouds obscured the moon and stars, the sky as black as her mood.
Lady Sarah stood at the castle window in what had once been her parents’ chambers, steeling herself for the hard road which lay ahead. She was about to leave everyone she’d ever known and loved, never to return. It was perhaps the greatest sacrifice her vampirism could have demanded of her, and yet it was one she must make if she wished to remain one of the undead and not one of the truly dead. For that would surely be the outcome if she stayed any longer, when the realm would begin to see their Queen did not age.
But she had duties to attend to first. Her court would be expecting her presence and she intended to oversee the proceedings as normal.
Lady Sarah left the sanctuary of her private chambers to face the tiresome affairs of her mortal subjects. She paused at the top of the spiral staircase to listen for Selina’s voice, but it came as little surprise to find her sister did not appear to be in her own section of the castle. Selina did not seem to have inherited the same sense of duty as she had.
“I want my sister found and brought to me at once,” she instructed the first servant she passed. The man bowed and started towards the bedchambers. “Do not waste your time looking for her there. If she is not in the castle, I suggest you try the nearest tavern. I am sure you are well aware of her love of the unseemly, but I will not allow it tonight. There are matters we must discuss.”
Ideally she’d have liked her sister to join her at court. Selina had shown little interest in how to rule a kingdom and she worried what would happen to the country once she left. A weaker woman might have used such an excuse to delay what she knew in her heart must be done, but Lady Sarah’s mind was already made up. Human society was not meant
to be placed in inhuman hands. An immortal ruler was perhaps only a step away from becoming a god, and though the thought of that amused her, Lady Sarah knew it could never be any more than fantasy. The risks were simply too great, both to herself and her people. Without change there could be no growth, and so she must have faith in her sister and trust that Selina would mature once the weight of the crown sat upon her head.
A crowd awaited in the great hall. All eyes turned to Lady Sarah as she strode over to the dais at the end of the room, and took her place on the throne one last time. She ignored them for the most part, though one particular voice found its way to her ears, its nasal tone as annoying as the noblewoman it belonged to.
“Why must we always wait until this unreasonable hour to hold the Queen’s court? We should be readying ourselves for bed!”
“Hush, my dear,” a male voice answered. “She is the queen – it is not for us to question her decisions.”
“Oh yes, let us all serve her with such blind loyalty. Really, husband, some days I wonder if there is anything other than air between your ears. Conducting one’s business under the hours of darkness is not natural, royalty or not.”
Lady Sarah felt her lip curling in contempt. She wrestled with the desire to sink her fangs into the noblewoman’s neck, thinking that the Lady Beatrice was lucky she had learnt to control such urges over the last decade. Her thirst for blood would not be denied, but it would have to wait until after all the official business was taken care of. And besides, her victim needed to be someone less prominent in society for her plan to work.
Overhearing that particular conversation confirmed one thing though. She had made the right decision. The time had come to say farewell to this life she had grown up in and start anew, someplace far away. Perhaps she had delayed this night too long already. Her hypnotic powers had served her well in quietening those who’d dared question her over the years, but she couldn’t hypnotise everyone. If her nobles were once again beginning to speak of the strange customs she’d imposed on them, it was for the best that she moved on. Selina might not thank her for it but her people certainly would.
