So here we are again :-) and I must say didn't that week go by fast? It's been a good and not so good week for me. Good, because my little granddaughter celebrated her first birthday on new years eve, which was totally wonderful.
I should add that I love welcoming in the new year and also the fact that we leave the old year behind, but above all I love the countless opportunities a new year brings. My aim this year is to write more, go on a strict diet, and start smoking one of those electronic contraptions. The not so good bit of the celebration was that I was up in the early hours of new years day being sick (and no I wasn't drunk lol), which, of course, wasn't all that great! Anyway, enough about me. Here is (as promised), the second chapter of Vampire - In the Beginning, and so until next week, ta ta. Charmain x
Chapter
Two
1541
I remember it so clearly. It was a warm, sweet-scented evening, and
like so many times before; I followed the path that wound its way through the
bluebell copse and ran from my parents’ cottage down to Harper’s Farm. Gently,
I pulled back the springy twigs of the hazel trees that grew alongside the
pathway, I remember skipping out of the way of the rebounding branches,
giggling, and then I start to hum a once familiar tune.
I’m making my way to see Tom Harper. Tom is the love of my life; we
have grown up together, played together, and worked together. I surrendered my
body to Tom on a warm night in April the year before, and together we lost our
virginity, with gentle gasps of startled embarrassment and blazing excitement.
That first night of lust paved the way for night after night of sweet
and gentle passion. Our passion resulted in pregnancy, and as I make my way
along the bluebell-lined path, I carry inside of my belly the child of our
love. For many girls, the knowledge of pregnancy outside of marriage was a
disastrous turn of events. For me it meant that I was to marry the man I loved,
and my life was in many ways perfect!
As I pushed my way through the trees on that delicious spring evening,
I can remember imagining Tom running to greet me, his young handsome face
smiling, and his eyes shining with love for me and our unborn child. I remember
blushing as I dreamt of us collapsing together under the huge oak in the back
meadow, our lust and love sated in the warm breeze of the evening, and I giggle
at my daring thoughts.
I was, for this reason, somewhat disappointed when I reached the
kissing gate, for I realised that Tom was not, as he usually was, waiting for
me. A sigh escapes my lips, and now a little irritated, I resign myself to
crossing the meadow alone, and making my way up the winding lane that leads to
the farmhouse.
The final leg of my walk up to the farmhouse was a very steep, uphill
trek, and darkness falls by the time I finally reach the house. Therefore, I am
not only surprised, but also a bit irked to find the house silent and dark,
with no sign of the usual glow of the roaring fire shining out into the yard,
beckoning me from the windows.
I had never known the house to be so quiet, and the idea suddenly
struck me that maybe some sort of deadly disease had cursed the family? My fear
for Tom pushed my body quickly towards the house, and I slammed hard against
the front door, falling into the house in a tangled bundle of panic. It was
only after I scrabbled to my feet, and steadied myself, that I noticed the
horrific scene in front of me, and it was only then that I screamed in such
terror that my throat clenched in painful protest at my horror-stricken
outburst!
Tom’s mother Martha was sprawled across the large kitchen table, her
clothes ripped, and in places torn completely away; her ageing breasts fell
from her laced bodice, flaccid and drooping to the sides of her lifeless body.
Her legs were at a strange angle, and her skirts bunched up into a ball at her
waist. I could see, even from where I was standing, that she was dead! Martha’s
eyes were open, staring into nothingness and devoid of life, but it was her
throat that caught my attention, it gaped open, and it looked like what I
imagined the huge black cavern of hell to look like.
Although I think I probably knew deep down that an animal wasn’t able
to inflict the injuries I had seen on Martha’s body, I still searched the dark
recesses of the room for the beast. I can remember feeling afraid to move,
afraid to breathe, and although I looked around the room - I was afraid to
look. My eyes roamed the dark shadows of the kitchen, but I could see nothing,
and I remember thinking that I should turn and flee, but I also knew that I
could not, not until I had at least tried to find Tom.
The farmhouse consisted of just two rooms, the lower half, and the
upper half. Tom’s sisters, Jane and Margaret, slept alongside their mother and
father in the upper half. Tom and his brother Joe slept outside in the barn. I
decided to check the rooms upstairs first, because I knew that once I walked
away from the farmhouse, there was no way I was going to be able to face
Martha’s corpse and return.
I crept, petrified, towards the wooden ladder that led to the room
above. In order to climb the ladder I needed to move closer to Martha’s body,
and that was something that I really didn’t want to do. The sight of her
sprawled like a rag doll across the table made me feel sick to the pit of my
stomach, and the stench of blood deeply invaded my senses, and filled my
nostrils and mouth, so that I was only able to taste the cloying sweetness of
death. With a strength of will I didn’t know I possessed, I averted my head,
and made my way to the ladder. I was determined to search for Tom.
I had only just managed to climb halfway up the ladder, when the acrid
smell of blood and death started to become stronger and overpowering, and
suddenly I felt unable to move. I was in no doubt that once again I was to
confront death and destruction. I swallowed down the lump that seemed to have
lodged in my throat, and tried to ignore the shaking of the ladder that was
caused by my body trembling in fear. I must continue. I knew that Tom could be
in the room above, and so I ignored the slippery substance that I felt clinging
to the rungs of the ladder, a substance that I knew was blood, and with one
last push, I entered the upper room.
How I wish, even after all of these years, that I never entered that
hellhole! Jane and Margaret’s bodies were fragmented, and it looked as if
someone or something had been playing tug of war with their limbs. Blood and
body parts were spread the length and breadth of the room, legs and arms
sprawled in a tangled mess, and it was only after I searched and searched for
Tom that I realised that Tom’s father, a man named Isaac’s body lay tangled and
entwined alongside his two daughters. It was with self-disgust and
self-loathing that I turned from their bodies with a sigh of relief; hating
myself because the relief caused me to feel intense joy. How could I feel
elated at such a time? Even now, I feel shame at how I felt, but my joy stemmed
from the fact that Tom was not amongst the slaughter of his father and sisters,
and for that, I was grateful.
I made my way back down the ladder, all the while trembling and
gagging. The sights and smells of the upper levels of the house started to
curdle with the food in my stomach, and the need to be sick flooded my throat
and mouth. I fell, in a heap, from the last rung of the ladder, clutching my
middle, heaving vomit onto the dirt floor, and adding to the evil smells that
already engulfed the house. When I finally managed to straighten up, I started
to move forward, wanting only to escape the hell that was behind me and all the
while stumbling on the slippery vomit and blood that covered the floor.
“Hello, my sweet!” Two men stood in the doorway. Both of them were
tall and broad and they were similarly dressed in clothes suited to the
nobility.
I was about to praise God for their arrival and run into the safety of
their protection, when, like a beacon, the light from the moon flickered
through the windows of the farmhouse. It was only then that I noticed their
clothes, stained with a mixture of dried and still dripping blood, their eyes
shone with hunger, and their twisted smiles shone with evil amusement at the
sight of my bedraggled state.
The scream that had started to rise up in to my throat suddenly died,
the room grew black, and I collapsed to the floor, their wicked laughter
echoing in my ears and throughout the kitchen as I slid, helplessly, into the
engulfing darkness.
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