One of the best things about my father, was hunting together. Before I could walk into the house, he swopped me up in his arms. “My cherished daughter has returned home.” Hugging him back, I buried my face in his hair. Behind the veil of his black hair, my mother stood smiling. Her red hair neatly styled in a French inspired updo. She wore a low-cut mermaid crimson red dress. It almost looked painted on. Clapping her hands together, she smiled adoring at me. My father finally placed me back on my own two feet with a frown on his unageing face.
“Why the frown papa?”
“I smell death on you.” All the centuries my father has lived through, and yet his language was never without his Romanian accent.
“I am a vampire.” I said moving past him, making my way inside the house. Contrary to popular tales, my father did not live if in a castle. If he ever did. That was long ago. Instead, he opted for a mansion that sat in the center of Redrum Lake. Fitting.
“Alucard, I require a response. The death that clings to your skin it not of human death.” Hugging my mother, she whispered so low in my ear I doubt my father could hear her. “Tu as rencontré quelqu'un.” My mother never missed anything, ever. For as long as I could remember she knew every emotion I ever had. If I ate too much she knew, if killed someone on accident, she knew. What I did not know was if this was her vampire power, or mother power. Once when I asked her, she said, “My sweet darling I am the mère of a vampire.” The perfect non-answer. The thing about my mère is that she never repeats herself. She has trained my father and I to always listen when she speaks because if you miss it, depending on how important it is. The results could be deadly. So, asking her again would only result in silence. A new result with no clarification.
Pulling away from her I nodded my head. Curiosity spread across her lovely skin. I have always admired how nightfall could perfectly describe her. Placing one blood red nine-inch finger on her chin, she laughed deeply. It sounded like music playing in sanctuaries. “Darling, lets discuss the smell of death some other time.” She said to my father as she kissed him on his lips. My father’s dark eyes found mines and all I could do was shrug my shoulders.
“I am going to change; I will be back down shortly.” With that I left my parents in the foyer of our home.” Making my way upstairs I saw many of our human servants preparing. They polished white oak wood and cleaned glass frames. A few of the servant girls held interest in their eyes, others held horror when our eyes met. As I made my way to the top of the first set of stairs, I noticed the family portrait that once hung in the center of the wall was no longer there, neither was Persian black rug that covered most of this landing script.
This level of the house was nothing more than a gateway to led you to other sectors. Four black staircases, two descending, two accenting. The top left led to my wing. Running my fingers over the empty wall, I wondered what happened? My mother loved our family portraits, and my father cherished my younger days. Not because I was an easy kid, but because unlike him I changed. According to our family doctor I would continue to grow until eighteen. Unlike humans though my changes were drastic and random. Once I stayed the same for three years.
There was no evidence of a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound black gold framed portrait ever hanging here. The portrait would change; however, they all were framed the same way. The dark purple paint must have been new. Was this wall always dark purple? It’s very hard to remember the wall behind the massiveness of those portraits. I would ask my parents about it later, as I turned to head up to my room. Ethan stood on the fourth step head bowed. His brown hair was shorter than normal. A half a second later, I titled his head up to reveal the grin I knew I would receive.
Ethan is the most incredibly outward boring person I have ever met. He wasn’t unique in any sort of way physically. However, what makes him interesting is masochistic nature. My father gave him to me once my he knew I had a taste for violence. “The new girl tore it down. Once they told her exactly what she signed up for she went mad. She tore down the portrait and slit her wrist where you stood.” Ethan said.
Reaching out to touch his hair, I replied, “You cut it, why?” “The last time I played in the hunting games. I was only caught because you grabbed me by my hair.” Wait what? The Hunting games?
“The Hunting games? That’s not until…” After a quick calculation. Shit The Hunting games was indeed about to take place. How could I have missed it? Of course, my mother’s dress but to be fair she always dresses as if she is allergic to casual. The cleaning, the no questions from my parent’s as to why I am here. Of course they would assume it’s for The Hunting games. Fuck!
“Oubliée?” Ethan is American, but sometimes he spoke as if he has lived a life in French.
“Completely forgotten about it. Did the new girl make it?” “Oui, she is held up in that room.” Ethan pointed to the door at the top of the stairs to the left.
“When does the games begin?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Merci, find me tomorrow night before the game.” Ethan nodded, as he stepped to the side to descend the stairs. Making my way up the stairs the lanterns started to illuminate my path. One thing the movies did get right, was that vampires adored their darken rooms and low light. However, this sentiment only applied to my parents. Light or no light really made no difference to me. My vision never changed. As I passed by the bathroom that only existed so that the servants could do human things. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Plum red hair that fell to my shoulders in soft curls. My curly bangs covered most of my eyebrows. Elloren once said they were so thick so people would know they were there. Carmine eyes, better known as the devil’s amulets. They gave me true sight, most of the time there was nothing I could not see. A direct inherited trait from my father.
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Pushing my curls away from my face, I moved on. Moving pass the bathroom, the hallway began to open more. The hallway was simply a line of floor length gold windows. Each dressed in pepper grey velvet curtains. These curtains were steamed every day and replaced every year. The black vaulted ceilings might as well be as high as the heavens. A sequence of black, gold, and pepper grey candelabra’s cover them. Each candelabra containing a witch’s candle burning with an undying flame. The marble floors created their own illustrations from the dancing flames.
Before I knew I inherited my father’s eyes, I would watch these flames tell stories of their owners. Sometimes they would spell out names. That’s how I knew the name of the necromancer that birthed Elloren. How I knew Elloren would forever be important.
I attempted to show my parents, but they could not see. My father simply pushed my curls out of my face and kissed my forehead. At the time I did not understand the English he spoke to my mother. So, I kept the memory. When I replayed it years later, he had thanked her for giving him a child that could carry on his memories. Sometimes in my sleep I can see the hell he ruled over once. That’s how I know exactly the hell Elloren’s mother was birthed from.
Passing by Ethan’s room to the right, I could smell the scent of fear. He has missed me.
Opening the door to my room, nothing has changed in over ten years. No sign of dust or use. My California king bed was dressed in crispy white lien sheets. Four gold bed pillars reflected the moon from through the glass ceiling. Hearing the ocean through the white French doors soothed me. Running I jumped in the bed. It instantly latched on to me. Burying my face in the thick sheets the smell of home flooded me. Kicking off my shoes, I turned to lay on my back. The sky was too dusty now to see stars. But the moon shined through the dusk. Mistic and sleepy but it hung high and bright. Soon it would be dawn, I could feel it. My blood dreaded it. The sun would never be my friend, but it wasn’t my foe either. My blood came from a creature of the night, it was never meant to mingle with the sun. I have all my father’s strengths all my mother’s human capacities. Beautiful silent violence, that’s what Ethan called me the day we met.
The vibration from my phone pulled me from my thoughts. Without looking I answered, I figured it would be Elloren. “Bonjour.”
“If you cut your hair, like the girl in this movie would it return to its length instantly?”
He spoke the question in French as if he was a native. His voice mellow but firm. Did he always sound this way? Up until this moment I couldn’t remember what he sounded like earlier on elevator. I only knew what he sounded like now. And now was enough.
“Non”, I answered sitting up. “I am allowed to change. My mother was human. Humanity never leaves those of us who are born into what we become.”
“You were born a vampire? Not created by your father?”
“Yes, humans have power some of them aware some of them not so much. My mother wanted to be a mother, so she became one. That’s her power, doesn’t matter that my father turned me into a vampire before she gave birth.” Taking off my scarf, I waited on the next question. He is curious about me. Which led me to believe the words Elloren mother spoke. “You have captured the heart of a Victorian.” “Your original father was human?”
“Yes, however my father’s blood erased him from my genetic makeup.”
“Can you create or produce another vampire?”
“Yes and no. I cannot turn a person into something they do not wish to become. I can infect the body but not the soul. As for produce another vampire, I am not entirely sure, however my instinct tells me no.”
For a moment I couldn’t tell if he was still on the other end. His silence was absolute. I have never heard anything like it.
Pacing my room waiting for him to say something, dawn was fast approaching. I needed to rest in my coffin and my parents would be up soon to check in. Especially since I told them I would return.
“How did you know the movie I referred to?”
“Everyone who is curious about vampires almost always start with “Interview with a Vampire.”
“The little girl with the red hair, did you behave like that once you were told what you are?”
“Non, I can change.”
“Your mother is now a vampire?”
“Oui.”
“Merci.”
“Je vous en prie. May I ask you something?”
“You have earned three questions tonight.” I only needed one answered, but I would hold on to that little detail.
“Only three? I practically gave you vampire gold information.”
“Doubtful St. Vincent.” Rolling my eyes and sitting on the end of the sea green velvet sofa that faced my white oak bookshelf I asked, “Why did you tell me to mention your name? And by the way it worked. Falling back onto the couch with my legs draped over the back of the sofa and my head hanging over the front. I could feel the first rays of dawn starting to approach the horizon on my skin.
“Your friend, she is a Blackgate. I knew her mother once, before she gave birth to Elloren. Her cruelty extends to everyone. My sister spared her life once. Her releasing you is now a debt paid.
“Is that okay with your sister to use her leverage on me?” I couldn’t hear him thinking, but I knew he was. I noticed he did that. Took his time answering questions and digesting information.
“Oui. If she is undeniably upset about it, I will take her on a trip of guilt.”
“You mean guilt trip?”
“Phrasing doesn’t matter, meaning does.”
“It’s okay to not know the correct phrasing.” Before I could ask my last question there was a knock at the door. “Victorian, I must go. Can I call you Monday night?”
“Oui.” With that we disconnected our call. “Come in.” Flipping off the couch my parents entered my room. “Was that the someone on the phone Alucard?” Nodding my head my mother smiled.
“Well, I do hope one day we are worthy enough to meet them.” My father said. After they gave me the rundown of the events scheduled for tonight, we said our good mornings and off to our coffins we went.