Living With a Murderer

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by ForeverRed, Apr 17, 2016.

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  1. It was the dead of night, as a group of church members stood in the preachers home, all in a room they have to come to claim as there council room. The house was old, having been there for quite some time, and it was Victorian themed. With huge chandeliers, huge fireplaces, yet small closets. In the council room, six members sat at a table. Faces were pale, and beaded with cold sweat. Knuckles were white, from clenched fist. Eyes were darting at any creak or unexpected sound. The time was near. The time to choose a Sacrifice.

    A woman, with brown hair that was laced with a few whites, looked at the preacher. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she opened her mouth hesitantly before saying, "....W-..Why do we have to d-do this? Th-This is sick...Do we even know what he d-does to our sacrifices? U-Ugh....I get sick just thinking of it...." Whimpered he middle aged woman, her face turning a shade of green.

    "Don't be a fool!" A bald man stated, sitting a cross from her. His thick eyebrows that resembled gray caterpillars, were furrowed, angry that she even said such a thing. "Why do we do this? Why do we do this?! To protect our town! Do you want him to come down and kill us all?! By sending a pure maiden, we are saving our town for the next two decades! We need to do this." Snarled the old man, crossing his arms over his chest.

    "I don't believe I was asking you, Richard! I was talking to the Preacher. And why do our sacrifices only last for twenty years? Remember our last sacrifice? Amber? She was only twenty two when we sent her...She should still be alive! She would only be forty two, what happened to her?!"

    "There's no reason to ask what happened, Caroline. You should know what that monster does....He's a vile, and impure creature from the gates of Hell. But we can't do anything...In order to protect our town, we must send someone....Please Preacher, who should we send now?" Asked a woman with literally perfect ray hair. It was cut strictly at her shoulders. Not one split end, or fly away. It was literally perfect. Her eyes were a bright blue color, and she stared at the preacher, wondering who he was going to pick. "...I offer my grand daughter, her name is Mila. I believe she is pure."

    "Ha, I even heard stories about your whore of a grand daughter." Richard growled, earning a piercing glare from the old woman with perfect hair.
  2. "Please, calm yourselves. This is a difficult enough time without us fighting among ourselves." A voice interrupted. It was quiet, but firm and the others in the room yielded to it immediately. All eyes turned to the preacher, who seemed to be mulling something over. The waxy yellow light shining above the table gave his features an otherworldly glow. His dark brown hair was thinning at the temples and his thin lips were pulled tight with stress. He spoke finally, turning towards the regal woman. "I have had most of the youth in this town in confession and I have heard their sins. Including your granddaughter, Evelyn. Even if she had lied and not told me about her activities, I would have known of them. Talk gets around a small town like this. She is not suitable." In any other context wry smiles and quiet chuckles may have followed the remarks. In this circumstance, however, all was silent.

    Now was not the time for laughter.

    Evelyn settled back in her chair was the air of easy grace that she always carried, but her hands shook with minute trembles and her eyes were relieved. "What about Angela Wiess?" Asked Franklin. He was thin to the point of emancipation and had a nose like a bird's beak. Silver spectacles glittered as he spoke, reflecting back the flower print wall paper behind him. There was a quiet murmur of consideration as each member considered it.

    "I b-believe she is pure." Spoke Caroline. Her face was even more ashen, as if she had just volunteered herself as the sacrifice. Her dark hair was pinned back in a bun and a cartoon coffee cup was pinned to her sweater. "I've seen her in the cafe sometimes a-and I don't think the poor thing has many friends." Silence followed this. The woman had been kind in her estimation of Angela, for the girl had no friends at all. She was a quiet and mousy thing whose own parents barely noticed.

    "It would be easy to cover up her disappearance." Richard said bluntly. Caroline dropped her head in her hands. Around the table there were short nods and resolute faces. No decision had been made yet, however. They all looked to the preacher for guidance first.

    "It cannot be Angela. She is not pure." The preacher sighed. His face was gaunt. "I have had her in confession saying otherwise." There was brief surprise, then dejection from those around the table.

    "Who then?" Hissed a blonde woman.

    "My daughter." The preacher said, setting his jaw as if preparing to go to war. "I know she is pure. I am sure of it." Looks of shock and disbelief passed around the room. To volunteer a granddaughter was one thing. To volunteer one's own daughter... "Does anyone object?" The preacher asked.

    No one did.

    Later, long after the other's had left and the sun began to tint the horizon, the preacher stayed rooted to his chair. His head lay heavy in his hands and his shoulders drooped like a man with a terrible weight on his soul. "For the good of the town." He said, like a prayer.
  3. It was time. It was time for the sacrifice. As the sun slowly began to rise into the sky, waking a few early birds up, the day to collect the unadulterated sacrifice was officially upon the preacher. It was a Saturday, so no children or teens were awake, finally being able to sleep in after a long week of school. The morning was so quiet. Too quiet, and there wasn't a single cloud to blemish the perfect blue sky. The morning seemed all too faultless. Surely that was going to end soon.

    While many slept, an onyx colored car slowly drove through the small, and close knit town. All the windows were tinted, so tinted that it would cause people to wonder how anyone could even drive in that car. In the back of the car, he sat. Dressed in nice black pants, along with a baby blue button up, that was tucked into his pants, the vampire leaned against the car door, looking out the window. Human eyes may not be able to see out such heavily tinted windows, but his eyes could. At first looks, the vampire was...Breathtakingly gorgeous. His skin was unblemished with any marks, or moles. His complexion was fair, and he looked as though he didn't have pores. His face? Looked as though the most talented artist came together, and made the most beautiful man. His looks were definitely unmatched. His shoulders were broad, and he was packing in muscle. His perfect brows were furrowed, as though he was deep in thought. "....I swear, this town so uniform. It's like a time capsule. Never changing, standing still." Uttered Clyde to himself. It had been twenty years since his last visit. And the only thing different? Newer cars, and a few houses for a paint job. Other than that? Nothing. The same families who have lived there still were there. With newer additions to their family. Of course a few had died, but the town still looked he same.

    "Master...We should be arriving to the preacher's house soon...." Said an old man who was chauffeuring the vampire. His voice was gruff with age, and wore a formal black tuxedo. He was balding at the top of his head, but white hair went from ear to ear around his head. The man was thin, and lanky. His face was so gaunt, you could see the bones in it clearly. He had beady narrow eyes, the color of dried grass. Under those oddly colored eyes were dark bags. The man looked dead, or close to it. He had a hunch in his back, and his hands often shook from his age.

    His words broke the vampire from his daze, and Clyde answered him with a simple 'hm'. Once arriving outside of the house, Clyde grimaced at it. This was sickening. Why didn't anything ever change in this damn town. The house looked exactly the same as twenty years ago. The old man got out the car first, going to the back, and opening the door for his Master with a bow. Murmuring a quick thank you to the old man, Clyde made his way up the porches steps, before knocking on he wooden door. Without waiting for an answer, the vampire walked in, without an invitation. Clyde didn't need one. It was a myth that vampires couldn't go into a house without an invitation. It was also a myth that sunlight burned them. But a stake through the heart? Yes that killed them. It was just hard as hell to actually kill a vampire, with their speed and all.

    Walking into the house with the old man close behind him, a smirk found its way to Clyde's lips. "Father? That's what the town calls you right? Well forgive me Father for just coming into your home. But the time has come." He called to the preacher.
  4. "I'm a mess." Abigail Danvers muttered to herself, as she sat fully clothed in her bathtub at three in the morning. The trapezoidal light fixture over her head glowed a dim and flickering yellow. The bulb would need to be replaced soon. And I won't be here when it does, Abby thought grimly. The bathroom door, which led into her bedroom, hung accusingly open. There was an empty bottle of margarita mix lying at the side of the tub which she'd been steadily draining over the course of the night. It was, of course, alcohol-free, she even used it to fill the bird feeder in the back yard. Still, there was something satisfying about drinking it with narrowed eyes and thinly pressed lips. She felt like a world weary detective or a jaded femme fatale when she did. Her blue polka dot pajamas may have ruined the effect a bit.

    It's today, the day the vampire comes. Abby felt crazy for even thinking it. She hadn't been able to even say the word vampire out loud since the night her father had told her last week. A week, that was all the time he'd given her to adjust to this madness. To except that the things that went bump in the night were real, and one of them was coming for her. A dark and bitter part of herself was surprised her father hadn't just shoved her off to the creature without a single word of explanation. A small part of Abby despised these hateful thoughts, but the larger part relished them. It was so much easier to feel hatred, than hurt or betrayal. Or worst of all, fear. She needed something to channel her emotions into or she'd go crazy. Well, crazier than she already was, sitting in her bathtub with a bottle of empty margarita mix and rivulets of dried mascara on her cheeks.

    Abby had put it on for the mascara on for that express effect. She wanted the dramatic impact it would have when she inevitably cried. Wanted it to run dark and ugly down her face. This way Abby could pretend 'Abigail' was merely a character in a book or movie. She could pretend that she was an observer, merely peering in on this Abigail's mess of a life, rather than living it. Abby knew that eventually she'd have to get out of the tub and wash the mascara and tears of her face. She'd have change out of her pajamas and into something that gave her a semblance of normalcy. She'd have to pack her things in the suitcase her father had left on her bed, still empty, days later. Abigail would have to do what she always did: deal. But for now she content to wallow in her own self pity.

    An hour later, with the beginnings of a headache starting at the base of her neck, Abby dragged herself out of the tub and ran the water for a shower. Outside she could hear the first stirrings of birds and she wondered if the shower would wake up her father. She hoped so. She stepped under the hot stream, letting it wash away all the visible signs of her distress. Her head was dizzy with steam and consuming nothing but sugar in the past twelve hours. When she looked in the mirror her face was pale from lack of sleep, emphasizing the dark circles under her eyes. She didn't bother covering them up with makeup. She was not going to dress up for that monster.

    While she waiter for her long hair to dry, she carefully folded things into the suitcase, sorting out what she could and couldn't afford to leave behind. Her clothes were the least of her worries, and she shoved them into tight balls to make room for the more important things. They would no doubt be wrinkled, but Abby couldn't bring herself to care. Her phone and charger went in next, though she was unsure if she'd even get to use them. She didn't bother with toiletries. She didn't think she'd live long enough to need them, and if she did the least the stupid vampire could do was buy her new ones. Lastly she packed her most prized possessions. Photo albums, favorite books and childhood knickknacks were all placed with reverence and care. When Abby zipped up the suitcase, at felt as if she was pulling the air from her lungs. This is really happening.

    She sunk down in the corner and just glanced around her childhood bedroom. Nostalgia mixed with sadness as the memories of the room rushed through her. As she lost herself in the past, the sun crept through the gauzy curtains, turning her hair a brilliant amber. Finally she heard heard a car pull up. A knock at the door. Abby stood, a sudden numbness overtaking her, and stepped into the hallway. She made her way down the Gone With the Wind-esque staircase. As a little girl she'd stand here and pretend to be a snowboarder at the top of a slope or a princess descending into a ball. Now each step down made her heart leap into her throat.

    She kept her eyes trained on her feet, looking at no one and nothing. It was only when she reached the bottom that she glanced at her father, allowing her hair to shield the vampire. His shoes gleamed up at her, she was surprised he wasn't wearing a cape. Abby met her father's eyes. There were circles under them, just as there were under her own. He seemed to have aged years in just a few days. Guilt made his shoulders droop. Abby felt tears burn at her eyes. For a minute the circumstances burned away, she was just a girl about to be separated from her father. She gripped him in a tight hug, holding on for all she was worth. "I love you." She murmured. "I'll miss you so much." His shaking arms encircled her and the two of them held each other for a long moment.

    Eventually Abby pulled away. She would likely never forgive her father for this, but she would also never stop loving him. This would likely be the last she'd ever see him. She did not want it to be a parting built on hatred and betrayal. Abby picked up her suitcase, still refusing to meet the vampire's gaze. "I am ready."
  5. Clyde stood at the bottom of the staircase, hearing the girl walk down it, in such a slow matter. They all did that, sacrifice after sacrifice. They all walked down the steps so slow, some crying, some with no emotion at all. Amber was probably the only one who was different from his sacrifices.

    Amber was his last sacrifice. A rare beauty to the town. She had deep olive colored skin, with these amazing green eyes, with those yellow golden specks in them. She had dark raven locks, that fell in loose waves, almost always tamed as it laid on her shoulders. She was only 5'2, though she had an attitude of a woman who was 6'2. She was determined, and in her eyes when she was walking down the steps of her home was not sadness, or hatred. But confidence. She didn't look at him with fear like his other sacrifices. No, but she looked at him like he was the one supposed to be scared. Clyde loved that the most about that girl. That amazing, determined girl. Such a shame. Her life taken from her so early on.

    Pushing those memories away, Clyde looked at the girl, watching as her and her father hugged. Ugh, humans were such dramatic creatures. But he always allowed them to have their time. He didn't know why they needed to hug their loved ones one last time. It didn't make sense to him. Wouldn't it be harder to pull away, then to just come along and not look back?

    As his new sacrifice pulled away from her father, he finally got a good look at her. She wasn't meeting his eyes, hit he could see she was young. Younger than Amber when she was sent to him. She had dark bags under her eyes, she probably didn't get any sleep. Pity. Humans were so fragile. From just missing sleep, they looked so weak. "Well let's go. I would like to get home. We'll discuss the rules of your new life in the car. Good day, Father." Grumbled the vampire, easily exiting the home. The old man, who stood like a shadow to the vampire, moved to take her suitcase.

    "Let me get this for you, young miss." His gruff voice mumbled. Walking her out the home, he shur the door behind him, walkingnover to the car. Putting the suitcase in the trunk of the rather lavish vehicle, he closed the trunk, opening the backseat door for his Master, and the young girl.

    Once seated in the backseat of the car, Clyde gripped her chin, forcing her to tilt her head up, so he could get a look of her eyes. He wanted to see if she had that determination. That determination that Amber held. It was a slim chance. Amber was one of a kind. No one would be like her. But it didn't just to check.

    "You're young....Very young. Hmph....What is your name human?"
  6. The vampire was abrupt the first time he spoke, impatient even. He clearly had no desire to linger here. Well that was too bad. Her life was falling apart and she was about to become his literal sacrifice. He could at least allow her the time to say goodbye to her only family. Abby didn't cry, she felt to emotionally drained for that. She just wanted to curl up and sleep for a long, long time and let the world pass her by. Unfortunately, Abby knew she couldn't do that. She couldn't even begin to imagine what horrors awaited her, but she wouldn't take them lying down. She had to be prepared for whatever was coming.

    When he father had first told her about the vampire that cursed their town, Abby had thought he was joking. She laughed at his strange joke, a bit confused. Her father had a rather poor sense of humor. His face had remained drawn and serious, however. Abby had stopped laughing and had instead grown upset. "What are you talking about? Is this some kind of joke?" She'd growled. She'd been afraid, not that the vampire was real, but that her father was growing crazy. "Is this some kind of metaphor? Another one of your lessons?" She'd twirled the cross around her neck out of habit. The metal was warm from being pressed to her skin, and she spun it between her fingers nervously.

    It was not a joke, it was not a metaphor. Her father went on to tell her one of the most unbelievable tales of her life. About vampires, bargains and virgin sacrifices. Her father intended her to be a virgin sacrifice. Even thinking about it made the tips of her ears go red. She didn't want to talk about her virginity with anyone, least of all her father. Once she'd figured out he was serious, she'd grown upset and they'd had one of the worst fights she could remember. Even worse than when he'd forbidden her from going out with Jason Murson in middle school or held keep her back from the class trip to the water-park because he didn't approve of her bikini. He'd been overprotective to the point of smothering her whole life and now he was going to throw her to this man like a piece of meat?

    An older man began to load her things into the surprisingly fancy car. Abby mumbled a thank you out of habit and gazed at her home, soaking in every detail. She wanted to remember everything. When Abby climbed into the back of the vehicle, she was a bit surprised that the vampire climbed in next to her. A moment later his chilled fingers forced up her chin. Abby frowned, refusing to meet his eyes had been a quiet type of rebellion.

    When she met his gaze, Abby drew in a startled breath. She had been expecting him to look like Gary Oldman in Dracula. Instead she'd gotten Lestat de Lioncourt. He was stunning with artfully sculpted features and raven-dark hair. Abby suddenly regreted her decision to forgo makeup. "It's Abby. What's your name, vampire?" She tried to summon the casual disdain of Scarlett O'Hara as she said it. Elizabeth Benett's poise, at least.
    #6 FlourPower, Apr 25, 2016
    Last edited: Apr 25, 2016
  7. Hearing her say vampire made the corner of his lips curved up into a smirk. She had humor? Ah, she was interesting. His gorgeously blue eyes stared into here's taking in her features. His eyes would be envied by the ocean itself for being so blue. "Clyde." He answered,letting go of her chin. "You are to call me Master Clyde, or just Master. Which ever is more pleasing to you." He dismissively mumbled. "Hmm....Charles, make sure Abby here eats when we arrive home. I doubt she's been eating right lately, I can't have her passing out." Commanded the man, his eyes still on Abby.

    "Yes Master." Answered the old man in the front, easily driving through the town.

    Clyde chilled fingers then went to her wrist. Gently he brought her hand up,examining her hands. He had to do everything gentle. Humans were like glass. So easily broken, if not handle with care. He never knew they were so fragile, until he himself became a vampire. Taking her finger, he opened his mouth, showing his needle like fangs, and one simple prick from one easily cut her finger. Licking the droplet of blood from her finger, he taste it a bit, sampling it. She had potential, her blood was naturally sweet,but from her lack of sleep, and eating it lost it's zing.

    "Hmm....Feed her something sweet too....That'll do." Commanded Clyde, and the old man, who's name was Charles, answered with an almost scheduled 'yes Master'. Letting go of her wrist, his fingers went to her cheek, his thumb grazing over the bag under her right eye. "Hmph. I swear you humans are so weak. Once she's fed, Charles, make sure she sleeps. She needs it."

    Charles didn't know how he was supposed to force this young lady to sleep, but he obeyed anyway. Soon they pulled up to Clyde's home. The minute they came to a stop was when Clyde easily exited the car, not waiting for Charles to open it. It was obvious he wanted to hurry into the home. He never liked being in daylight to long. Charles went to Abigail's side, and opened the door for her, allowing her out. He then got her bag from the trunk. Clyde's home wasn't some Victorian styled mansion. Nor was it some creepy dusty home. No. It was a beautiful, nearly flawless modern mansion. His hedges were trimmed to the finnnest. Weeping willow trees were lined on either aide of his driveway. The home was massive, and so open. So many windows. Charles looked at the girl, and gave her a kind smile. "Well Young Miss. Welcome home. I'll show you to your room, then I'll get you something to eat, like Master says, okay?"
  8. Abby almost choked on her incredulity. Master? Is this guy for real? She almost said something about it, but one glance at the vampire next to her and she shut her mouth. Who knew what he would do to her if she disobeyed him so openly. Abby wasn't in a gambling mood so she instead glanced out the window. She was a bit surprised that he noticed or even cared that she wasn't eating much. Probably because her blood wouldn't taste as good. Abby shuddered, realizing that was exactly why he card. This day, that she'd been dreading so fiercely that she'd become sick to her stomach at the though of it, was as miserable as it had promised to be. The anger at her father she'd managed to push away came back in full force now.

    At the touch of the vampire's hands on her wrist, Abby jumped and whipped her head back towards him. Her neck gave a twinge of protest at the abrupt movement. She was going to give herself whiplash at this rate. He was surprisingly careful as he examined her hand, though if he had been rough he probably would have broken the bone. Or would he...? She had no idea which of the myths about vampires were true or false. Abby pushed down both her curiosity now was not the time.

    Clyde opened his mouth, revealing a lethal looking fang. It was the kind of tooth a wolf or bear might use to tear meet and as he brought her hand to his mouth, a cold sweat broke out on her neck. Instead of tearing out her wrist and then her fluttering throat, he simply pricked her finger. After a thoughtful second, he released her hand and she yanked it back to her side.

    Before Abby could calm her fluctuating heart, Clyde put a hand on her face- father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name- causing her pulse to jump so high that she thought she might go into cardiac arrest. He hadn't even bit her yet and she was already close to death. In any other circumstances, she would have been overjoyed to even talk to someone as breathtaking as Clyde. If he had touched her cheek, she would have been smiling for weeks. But because of who, what, he was, she couldn't let her guard down. There was no affection in that touch, no kindness.

    Just a predator looking at his prey.

    Like Dorian Gray, with a face that made angels weep and a soul that even demons would flinch away from.

    Abby managed to avoid looking at or speaking to anyone in the car for the rest of the ride. The first glimpse she got of the vampire's home was gorgeous and surprisingly modern. A sea of glass glittered out at her. She wondered if there was a room with a coffin and a sacrificial altar somewhere in there. A room with a drain and a rubber mat.

    The older man, Charles, opened her door for her and Abby squinted as she stepped out into the bright sunlight. It was a sharp contrast to the darkness inside the tinted car. She regarded him warily. She seemed nice enough, but he was also standing passively by as she was... was kidnapped the right word? Who knew what kind of things Charles had allowed his 'master' to do. Still, he and Clyde might be the only other people in the mansion. Abby would grow lonely very quickly if she had no one to talk to. Better to make allies than enemies. "Alright, thank you."
  9. "It's my pleasure Young Miss. Please, follow me." Said the old man as he made his way up to the mansion. A maid opened the door, her bright green eyes looking st the girl excitedly.

    "Is this her? Ugh, she is just a doll!" The maid squealed excitedly. The maid seemed young, maybe early twenties, with bright red hair, and freckles rapidly dashes across her cheeks. The girl had a cute, small button nose, that was a bit red, along with her cheeks. She was barely five foot, and she had a small round fave, with plump cheeks. Her lips were small, and were a pale pink, and she was a thin thing. She opened he double doors wider and bowed before grabbing the girls hands with an excited giggle. She seemed human. Her hands weren't freezing like Carlisle's. "I'm Stevie! I'm so happy t'meet ya suga~" She had a thick southern twang in her voice, and her eyes were just brimming with excitement.

    "....Stevie, tell the chef to start something to eat....I'm going to show the Young Miss here to her room." Charles spoke up, irritation transparently clear in the old man's voice.

    "Don't you worry bout that now Charles! I'll show her. Us girls can bond~" Giggled the girl as she took the bag from Charles, and took Abby's hand, leading her up one of the grand steps. "So, ya seen Master Clyde? He's a hogtie ain't he? What's ya name darlin'?" She giggled.
  10. Abby had worried about being alone in the mansion, but the first person she saw was a girl about her own age. Freckles painted her pleasantly rounded cheeks and her hair was the lovely red color Abby had always envied in other girls. The girl, she must have been a maid, had a beaming smile on her pretty face. As Abby neared, the girl grabbed her hands with an excited laugh. The gesture in itself was incredibly charming and Abby found herself smiling back. It would be hard not to like this girl.

    When she spoke, Abby discovered that she was Southern. She wasn't sure from exactly where. She'd always been bad with accents. Abby amused by how excited Stevie was. It was almost pouring out of her. Maybe she didn't get many female companionship here either? Charles seemed disapproving of the maid's bubbliness, and Abby wondered if it was affectionate disapproval or true dislike. She'd find out soon enough, when she was inevitably inducted into the fold of house politics. If I survive that long, that is.

    Abby let Stevie pull her through the gorgeous house, letting her eyes soak in all the luxurious details. She didn't bother trying to learn escape routes. She'd committed to coming here to protect her town. It was too late to turn back now. Besides, she probably wouldn't make it past the front door. "I'm Abby, it's nice to meet you." She answer. She wasn't quite sure what a 'hogtie' was, but she could probably guess. "He's alright I guess." Calling a face like that alright was a crime, but Abby said it anyways. "Um, Stevie, if you don't mind me asking... how'd you end up working for him? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
  11. "Hmm? Ah Charles is ma uncle. Well ma papa's uncle, but...Same thing right? Well anyway, when ma papa died, I didn't have anyone but Charles, so I came to live here and been here since!" The girl grinned. "Its been the most interestin' three years of ma life sugar plum!" She giggled, and pulled her to a room that had huge double for made of blackwood. "This is ya room darlin'." She giggled.

    Abby's new room made her old room look like a box. One of the walls were made of glass, having a great view of the forest. The room itself was a nude gray color, with black and white paintings. The bed was in the middle of the room, and it was huge. The comforters were white and fluffy, and had at least nine pillows on it. She had a huge walk in closet that was filled with designer clothes and shoes. Stevie looked at the room with a smile, and did a little spin. "This room is ma all time favorite~" She giggled and walked to the closet, pulling Abby. "Clyde just bought these. He bought a bunch of different sizes, so whatever you don't fit, just put them in a bag and we'll getcha sum more." She told her, and looked at Abby with a bright smile. "Yer so lucky! Gettin' all these clothes, and plus this super cool room!" Stevie picked up a beautiful tan heel, huffing a bit.

    "And plus ya get to spend so much time with that Greek God." She pouted jealously, before looking at Abby. "Wanna know a secret? I heard Clyde's last sacrifice was his favorite. I heard from other maids that the two were lovers. But Amber-"

    "Lunch is served. Stevie, let's let the Young Miss get something to eat, before you pester her again." Charles grumbled the the doorway with a sigh. "...And we don't speak about Amber. Master wouldn't be pleased."
    #11 ForeverRed, May 1, 2016
    Last edited: May 1, 2016
  12. So Charles was her uncle then? Abby felt relieved. It was much less sinister than some of the scenarios she'd been imagining. She liked Stevie, and didn't want the maid to be a prisoner here any more than she wanted to be herself. "I'm sorry about your dad." Abby told her. She didn't know what it was like to loose a parent, since her mother had died in childbirth and Abby obviously had no memories of her, but she did know the pains of living without a parent. She couldn't imagine, however, what it was like to be without either of your parents. Well, until this morning anyways. It was so depressing that Abby almost burst into tears.

    Not wanting to look weak instead of someone she just met, she examined her new room instead. Abby had been half expecting to be locked up in some sort of dungeon, but this room was far from it. It had all the modern elegance as the houses's exterior and then some. The far wall was entirely made up of glass and looked out onto a stunning view of the forest. She could imagine herself curled up beside it with a cup of tea and a good book. It was as if she had walked into a magazine spread.


    When Stevie mentioned it, Abby turned to the walk in closet. She hadn't even noticed it up to the point, but it was just as spectacular as the rest of the room. It was filled to the brim with a variety of expensive looking clothing. Her jaw dropped when she glanced at one of the tags. Girl's at her high school had paid fortunes for the knock offs of brands like these. Abby ran a hand through rippling silk and creamy cashmere with a whistle. "If I'd have known this was here, I wouldn't have brought so much clothes." She said, but knew it wasn't true. There were tons of things in here that we probably both her style and size, but there was something about wearing her favorite dress or pair of jeans that was just... comforting.

    Lovers? Abby thought with shock as Stevie mentioned the last sacrifice. She hadn't thought Clyde was capable of love, especially not loving a human. A sultry vampire woman straight out of a film noir, perhaps, but a mere mortal? It seemed like the sort of thing that a vampire would consider below them. Charles interrupted before she could speak, but she shot Stevie a 'We'll talk later' look. "Uh sure, lunch sounds good. Lead the way."
  13. Stevie pouted a bit, jutting out her bottom lip when she was scolded by her uncle. The pixie like girl went to open her mouth to say something to her uncle, but Charles instead said, "How about you tend to the garden? I believe the flowers haven't been watered."

    "But Charles, we have sprinklers." She huffed, crossing her arms.

    "Tend to the garden Stevie." He answered, before leading Abigail to the dinning room. "I am so sorry for her impoliteness. She is a hyper for, but she is very friendly. I promise she means no harm." Charles gruff voice said once you ear shot of the girl. It was obvious he cared for her, she was his niece after all. "You must not ask Master about Amber, or say her name around him. It causes him to...Be a bit upset."

    Doing hey arrived to the grand dinning room. The dinning room was a creamy white color, with painting hung on the wall. The paintings wee complex, but intriguing. There was a large glass table, with flowers in the center, on one side of the table was a lunch fit for a king (or in this case a queen). Charles pulled out a chair for the girl, helping her sit down, before pushing the chair back in. Bowing, he excused himself, before allowing her to eat in peace.

    Shortly after his exit, Clyd entered, holding a book in his left hand. His eyes slid over to her, looking at her before saying. "Hello Abby. Did you like your room? I hope it was pleasing."
  14. "It's fine." Abby said, as they walked away from the still pouting Stevie. "I didn't think she was impolite at all. I enjoyed her company." She knew very few people with so much energy. Because of the energy, it was even more surprising that the girl worked for Clyde. Abby would have thought living in the household of a vampire would dim someone's personality, like a flower left in the shade. The energetic maid, however, seemed no worse for the wear.

    Abby wondered what the effect on herself might be. She was already fairly dramatic and prone to mood swings, so staying here probably couldn't make it any worse. Still... please don't let me turn out like Margot Tenenbaum. God forbid, Timon of Athens. That play was terrible!

    "Got it, don't mention Amber." Abby said. She wondered what Charles meant by upset. The answer was probably not 'sit in your bathtub and drink an entire bottle of margarita mix', but rather something like"rip out your puny mortal throat'. Personally, Abby liked her throat inside of her body.They entered a dining room just as extraordinary as the rest of the house. It was laden with delicious looking food and she blushed as her stomach gave a loud growl. Charles helped her into a chair then bowed, actually bowed, and left. It was like she had walked into another world.

    Abby stared at the food for a minute before helping herself. She didn't see why it would be drugged, and as long as she avoided any pomegranate seeds then she should be alright. She jumped a bit when Clyde entered the room, nearly dropping her fork. He was just as stunning as she'd remembered. "It was really nice, uh, thanks." Abby looked down at the food. "Was I supposed to wait?"
  15. Clyde studied her every move, like a student, and she would be the book. A low cackle rumbled from his broad, muscled chest, and he waved his have effortlessly as he shook his head. "No, Abby. Why would you wait? It's not like I would eat anything." The vampire answered her, as he slowly moved to take a seat in the stylish chair. His eyes never moved from the teenage girl. He studied everything about her, her eyes, her hair, her lips, her cheeks, he even breathed in deep breaths to remember her scent.

    "So, Abby, I'm assuming that's short for Abigail? Gorgeous name, really. I never had an Abigail as a sacrifice. So, congrats on being my first Abigail. I came to join you for lunch today, no only to make sure you eat, but to...hmm, clear the air for you." Clyde combed his long pale fingers, through his chocate brown hair, sweeping the hair that touched his forehead, away. Those blue pools of his finally looked away from her, glancing at a painting that hung on his wall.

    "Now, I know you probably thought up the worst scenarios in that little brain of yours. I'm sure you thought you would be in a dark, scary home, with torches, coffins, and you would be chained up, while some Dracula looking man viciously attacked your neck. But, I would like to think I have much more class than that." Stated the vampire, standing up from his seat. Those long legs began to stride over to the painting, a quizzical look on his face. It was as if he was trying to understand the painting on his wall, that was just a bunch of shapes. "You will be treated with respect here. The servants here will treat you with the utmost importance, and care. You will be fed three meals a day, and you will be dressed in the best clothes money can buy. This is your home, not your prison. We will go on trips, to islands and such. You will be given the most luxurious life, you can think of. And all you have to do? A simple few payments. With your blood. I will drink from your wrist. The mark will be easier to hide than your neck. I won't drain you, only taking a few sips, just enough to survive." Answered Clyde, as he turned to her.

    "But...There are things you are to never do. Calling your family is one of them. Think of it like....You died, and your reborn into someone else. Your family no longer exist. Your old friends? No longer exist. Your old life was only a dream now. Another thing you are to never do. Unless I tell you about old sacrifices, you do not ask me. I do not like speaking of the past." Walking over to her, those cold fingers of hers cradled her chin, making her look up at him. "Because I stolen your life from you, I would like to give you one, that is much better. Now, I understand you humans can't live without socializing, which is so very odd, but you will have someone to talk to. Like that girl Stevie is your age. And also, when we do go on trips, wherever we end up going, you can make some friends there. But remember, no old friends. Besides, I'm more than sure your father broke the news to them today about your death." Said the vampire as he let go of her cheek. "Do you have any questions for me?"
  16. Ah, of course he wouldn't eat anything. Besides the blood of virgin's, of course. That was one myth confirmed. She wondered how many vampire ledgends were actually true. Once she felt more comfortable around Clyde, assuming that would ever happen, she'd have to ask. There were so many variations by this point that she wasn't even sure where to start. She'd have to make a list. Abby chewed uncomfortably as Clyde studied her from across the table. She wished he could eat, simply because of how disconcerting it was to sit at a table with someone and be the only one eating. After a moment she set her fork down.

    "It's short for Abigal, but I don't go by that. Just Abby." She said, neither meek nor assertive. In fact her tone was rather flat, like she was reciting the words from a textbook. She fidgeted as he described the dark, gloomy hell hole that he assumed she had imagined his house to be. In fact, that was exactly what she'd imagined it to be like. In a way this sleek, modern dwelling was even worse. A beautiful, glittering thing to cover up the ugly and rotting thing underneath. This house is essentially a Stepford wife, Abby thought, but didn't smile.

    At his next words, Abby sucked in a sudden breath. Her fingers curled into anxious fists, embedded themselves into the denim of her jeans. She'd had so little time, so little time to process and plan and cope since her father had told her about the sacrifice.

    She'd been so full of grief and anger and betrayal, she couldn't think beyond her own misery and she hadn't even— hadn't even considered what the people she knew would think. Her friends and teachers, even her own family members would think she was dead.


    God, it was so horrible. Would they have a funeral for her? Would they lower an empty casket into the ground thinking they were burying her? Would her own father hold the ceremony? Abby thought she might be sick right there, all over the fancy glass table. She couldn't contact anyone ever again, not even her father. Dead.

    Suddenly Clyde was close, much too close, and his cold fingers lifted her chin. Abby shuddered, not trying to stop it. She wanted him to see how much she feared him, how much she hated him in that moment. He was so beautiful, even more so up close, but there was something wrong about it. He was too flawless, too perfect to be human. Like a god.

    Or a demon.

    "Can I go back to my room? I'm tired. I haven't been getting much sleep lately."
  17. Gorgeous was an understatement. Godly just might suffice. Up close, Al his beauty was clear. He had no blemishes, no mistakes. His hair was thick, and his scent? Oh he smelled just divine. Like fresh honey suckle.slowly, those full lips of his pulled into a sexy smile. "My dearest Abby...You haven't finished your meal." His tone was lathered in sweetness. Slowly he pulled away from her.

    Her heart was beating as fast as a hummingbird's. Any faster and Clyde was sure she would have a heart attack. "My dear, it would give me the greatest pleasure if we could be friends. So, don't be so frightened. I promise. I will never, ever kill you. You have my word." Said the man,grabbed his book he left on the table. Gracefully, he walked our the room. The way he moved was as of he was well a god. He was immaculate, perfect. "Enjoy your stay in my home. I believe I'll see you tomorrow morning." Stated the vampire before leaving.

    Once he was finally out he room, Abby was once again alone. However it didn't last long...Once again. Stevie rushed into the room, looking around, before she prances over to Abby. Giggling the whole time she plopped down right next to her grabbing her hands. "Ugh, my uncle is a pain in my rear end...Any who, what was I sayin' earlier? Oi yeah! Amber!" She giggled, and leaned in so close, their noses was touching. "Amber left Clyde~" She whispered with a giggle. "I mean what girl is crazy enough to leave that...that...Ugh he sssooo fine! She left him for another man!" She whispered.
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  18. Abby swore that she didn't breath until the vampire left the room. Even then, she stood frozen for a few, long seconds staring after him. Finally she relaxed at least a fraction. "Never kill me, huh? I've been here for less than an hour and nearly had no less than three aneurysms." She muttered to herself, sinking into her chair when her legs became to shaky to bare her weight any longer. Being here was not just a threat to her sanity, but her psychical health as well.

    The meal that Clyde had pointed out was still uneaten and was likely to remain that way. Her mouth tasted like ash. When someone came rushing into the room, Abby jumped about a foot in the air. "Sorry." Abby said, embarrassed as a giggling Stevie flounced over to her. "I'm just a little on guard right now. Kidnapped by a vampire and all." She was still amazed that Stevie, who seemed like such a lovely young woman, could apparently thrive in such a Stygian place. It must be some sort of Stockholm syndrome or Pollyanna principle.

    Abby blinked as the redhead leaned in close to her to whisper something. When she heard what the maid had to say, Abby gasped. "What? She left him? How is that even possible?" If Amber had been a sacrifice like her, then she would have also been a prisoner, lover or not. How had she managed to meet another man, let alone run away with one?
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  19. "Wanna hear the whole story?" Before the blonde teen could answer her the redhead giggle, and began anyway. "So, once upon a time like some years ago, I think like ten, Amber was here. Clyde was unbelievably in love with her. I heard from the other maids that he was just love sick. He would buy her the most extravagant things. New cars, diamond earrings, gold necklaces, foreign dogs. If she wanted to live in Bali for a ear, they would live in Bali for a year. She had Clyde wrapped around her finger so tightly, she could say jump and he would." The teen whispered, her eyes glittering with excitement.

    However those glittering eyes stopped once she heard another person enter the room. Another maid. This maid wasn't young like Stevie. She had gray hairs in the front of her brown hair, that was pulled tightly into a bun. The bun looked like it was giving her a headache from how harshly it was pulled back. Her chocolate brown eyes seemed tired and she blinked when she saw the two in the room. She curtseyed to Abby, before looking at Stevie. "Stevie? What are you doing, chatting it up with the Young Miss...I'm sure she's all too exhausted for your games."

    "Clarissa, you're wrong!" Stevie pouted jutting out her bottom lip as she stood up, putting her hands on her hips. "She's completly fine with my company. Aren't you supposed to be cleanin' that darn music room?"

    Clarissa glared at the redhead, grumbling things like, 'rude little girl' under her breath.

    Once seeing she was gone, Stevie settled back down in her chair. "Anyway...Amber had Clyde right where she wanted him. But...She became stuck up, and a bit rude. She began asking Clyde for him to turn her into a vampire. She didn't like hat she was aging, and she wanted to be young and beautiful forever. But Clyde said he wouldn't wish immortality on his enemy. He told her that it was a curse or something. Amber freaked out or something, and while they were on some cruise ship she met a guy. In spite I heard she hooked up with him. This whole thing is in her diary, I could lend it to you. But anyway, she hooked up with the guy, and found out she was pregnant. Clyde found out she was pregnant, because he heard the baby's heartbeat. He was furious of course but was willing to forgive her. He tokd her maybe they could raise the baby as their own. She said she didn't want to be with him any longer, so instead got in touched with the guy she slept with, and then she kind of just ran off with him. Leaving a heartbroken Clyde." Stevie finished her story with a sigh, dramatically putting her hand to her heart.

    "Can you imagine that? Clyde is...Sex on legs! And she left him? Ugh, that story pisses me off. I read Amber's diary though. It seemed like she loved him in the beginning, bt later in life turned to some selfish bey-otch." Giggled the girl, before standing up. "Want me to walk ya to your room?"
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