Work Text:
1869,
In a park near Ascot laid a mansion big and proud. The grand house’s white facade shined as a beacon through the biting cold. It was late October, and you were running away. You had crawled through a small opening in the large park’s fence, destroyed in yesterday’s furious storm. It was the storm that first gave you the chance to escape the loveless marriage you had managed to get trapped in. It was by the hands of your parents, once someone’s opinion you held in high regards. They had pushed and shoved and insisted he was right for you when, all along, all they wanted was the fortune and status that accompanied the marriage. And one day, a visit to your parents were made; it was horrible as you couldn’t contain the tears of your misery. They shunned the feelings and the next morning you were more than willing to cut the trip short, feeling no love in their cold and dark house. And it was that morning, lightening stuck. Right down into a tree, spooking the horses so bad the carriage you were in turned over with a loud commotion. You escaped unharmed, crawling out of the window pointing to the sky with only a minor headache and pain shooting through your neck and spine. The horses had gotten loose and ran for their freedom and you, seeing the quiet poetry in it, did the same; running straight into the woods as if a guiding wind pulled you along.
You paid no mind to the frays that were slowly lining your finest morning gown as you fought your way through the thick woods. Somewhere along the way, it had started raining hard- making your heavy silk dress unbearable to wear but you know it was something you had to ignore as you ran through the woods with mud up your ankles, permanently staining your lovely floral pattern slippers. Your hat had long since been caught on a branch and forgotten as your hairdo was unravelling into a damp mess. The crawl through the small hole in the iron fence completely stained and ripped through your gown but you continued on your journey and soon neared a grand house. Closer to a castle than anything you had ever seen. You saw a warm light come through one of the large windows of the ground floor and you yelled for help. Your voice was hoarse and rough but it powered through the strong winds. You collapsed on the patio and heard the faint sounds of voices before you fell into a deep and violent sleep.
You woke up an indefinite time later with your head resting on the softest mountain of pillows you had ever experienced. Your body felt stiff and tired but, you were warm and dry. You wore a pure white nightgown and turning your head to the side, and it was no easy feat to do so, you saw your silk dress folded over the back of a chair; perfectly mended and clean, looking as if it was brand new. You sat up and groaned as your body creaked. You felt starving, as if you had never eating in your life, and lonely. God, a bleak sensation drew over your mind of sheer loneliness and you yelled out for somebody- anybody.
“Hello,” but your voice weren’t better off than it had been in the temperamental rains and you started coughing so violently that your lungs started hurting so arduously. You got the shock of a lifetime when the closed door to the room you occupied slammed open, revealing a young man with beautiful dark brown hair reaching well past his shoulders and a well-kept beard. He wore some oriental fashion and your heart started speeding up as he neared you. “Here,” a heavily accented voice murmured out, (a peasant’s accent your mother would have said), handing you a steaming cup of tea that smelled delightfully of unknown spices. Fears of accepting anything from unknown men were overpowered by the burning in your throat and your desperate thirst. You took a careful sip and closed your eyes to sigh at the sensations that it drew from your body. Opening your eyes, you found the peculiar man still standing there, watching you intently. But he wasn’t the only one, for behind him you saw a smaller man with the biggest nose you had ever seen. His shaggy long hair and pale eyes made him appear quite… sad. You looked to and from him and the tea bringing man with a meek smile and whispered “hello” the best your voice could muster. You quickly as the word had left your mouth, a new man appeared, running past the quiet men. He seemed to be in a frantic hurry as he suddenly appeared in the room.
“Oh!” He explained. “Excuse these two, will you please, dear darling?” He looked at you with drooping eyes and bright red cheeks and leaning slightly in towards you. “They were staring, weren’t they? Awfully rude but, oh, they haven’t seen a human in decades, you know.” He tutted and took the almost full cup from your hands. “I’m Paul,” he beamed.
“W-What?” You choked out as he continued about the room, tidying up various objects, moving things and lastly; shushing the other men out the room. He closed the door carefully and leaned against it as he watched you carefully and with narrowed eyes, “you are human, aren’t you?” You gasped, offended at the question. What kind of thing was that to ask! “Of course,” you said, completely flabbergasted. What else could you possibly be but human? He nodded to himself and stepped closer to the bed that had you so enraptured. “I’m Paul,” he curtly bowed and stretched out a thin, pale, hand towards you. You hesitated, watching him silently, curious as to what was going on, before accepting the hand. You gave it a firm press and felt a cold as biting as the winds that had felled you. His skin was freezing! You drew back in shock and heard him huff as you cradled your now icy hand, trying to warm it back up. He took a large step away from you and with his arms behind his back, announced to you- “dinner is at six. Richie dear will bring it to you.” He stepped towards the door and said one last thing, looking at you before leaving, “you can have free range of the place once you’re well enough to walk. But stay out of the library- John doesn’t like to share.”
Hours passed, you were sure, though the exact number remained unknown to you. This… Paul had told you your food would arrive at six but you had no way of knowing when that was or what the hour had even been what he had informed you of that. You spend the time that passed by slowly testing the limits of your body, attempting to get out of bed to attempting to walk from one end of the room to another. It was going well but you could feel the effects of starvation come upon you, slowly sipping at the limited energy that still remained in your bed. You fell back into the bed with a sigh of frustration. You had run away to escape imprisonment and agonizing solitude, and this was no better. You were slowly succumbing to the overwhelming sense of grief when you heard a small and gentle knock on your door. You quickly sat up, wondering if you were supposed to say something. You didn’t live here nor was it, in fact, your room but yet you voiced out- “come in?”
The door opened with a creak and revealed who you could only assume was Richie, the man Paul had mentioned. He stepped inside, carrying a wooden tray with a large variety of food. The smell hit you suddenly. It was delightful! And immediately your hungry came back in full force, making its presence known with a large growl. You saw him smile, soft and small, as he placed the tray on the empty nightstand next to your bed. It appeared to be some kind of meat (hare or rabbit, perhaps?) with an assortment of potatoes and salad. And next to it all stood a large glass of red wine that made your heart tingle with excitement. He turned to leave and suddenly, surprising even yourself, you yelled out; “wait!”
“Please, stay,” you breathed out in desperation, “I’m so lonely.”
He turned around with wide blue eyes, the clearest eyes you had ever seen, and nodded before sitting down on a chair that stood close to the large queen bed. You sat in silence as you moved the tray to your lap and started eating. “You needn’t talk,” you informed him, “it is enough that you’re here,” before taking a sip of the, what turned out to be just delightful, wine. You watched him look down at his folded hands and to your amazement saw- they were completely dressed in rings. Bright, beautiful, metals and gems decorated his fingers and you almost completely forgot the piece of meat that was slowly sliding down your fork as you watched the precious jewels. He coughed and nodded towards your fork just before it would have fallen down into your lap. You muttered a thanks and continued with the eager eating. “My name’s…” you heard a deep voice and were amazed to find out it came from your previously silent companion, “my name’s Ringo.”
He looked up again and, again; you were taken aback by his eyes. They gave you a sense of calm and wonder as you stared into the infinite blues. “That’s a… peculiar name,” you noted, forgetting your manners. But he chuckled and nodded with a wonderfully great smile. “It’s because of me rings,” he laughed, waving his fingers, and you were quick to join in as his voice rang out clear as bells through the room. And you realised, you hadn’t laughed in ages. You felt comfortable around this former stranger and once you had finished eating, placed the tray back on the nightstand and turned to look at Ringo; ready to make a conversation fully. “Say… Ringo, what did… Paul mean when he said you hadn’t ‘seen humans in ages’.”
He adjusted in his seating, suddenly seeming abound with nerves. “Well,” he started and look from you to his hands, “Paul… and I… and the rest of the lads… we’re vampires.” You gasped, “a vampire? Vampires are real?” He nodded, and you felt an overwhelming sensation run through your body, leaving a path of shivers and freckled flesh behind. And he said… the rest of the lads. That meant there was more than the three you had already seen. But how many? Paul had mentioned a John. Was it just him too? The thought of additional vampires frightened you so. They were evil, weren’t they? Monsters? But they were fictitious, or so you had thought. The fear must have shown clear in your eyes as Ringo leaned forward and carefully took your hands into his own. They were cold, just as Paul’s had been, but they didn’t burn or hurt the same way his had been. In a way, in a mysterious way, Ringo’s were warm.
“You have nothing to fear, love,” his calm voice reassured you and he placed a delicate kiss to the back of your hand, “we won’t do you wrong.” And though his voice was tender and warm, something felt amiss.
You had fallen asleep not much longer after Ringo had left you with a deep and warm sensation in your chest. He had left you feeling calm. Left you feeling safe and, somehow, loved. And by the new morning, after a night of serene dreaming, you had found the energy to walk out of the isolating room and down the continuous corridor. You recalled the stark white exterior of the house and were amazed that, such as the bedroom, it didn’t match the interior. The corridor had a dark wooden red colour. It was comforting. Cozy. And you found yourself walking down it in a tranquil peace, truly oblivious to your surroundings. The air grew hotter as you continued your walk down the long and winding corridor and slowly you started to hear the faintest music and a delightful smell of spices and flowers, intermixed into a perfect union. An unknown and gentle force guided you towards the unknown wonder ‘till you stood outside of a conservatory. You entered and was immediately greeted by a gust of warm, comfortable, air and the smell of spices and floral life were now unavoidable. The music had grown louder, and you took a deep breath to take in the atmosphere completely. You progressed deeper into the bright room and passed many unknown flowers and trees, and equally; butterflies passed you by, their flowers wondrous and bright.
You came to a halt when you saw the front of a now familiar man. It was the one who had the day previous brought you that delicious tea!… That you hadn’t been allowed to finish. You took a careful step forward, not wanting to disturb his impeccable playing of a stringed instrument you had never seen before. His head was turned to the sky with eyes closed, the sun shining through the glass window and you wondered; weren’t vampires supposed to be weak to the sun?
“I know you’re there,” he suddenly said without moving an inch or stopping his playing, “and you’re welcome here.”
You nodded, before realising that he for very good reasons couldn’t see that; and moved closer. You stopped just in front of the large and wide blanket he was sitting crossed legged on it. It had a beautiful and exotic design. His deft fingers on the strings came to a halt, and he opened his dark eyes to look at you with a tiny smile, “please… sit.” He pointed to an open and bare space in front of him and you made no hesitation to do as he told. Next to him on the woolen material sat a large ornate teapot, yet another item of exotic design. Two cups already sat empty and with a smile, he poured the dark honey coloured liquid into one of the cups before handing it to you with pale hands. You graciously offered your thanks in a shy voice before taking the fine cup in hand. It had a splendid design, of dark horses and flowers. “I, uh,” you stammered after your first sip of the spiced tea, “I’m… I’m afraid I never got your name…. sir.”
“Oh,” he chuckled, “you can just call me George. None of that sir nonsense.” His smile was brilliant as it shined through his beard. You smiled in return, “thank you… George.” You sat in a few comfortable beats of silence as you both enjoyed your tea and you took the time to look around the greenhouse. It was… wonderful! Nothing like you had ever seen! Much like anything else you had come upon in your stay… it was ineffable.
“I hope you like it here so far,” George said, snapping you out of your thoughts. You quickly nodded with a sparkle in your eyes. Oh, you liked it very much. And his smile only grew larger and larger as you talked about the just wonderful flowers he had in this rather humble conservatory. “Good,” he laughed with much joy in his voice and stood up; he offered his hand to help you up, and his hand stayed in yours as he moved towards a small grove of palm trees and trees with fruit you never had seen before. And, you noted, his hands were much like Ringo’s had been. Cold to the touch, but warm to the heart. He sat you down on the edge of a small fountain and repeated what he had said before, “good,” but this time that was not all. “Good, for I do not know if you can leave from here again,” he said- the smile fading and a flicker of remorse rose in his eyes. You blinked, confused at what he meant. Why wouldn’t you be able to leave again? What? And very much as if he knew your line of thought, he answered, “I doubt John would let you once he’s met you,” he cradled your hand; the hand he had never let go of after he had led you to the small oasis. But the thought of never leaving didn’t manage to install the fear you first had thought it would, for a thought came to mind; if you left, where would you go? You had no home, or anyone to go to.
“Paul will explain any and all questions you may hold,” he squeezed your hand; his smile sorrowful. He pulled you up and embraced you in a gentle hug before landing a soft, warm, kiss to your cheek; the coarse hairs of his beard tickling you, causing a giggle. The smile had returned to his face once he pulled away. “Go talk to him, and all will be explained,” and so, you lost the touch of him on your hands and he simply… vanished between the lush greens, leaving you alone with the singing of birds off in the distance and a heavy feeling in your chest.
After getting over the shock of the intimate and peculiar affair with George, you hurried off in search of Paul. It wasn’t a hard and long fought search, for once you descended a grand staircase; you head the tunes and melody of an instrument familiar to you. A piano! Your steps became quick and frantic, you searched with desperation for some familiarity in this strange place, as you followed the alluring melody. It was sweet and upbeat melody and as you neared; you heard the soft voice of a man singing; springing more joy to your heart. You found the source of the song through the open doors of what undoubtedly left to the lounge. And, finally, with no hesitation; you entered the room with a spring in your step, ecstatic to hear such charming music. And much to your delight, you had come undisturbed as the man behind the piano looked to you with an inviting smile as he continued playing. It was indeed Paul! Candlelight highlighted beautifully his dark hair, candlelight that surrounded him and the grand piano. And, though you continued to come closer, you couldn’t help but think about the fire hazard of it all. He came to the end of the song and it left a heavy feeling in your chest. You needed more! But it would not come to be so as the young appearing man stood up with an alluring smile and took your soft hands in his.
“Hi,” he kissed the back of your hands and you didn’t feel the dread cold you had done the last time he dared put his hands on yours. Something had changed, though you couldn’t quite place your finger on what. One had let go of yours, while the one left still held a firm hold, to go to tenderly place itself on your waist. His hand burned through the fabric and you could feel his touch to your sore muscles. It was soothing, and you felt your breathing relaxed and tensions, you didn’t you know had, ease. “Come,” his fine voice sang, and he started moving you through the room towards a large velvet couch, ”please, sit and enjoy yourself.”
You stammered slightly as a new batch of tea was placed before you. This time; the teapot and its matching cups held a much more classical and English appearance. The aroma that shifted through the air was much milder and sweeter than the one in the conservatory had been. You knew not what you preferred, if you even did. Paul had disappeared and quickly reappeared which an ornate plate in hand; on it you spied large scones decorated with red berries. He placed it gently on the elegant coffee table and sat down next to you with a brilliant smile. You took a sip of the new tea and found it to be quite as delicious, in its own and unique way. You followed the sweet taste with a tentative bite of one of the many scones. They looked near identical and it left you wondering, for all you had ever baked, they all never looked so much the same. Either way, it was delicious. You saw Paul watch you studiously out of the corner of your eye as you ate. He was a handsome man; with a soft rounded face and long lashes, you couldn’t help but be reminded of a young girl with an uncanny innocence. And you wondered how he would have looked if he had longer hair in the style of the other men you had met so far.
“I’m sure you have questions,” you heard his soft voice speak as you placed a half-eaten scone back on the porcelain plate. You turned to him with a nod, but knew not where to start. You had many questions and wonderings of this place. Like, vampires? Truly? You had no reason to believe it had been a lie. But even so, it was hard to believe. Vampires! They were myths and legends! Something out of novels! Like the one you had read in your youth; The Vampyre. You asked him this; though rather demurely compared to your fiery thoughts. He nodded with a smirk and a ‘yes’. You demanded no proof of his admission but the look in your eyes and furrow of your brows pressed for it in your stead. He took your hand in his and stood tall and proud as he chuckled, “come with me and you’ll see.”
He led you towards hard wooden double doors and you shot him a questioning look, curious as to what was about to happen. No longer looked he confident as anxiety had clearly swept over him. He fiddled with your hands in his and seemed to be waiting for something… or someone. He whispered your name and turned to face you, away from the door. He looked paler than before, his hair almost coal black. He touched your cheek with a benevolent touch and leaned in; placing the gentlest of kisses to your lips. “Be safe,” he whispered against the skin, “and most of all, be careful of your words.” And so suddenly, his smile turned to that of a cheshire cat and he pulled the door open and shoved you inside, loudly shutting it behind you with the louder click of the lock following.
You were now panicking. The door was locked. The door was locked. And that grin! That grin from an otherwise charming man had completely thrown you off. Paul seemed so handsome and polite and then… this? What for? And that… warning. ‘Be careful of your words’… what? A cold wind shifted through the room and you, with a yelp, turned around. With no indications of it, you knew; you were not alone. And a low hum increasing to an echoing sound that travelled through the room. The room of which appeared to be the library you had heard warnings about. You looked frantically around. There was no one but the voice you heard, not belonging to you.
“A boat beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July.”
It said in a loud whisper. A poem that seemed so strangely familiar. You stepped further into the dark room, lined by floor to ceiling stacks of books, illuminated by the moonlight that shone furiously through large windows at the end of the eerily long hall.
“Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear,”
Your steps echoed and the volume of the voice increased.
“Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die.
Autumn frosts have slain July.”
The room grew colder and the voice closer. It had a nasally echo to it, and an accent that reminded you of the so sweet and gentle George. Was he in on this? Surely not, for he seemed to kind.
“Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies,
Never seen by waking eyes.”
Moving through the room, you saw several portraits of women. They looked dour and grim. One of an auburn-haired woman who held a playful smile but a sorrowful look in her eyes. A kind looking blonde with a soft smile and a baby in her arms. And lastly, a woman of a foreign origin you couldn’t place. Her hair long and incredibly dark, a dark that matched her eyes. And, too, in her arms were a small child.
“Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.”
You choked up as slowly neared the end of the hall. Something eerie fell you as you abandoned the portraits. You truly fell back to being alone. Ringo and George slowly leaving your mind, slowly getting replaced by the grieving women who had looked down upon you.
“In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die.”
A man appeared suddenly, the moon highlighting his features. You saw a resemblance of the auburn-haired woman in him. The hair… the hair. You saw the wide grin on his face that you had seen on Paul. Oh, that grin. His nose hooked forward as he took a large step towards you and flashed a great smile. Pointing teeth flashed in the moonlight as he jumped upon you with a cackle and a yell. And what was heard next, and what echoed through the hall, was the last terrified scream of a young girl.
“Ever drifting down the stream,
Lingering in the golden gleam,
Life, what is it but a dream?”