Chapter Text
Annabel stumbled.
She tumbled forward but didn't immediately meet the soil of the forest. Instead, she fell and rolled on a minor hill sprinkled with sharp rocks and brushwood. She landed head-first into a bush with a yelp. Her cheek was beginning to itch and burn with pain. Annabel touched her face, then felt and saw the traces that the blood dripping from her face had left on her fingers.
She sighed and crawled out of the foliage, massaging her temple with one hand as she stood up. She brushed the leftover dirt off her dress, more from the force of habit than anything else. She wasn't wearing anything she minded getting dirty or something fancy either. It was a simple light blue gown with narrow sleeves and a high collar. It didn't draw much attention. That was the reasoning she used when she picked it. Now, it was torn in multiple places, especially at the hem and her right arm. The one she used to shield herself from the fall.
She had been mindlessly strolling in the forest for quite a while, wandered off the most commonly walked path the first chance she got, and lost track of time, only realizing how long it had been when the hues of the sky turned into a deep blue and the clouds gently swayed revealing a crescent Moon. The woman stopped to gaze at the stars like awaken from a trance and when she shrugged and decided to take another step forward, the sole of her shoe meet nothing more than air and send her down the hill.
Only now, more conscious and bruised from the fall, the exhaustion caught up to her. After she stood up, Annabel started to think over her decision, blankly staring at her own feet. She turned her head back to look at the hill. Then she examined her surrounding. She didn't have the slightest idea where she was. There wasn't a single landmark that she could have even heard of, she was in the part of the woods where only wild animals lurked.
She pressed on.
Whether it was the sounds of the rustling of grass and branches, or the fatigue and a minor concussion, Annabel felt uneasy. A disturbingly familiar feeling crept up her back and send shivers down her spine.
The feeling of being watched.
The feeling Annabel Lee grew accustomed to and likely wouldn't mind in other circumstances. She always was truly fond of any kind of game. Chess in particular stroke her interest even as a child and seemed to always follow her as the only constant in her life she has any control over. That was one of the most important parts of every game. Control. That might have been a big part of why Annabel felt so drawn to a gameboard of any kind. She played more than thousands of matches of chess. all ended with a victory that required an expression of stone when coming across an enemy whose eyes scanned her every move, from the way she send sly smiles to the way her pieces hovered over tiles. The eyes of spectators in the room usually followed the waltz of two players, although Annabel's play style reminisced leading on, only to backstab the opponent from the most unexpected place more than a graceful dance.
One couldn't deny how intelligent she was or how thoughtfully played her turns were. As she continued walking her anxiety thrived, ready to devour her like a monster at any given time. Eventually, she had to stop to breathe. Slowly, steadily, quietly. In a way that didn't bring to her attention. Just like her father taught her. Annabel's hands were quivering. Her breathing was jagged. The ringing of her heartbeat pulsated in her ears almost rhythmically as she felt an ache in her chest. She sat down and tried to take deep breaths while counting.
Deep breath, one, two, three, four, five. Repeat.
Her breath evened out and her heart stopped slamming against her ribcage eventually. She wasn't sure how long it took. When her vision became less hazy she threw another look around herself, and fear crept up right back from the back of her mind as Annabel found herself gazing at a human figure. An approaching one nonetheless.
Somewhat above average height, wearing what looked like a red tailcoat with a black old-fashioned suit underneath that Annabel spotted even from afar. The person was limping, using a cane as a support. Her heart jumped up to her throat, her gaze slowly moved upward of the stranger's body the closer they got. The newcomer stood only a few meters away from her like they never were far, as if only now did Annabel notice their arrival.
Annabel's eyes were drawn to the stranger's face. A pair of moles on their checks and the greys of eyebags adorned their icy eyes. Their delicate features like those of an ancient statue masterfully carved from a block of marble were surrendered by long strands of hair as dark as ink. Silver and alabaster shone on the back of their head, peeking from the rest of their wild and slightly unkempt hair, a small portion of it tied in a ponytail with a white ribbon. Taken aback by that sight, Annabel gazed at them for a moment before she blinked and pulled herself up.
"Good morning," She babbled which was met with a loud chortle and then quiet laughter.
"I believe good night or afternoon would be more appropriate," the stranger hummed in a silky voice.
"Ah, right, good afternoon," Annabel corrected herself with a small smile.
"What does a young lady do at such an hour in the middle of the woods?" Their voice rang out as they leaned on their cane in an almost inviting manner.
"Could ask the same thing," Annabel swiftly turned the subject of the conversation back to the other person with a forced smile. "What is a distinguished British gentleman such as yourself doing here?"
"Neither a Brit nor a distinguished one," The stranger smirked, holding back laughter as they expands their hand to Annabel. "Or a gentleman for that matter. "
A surprised whist of air escaped Annabel's mouth as her cheeks redden and she took the hand of the woman in front of her.
"Lenore Vandernacht," The black-haired added, pressing her cold lips to Annabel's hand while not averting her gaze from hers for one moment.
"Charmed to meet you, Lenore," She said in a softer tone than she intended, her mind hazy as in covered with mist. "Annabel. Annabel Lee Whitlock."
"The pleasure is mine, Miss Lee."
"Please, just Annabel is fine," She interjected before Lenore could speak her mind, taking notice of the latter's rather sharp canines showing in between her words.
"Annabel," Lenore checked how her name rolled off her tongue like she was tasting a fine wine before continuing. She let go of Annabel's hand and tucked her arm behind her back. "What brings you here? No sane person would wander this deep into a forest."
"I'd rather not share as it is a family matter," Annabel put up another strained smile. Lenore's eyes carefully studied her posture. "
All I can say is that I have nowhere to go," She quietly added.
"So you came to seek refuge with the bears?" Lenore's tone didn't come across as mocking to her albeit it was at least irritating considering the circumstances.
"Only a fool would do that," Annabel took a few steps back. Her thoughts began to run freely and in the quick moment of clarity, they began to dash across her mind.
Annabel's instincts were screaming at her to back away as quickly as possible, preferably to scramble forward and run as fast as she could without looking back. Meeting a stranger in the middle of the wildest part of a forest is an alarming sight on its own. In the complete darkness of the night was another thing.
Yet here she was, just making casual conversation as if under a charm with a woman whose eyes gave a faint glow and teeth shined with way too sharp edges to be human.
"What are you trying to imply, Annabel Lee?" Lenore threw her a look of amusement.
At that moment, Annabel darted forward. Dodged a surprised Lenore by taking a sudden turn and chasing ahead. Her heart throbbed, the hum of blood pulsing in her ears. How could she let her guard down like that?
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
An introduction with a full name was one of the worst things she could have done. Annabel couldn't help but feel furious at herself. She was running out of breath when her shoe caught on a root and she tumbled down once again that night. Annabel slowly sat up. Her cheek began to itch yet again and the rest of her body wasn't in much better condition. Her muscles burned after the frantic run and multiple falls.
"So what's this about?" A familiar voice appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
Again.
Annabel's head shot upwards, only for her eyes to meet Lenore's, who was staring her down while sitting on a rock right in front of her, fiddling with the cane in her hands. The handsome woman has materialized from the shadows just like she has done the first time. Annabel swallowed. She clenched her hands until her knuckles went white. Her whole body tensed.
"This is my terrain, I know how to get around, " Lenore threw in a monotone like it was the perfect explanation to any of the questions Annabel had. She continued to stare her down with partially closed eyes until she spoke up again.
"You can rest, I won't harm you."
Annabel didn't flinch. Lenore took a deep breath and sighed.
"You have nowhere to go, right?"
She was met with silence. A little subtle nod followed by a mumble was all she needed to know the answer.
"There's a small manor that I live in. This part of the woods is cut off from humans most of the time, the perfect hideout for someone who wants to escape the binds of society," Lenore rested her head on her hands. Annabel perked up despite the pain and discomfort, only to imminently back down.
"I have nothing of value on me or any way to repay you for such hospitality," Annabel stated dryly. Maybe hoping for her tone to discourage Lenore from any further discussion.
Yet Lenore stood up (with a muffled groan, holding her hand up to her hip but she stood up nonetheless) and slowly walked to the woman sitting on the ground to crouch next to her.
"But of course, you have," Lenore's hand ran across Annabel's cheek, wiping the blood off it with the tenderness with which one would wipe off the tears from a beloved's face. A chill ran through Annabel's spine as she felt the cold touch as her face felt paradoxical warmth raising like wildfire.
"And just what is it that I have?"
"Your body."
Annabel's face turned red as she held a gust of air.
"Pardon?" Annabel squealed, blushing up to her ears.
"Blood. You can stay as long as you let me drink your blood."
Annabel's mind went blank and the silence only broken by the sounds of nature had fallen between the two. A minute passed. And a second one. Annabel slowly blinked, her lips parted as if she wanted to say something but she halted and pressed them into a thin line.
"Are you a cannibal-" the blonde started but was imminently interrupted.
"Where did you even get this idea from?" Lenore frowned, held a hand to her forehead, and threw Annabel a glance of a person who's too tired to explain, argue or talk to someone like her. "No, I'm not even human."
"My kind feeds on human blood to survive," She added after a pause, her accent slipping into a transatlantic one rather than British. "You have nothing to lose and much to gain. I'd say that a roof over your head is worth it."
Annabel inhaled sharply as she finally begin to realize the full extent of her situation. Lenore sighed and gradually stood up, once again offering her hand to Annabel. She took it with hesitation, sluggish as if her arm was as heavy as a brick of stone, her hand trembling. Heart pounding. Annabel pulled herself up from the ground, while Lenore did her best to hide gritting her teeth as she felt the entire weight of Annabel's body on her arm. A smile tugged on the sides of Lenore's lips before she offered Annabel her arm.
"It's a deal then?"
Annabel responded with a smirk of her own, locking her arm with Lenore's.
"We haven't discussed the details yet, miss Vandernacht. I believe your manor would be a suitable place to do that, no?"
Annabel's spirit wavered the longer they walked. Lenore wasn't in a hurry. It appeared as if for her it was just a midnight stroll around the house garden filled with childhood memories instead of what it was: the middle of a bloody forest. Her step was filled with confidence, only broken by a light limp - almost unnoticeable with her cane in hand. A not long time passed when Annabel felt the awkwardness of it crept at her back. The silence was deafening.
"Won't your family mind a stranger staying for an unspecified time at their home?" Annabel finally asked the question that was plaguing her mind the most. "Or do you just wander around, looking for strangers to invite for some tea, biscuits, and blood-sucking?"
Lenore chuckled, showing the edged endings of her teeth. "No, I do not go around collecting noblemans' runaways daughters. You're the first and only one so far."
"Good to hear," Annabel muttered.
"As for my family, they don't live with me," Lenore's body stiffened. Her tone shifted to a bitter one, taking rather a turn from the warm and joking one from moments ago. "Private matter. Nothing of your interest," She forced through her damped smile before a genuine one blossomed on her face making Annbel's heart skip a beat and causing her face to flush. "Would you look at that, we're here."
Before them stood a two-story manor, walls raised with grey bricks, roof blanketed with dark tiles. Numerous windows with intricate detail around their windowsills covered the whole building. Small cracks, minor scratches and missing pieces of walls showed the building's age. Lenore led her to the front entrance — massive oak doors accented with iron. She opened the doors for Annabel, taking a step back to let her enter first.
"Welcome to the Vandernacht manor, Annabel Lee," She said in a welcoming tone like she was greeting a long-awaited guest who was unfortunately late.
Annabel decided to keep the question circling around her mind of "Am I going to get murdered tonight?" private. Not that it mattered much to her.
Annabel followed Lenore through the porch. The warmth of the inside hit her cheeks like a gust of wind. She shuddered. Annabel didn't realize how cold it was outside until that moment. The hall of the manor was rather inviting, bathed in warm hues of red, deep chocolate brown of the wood furniture and gold accents. It split into two openings, one on the left and one on the right. Between them, a staircase climbed to the first floor. Lenore turned her head to Annabel after closing the doors behind her.
"Would you like to discuss everything now or wait till morning?" Lenore asked, catching a glimpse of Annabel's failed attempt at hiding a yawn.
"Would waiting be okay with you?" Annabel retorted, resisting the urge to rub her eyes to keep them open.
"A few hours don't make a difference for me," She shrugged.
Lenore motioned to the stairs before she started going up, and Annabel followed after her. The first floor was styled in the same way as the ground floor. Lenore took a turn to the left, entering a long corridor with multiple doors on the side.
"These are the guests' bedrooms," She said as she pointed to them, "You can use any of them, all should have spare clothes. At the end of the hall, there's a bathroom."
"That one?" Annabel made sure, taking a look around. Lenore nodded with a hum.
"Do you need anything else?" Lenore leaned on the wall, fixing her suit with one hand and adjusting the grip around the cane with the other.
Annabel shook her head.
"If you need anything my bedroom is on the other side of this floor."
"If you get lost just scream," She added with a smile.
Annabel rolled her eyes and entered the bathroom.
It was a clean and well-lit room, with a bath, sink, and toilet. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out, mentally preparing herself for the upcoming morning. The water was surprisingly warm. The manor appeared to have some form of plumbing despite looking like an abandoned ruin. Considering it was in the middle of nowhere it must have been a miracle or some form of magic. Annabel took a moment to think.
Maybe reflect. On her life so far, on the decision she was about to make. All of her memories were covered in mist, hazy and forever slipping away. A chessboard was the only thing she was sure she knew how to describe.
The King shouting his orders from the back of the field, knights galloping forward, bypassing pawns, rooks slowly making their moves across the battlefield, bishops sliding in between the battle, they sometimes dodge attacks and sometimes collapse after failing to do so while the Queen patiently waits for her turn, all units brought together with one goal - to assassinate the King on the other side. Even that landscape so familiar it had been burned into her mind seemed far away. Annabel let out a groan of frustration, bubbles raising around her head.
Her eyelids were heavy and her head felt light. After Annabel was done with the quick bath she decide on the closest bedroom, one right next to the bathroom door, and immediately dropped on the bed. She was unconscious the moment her head hit the mattress. Even dreams about pieces moving around a chessboard like puppets didn't seem to bother her that night.
She was awoken by knocking at the bedroom door when rays of sunshine were falling on the floor through the window. Annabel stretched, slowly sitting up. She wasn't sure where she was, only moments later she recalled what and who get her there in the first place. She looked around the room searching for a mirror but there wasn't a single one in sight.
She only now got a good look around. The bedroom was spacious, it had a wardrobe and a colourful patterned rug. The bed itself was the main piece, with rich carvings on the sides and soft sheets. The room seemed to be used to welcome the most important and wealthiest guests. Annabel struggled across it and opened the door to see her host and current owner of the mansion standing a few steps away from the doorframe. Lenore threw her a glance and almost immediately adverted her gaze, holding back a cough.
"I prepared breakfast, the dining room is on the ground floor, left to the stairs, at the end of the hallway," She let out in one breath.
Annabel looked at herself and her eyes widened. She slept in her underwear as one does after passing out in an unfamiliar house without any spare attire. She slammed the door shut, pressing her back against it. After choking down a scream, she turned around to yell out "Go ahead, I'll join you soon!" before checking the already mentioned spare clothing and making herself look presentable. She set on a casual blue dress that was the first one that fit her, not perfectly but well enough for no one to notice. She didn't have much audience to worry about anyway.
She took a deep breath and ran down the staircase.
Annabel could smell food well before she saw it.
It was neatly served on a plate that rested at the end of a long table. Lenore sat right next to it. Annabel seated herself next to her and looked over the meal, avoiding eye contact. Next to a pile of creamy scrambled eggs spattered with - something green, Annabel wasn't sure, she thought it was probably chives, lay long stripes of freshly cooked bacon with dark and crusty edges. Up close the salty smell was even more apparent.
Her stomach rumbled.
"Go ahead," Lenore nodded towards the plate.
"You made it yourself?" Annabel asked picking up a fork and a knife, to which Lenore shrugged.
"Even though you don't eat normal food?"
"You sure catch on quickly. I cook for my friends, actually-" She hung up on whatever she was about to say like it was too big a bite to swallow.
"An old friend used to teach me how to cook," Lenore said after a pause. "It's not an interesting story and we have matters to discuss. Let's not waste time."
"Right," Annabel muttered in between bites. Not only it looked good, but was delicious. A thought crossed Annabel's mind: someone who just cooked for fun wouldn't be able to prepare that so well.
"What exactly are you?" Lenore's head shot up at that question. She tilted her head to the side and glanced at Annabel with a light wince, collecting her thoughts, surprised by how blunt and direct that was.
"You live of blood, you say you aren't human yourself," Annabel shot her a look. "What are you then?"
"What do you think I am, Annabel Lee?" Her sharp canines shined in a partial smile.
Annabel devoured the last bit of her breakfast and put away the utensils. She didn't expect her question to backfire that quickly.
"I guess I don't fit with your high-class standards for one worth the title of a human. Dead to society yet still breathing, so that's what you can call me: an undead." Another smile. Lenore leaned on her arm. "And what about you, Miss Lee? Are you perhaps an undead yourself? What brings you to my humble doorstep? "
Her heart skipped a beat as her posture shifted. Annabel frowned in a manner that signed she wasn't willing to talk, yet she broke out an imitator of a smile.
"Nothing noteworthy, didn't you say yourself that it's better not to waste time? We're here to discuss a deal and I'd like to hear about the details."
"Putting on a business face?" Lenore chuckled. "It's quite simple, as long as I get to feed on your blood you can stay here as long as you wish. Regularly, once a week would be preferred. You're free to leave whenever you like and do whatever your soul desires during your stay."
"Well, besides property damage," She quickly added in a mutter.
"Property damage is off the table? You're destroying my dreams, pet," Annabel responded with an exaggerated motion of holding her hand up to her chest without missing a beat.
Lenore's laughter rang out. It threw off Annabel for a moment, as she was taken aback by the clear sound and the way that the woman's nose slightly scrunched up as a wide grin appeared on her face. She shook her head and glared daggers at Lenore despite her cheeks turning to a warmer shade and her heart being restless.
"Are you sure you want to just let me leave if I feel like it?" She finally asked when Lenore's laughing fit died off.
"I have a feeling you won't want to leave," Lenore wiped her eyes with a smile still plastered to her face. Before Annabel had the chance to ask for clarification on just what that was supposed to mean she pointed to Annabel's empty plate.
"Hey, are you finished with your breakfast? I'd like to get to mine."
"Wait, and just how do you plan to go about that?" Annabel held up a hand to her neck in an almost defensive manner and sunk into her chair.
"I drink blood, I thought we already established that."
"Yes, but I am asking 'how'?" Annabel awkwardly motioned with her hand, herself unsure just what she wanted to do with it.
"With this," Lenore opened her mouth wide and pointed to her fangs, visibly annoyed. "How do you think I am supposed to do it?"
"I don't know! In vampire fiction, it's rather..." Annabel's whole face turned red as she finished her thought. "Intimate."
Lenore glared at her with an expression of utter disgust and confusion as she rested her head on her arm. Annabel deducted from Lenore's face that was an aspect she shouldn't worry about.
"And I won't get turned into one of you?" She asked hesitantly. Lenore's eyes widen in even more confusion.
"I- no? That- literally wouldn't make sense?" She sputtered, looking even more tired than before. "Imagine if every time I went out to eat I'd turn my dinner into competition."
Annabel nodded in agreement as she mentally determined that it indeed made sense. She still couldn't help but feel an itch in her chest, anxiety raising in the back of her throat.
"Ok, but I won't start seeing things or-"
"It's like having your blood drawn," Lenore shot down any more questions she could have and yet Annabel felt uneasy.
"Like no telepathic link or sleepwalking as a side effect or..."
"Where did you even get that one from...?"
Lenore thought that the nearest future seemed bleak.
"And it can't be anything other than the neck?" Annabel asked once again.
She was seated by Lenore on the bed in the room that was now for hers to use, instructed to either change to something that revealed most of her neck and clavicle or to stay in her undergarments. She choose the latter Lenore sat next to her, uncomfortably close, holding a small piece of cloth in hand, she had taken off her coat and left her cane leaning against a wall.
"Anywhere that has blood vessels close to skin or visible is good, an alternative would be a place like your wrist," Lenore showed her own arm, pulling up a sleeve of her shirt. Purple and blue lines faded out and in like they would on an average person. Annabel's attention was caught by tiny beauty marks on her arm further up, a dark shade of brown, matching those on her cheeks.
"Neck is just the most accessible area, and the least awkward too," Lenore explained, waving the handkerchief around. "This is to stun the bleeding. Don't worry, it's going to be mostly painless."
"Mostly?" Annabel repeated.
"Well, you will feel your skin being pierced, but nothing after that," Lenore said as if it was supposed to be a calming piece of information.
Annabel could only stare at her with mild apprehension.
"Good to know," She muttered under her breath in a thin voice.
Lenore moved even closer to her, close enough that Annabel felt her breath on her face. Her head tilted like she was about to steal a kiss. Annabel's insides were rolling around at that thought.
"Have you ever danced a waltz?" Lenore suddenly spoke up.
"I don't believe I have," Annabel looked around, searching for anything that might have been the reason for bringing up such a random topic. "So can you enlighten me why you're asking me this now, pet?"
Lenore scratched her face, taking a moment to think, organizing words in her head. Coming to the conclusion it was pointless she took Annabel's hand.
"May I?"
Annabel nodded as her cheeks flushed. Lenore led her hands around her neck, letting Annabel hold her shoulders while she rested her arms on Annabel's sides in an almost hug.
"Normally in waltz, you'd be holding your partner's hand, like that or so," Lenor held out hers to a side for a demonstration. Evidently trying to lighten the mood or get Annabel to focus on something. A silence fell between the two, as Annabel didn't react much to it.
"You're shaking," Lenore stated as a matter of fact. Annabel threw her a glance with a raised eyebrow.
"You're rather observant, aren't you, pet?" She huffed with a weak chuckle.
"Are you alright?"
"No, I mean yes, it's just, I mean, I, I don't know-" Annabel stuttered as her breath became more frantic. She felt Lenore's hand on her shoulder.
"Hey, it's going to be okay, just focus on slowly breathing now." Annabel closed her eyes and tried to count as she took choppy breaths when she felt arms around her as Lenore pulled her into a tight yet gentle hug. Her eyes opened wide as if to make sure what she felt was real.
"Tell me when you feel better," Lenore patted her head like one would a scared cat's. Annabel nodded and buried her face in the crook of Lenore's neck. She wasn't sure how much time passed until her lungs were no longer on fire as embers died down and her lips were already dusted with ash.
"You're being a surprisingly considerate, pet," Annabel muttered.
"Really?" Lenore whispered more to herself than to Annabel.
"I guess no stranger has been this kind to me before," she admitted. Lenore cleared her throat and straighten her arm, suddenly pushing Annabel away from herself with a somewhat bashful expression.
"Since you're my guest, it's my duty as a hostess to make sure you're comfortable," Lenore ran her hand through her dark hair, looking off to the side. "And since you're going to be staying here in the long term it's better we get along. That's all. Don't mistake that for kindness."
"Of course," Annabel hummed, failing to hide a smile. Lenore asked if she was better to which Annabel just nodded.
"Are you sure?"
"Pet, I don't think I'll be any calmer than I am now," She replied with a smile.
Annabel held back her breath.
Lenore's lips brushed against her skin sending shivers down her spine before fangs dug into her skin like a pair of needles. Pain flashed in her neck and began to travel down to the rest of her body when suddenly it all came down to numbness. Annabel opened her eyes with a wince as she didn't feel much after that. As Lenore raised her head with reddened cheeks blood dripped from the corner of her mouth. She wiped her face and handed a piece of cloth to Annabel.
"Do you know how to stun bleeding?" She threw in a light tone, licking her lips of any trace of red.
"And that's all?" Annabel asked with a raised eyebrow as she held up the cloth to her neck and pressed it on the wounds.
"Yup, I'm full," Lenore scratched the back of her head. The entire tension left Annabel's body in one moment as the room spined around her and her vision blurred to blackness.
She opened her eyes to the sight of the ceiling of a room and black hair peeking from the outskirts of her vision. As she came to her senses Lenore's face briefly appeared in front of her only to disappear seconds later. Annabel lifted her head and almost immediately fell back with a heavy sigh and reddened face on Lenore.
The woman was holding her from back in a surprisingly warm embrace. A thought ran across Annabel's mind. One she was scared to say out loud.
"I could get used to this. This manor that looks like a hellish ruin. This woman so kind and gentle that keeps insisting on not being any of these things. This middle of nowhere where no one sane or human lives. I could totally get used to all of this."
Annabel swore she heard Lenore mutter "You better not faint on me again," with a growl before she closed her eyes and fell into a deep slumber for good this time.