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It is a quiet night. Renfield had collected a fresh meal for Master and displayed it lovingly on the table near the coffin. He had lured two does out to the castle with honeyed words and feathery touches. It had taken days to gain the trust of the animals but even Renfield could sense their purity, even Renfield knew a banquet when he saw one. Twenty years of meal collection had rendered him a fine hunter indeed.
Renfield lit the candles and adjusted the dresses the women wore, making sure the flesh of their necks was the highlight of the display. He sat on the floor of the adjoining room with his own little dinner, a plate holding a crunchy piece of baguette and a a ripe apple and a hunk of some sort of yellow cheese- he had never been one to care to learn the many varieties of the stuff; he knew what he liked. He had once insisted to Master, maybe sometime after they returned to the castle from that accursed Abbey, that he felt hunger no longer, only for his empty belly to audibly betray that statement. Master had told him You belong to me. If you don't care for yourself, that reflects poorly on me. So, when his duties to his Master were completed, Renfield would venture out to purchase food for himself.
He had tried eating as his Master did, once. Master was unamused by his familiar's attempt to do so.
You are too low on the food chain, servant. Go back to your bugs. Ambrosia is fit only for the gods.
Renfield listened as he ate. The creak of the coffin lid, the crackle of the bread crust, the groggy whimpers of Master's meal, the crunch of the apple, juice running down his chin like blood, his fingers digging into the cheese like claws into muscle and fat.
Renfield set his plate aside. He wiped his chin with his sleeve and waited, attentive, on bended knee, by the door of Master's room. Soon the door opened and the smell of gore wafted trough. Master strode out, his eyes so red they were nearly black. He looked down at his familiar and Renfield dutifully averted his gaze.
"Renfield," Master slurred.
Renfield looked up, blue eyes wide. Master stroked Renfield's hair with a sticky, bloodied hand.
"Fine work tonight."
Renfield grinned. Master gestured for him to stand and he did and Master said "I might be inclined to ...reward such fine dining, if you were to clean my room in a timely manner."
Oh.
Master chuckled and disappeared as mist to some other part of the castle. Renfield hastily opened his snuff box and pulled from it a fat caterpillar. He chewed it quickly and his body hummed with Master's power.
He would earn that reward in full.