Chapter Text
Dawn seeps into the sky, casting a dreary glow over the valley. Bird song floats on the breeze, sounding from unseen choirs perched high in the trees. The herds meander across their fields, while the livestock dogs watch them dutifully.
Oakhurst creaks to life as townsfolk set about their daily chores. The farmers march out to their crops, the baker starts up the ovens, and the stablehand draws out a fresh bale of hay.
Through the morning mist, the doctor emerges from his house, tugging his cloak around himself.
Eager eyes peer out of a dew-splattered window, watching as the doctor ducks into a dark carriage. The muffled thunder of wheels churning gravel sounds as the driver cues his horses and the trap slips into the trees.
“Avid!” Drift calls, throwing open the front door and parading into their little home.
“Hey! Where have you been all morning?” Avid huffs, poking his head down the ladder.
“I… was talking to Cleo and Ren,” she announces, swinging herself melodramatically into a rickety chair. Avid drops down from the first floor, brow creased in concern.
“Why?” he mutters, “Is something wrong? Is the Count going to eat us all?”
Ever since Mayor Louis was ousted for conspiring with the manor, and allegedly being turned into a vampire, Cleo had taken up the role of acting mayor at the request of the townsfolk. If Drift had been speaking to them all morning, it must have been important.
“No! Don’t be silly!”
Avid sighs with relief.
“But, I did sign us both up to serve in the manor,” She adds quickly.
“WHAT?” Avid blurts, gripping her shoulders, “Are you crazy?”
“No!”
“They’ll eat us alive!”
“No, they won’t!... I don’t think so, at least. Plus! It’ll be great for our investigation.”
“Your investigation.”
“You’re just as curious as I am, and you know it.”
Avid groans, sinking into the other spindly chair, and burying his face in his hands.
“We’ll finally see what vampires are really like. Also, you can find out about your scratch, and I can find out what they did with everyone who has visited the town!”
Drift seems way too enthusiastic about the situation for Avid’s liking.
When Oakhurst had first made the deal with Count Goldsmith that they would provide food in return for safety, they hadn’t factored in outsiders, and so, it is more than common for them to mysteriously vanish after a few days.
“If we die, I’ll kill you,” Avid warns, giving in.
Over the next few days, life continues as normal, or at least as close to that as possible. Their average chores continue whilst also preparing to leave for the manor. Though at night, Avid has trouble sleeping. He is haunted by grim imaginings of the mysterious Count, with sour, yellow eyes and fangs like sabres. An ugly, old creature with unruly claws and a savage bloodlust. Avid sees himself chased down by the beast – hunted like prey. He runs and runs, and then finds himself wrapped up in his sheets, shivering in a cold sweat.
The days march dutifully on until a week has passed, and it is time for Drift and Avid to say their farewells.
The same black carriage that frequently delivers the town’s physician to the manor rolls once more through the gates, drawn by two great, onyx-coated mares, and driven by a hooded figure with cotton wraps looped over their arms and hands. They squeeze the reins, drawing the trap to a halt in the centre of the road.
Avid and Drift stand, clutching their bags, surrounded by the residents of Oakhurst, each calling their goodbyes.
“Good luck, you two! Have fun,” Mr M smiles, appearing behind the pair and squeezing their shoulders.
“Mhm…” Avid hums, sceptical.
“Thank you, Mr M!” Drift pipes.
“I’m quite jealous, personally,” he continues, “I hear the Count’s parties are a sight to behold.”
The figure steps down from the carriage, patting their horse’s shoulder as they approach Cleo.
The pair exchange quiet words for a moment before the driver turns to the crowd.
“Avid and… Drift?” He calls, dropping his hood.
The man is thin, with dark eyes and a harsh expression. His hair is curly and pulled back into a ribbon, dark as pine. Avid is quick to notice the bandages circling the man’s neck, much like his own, though the thought is shaken from him as Drift pulls him forward.
“Here!” She chirps.
“Get in.”
“Not one for niceties, I guess,” Avid mumbles. Drift chuckles, though Avid could have sworn the man looked back. There was no way he could’ve heard that, right?
He doesn’t have long to ponder the thought before Drift is shoving him into the carriage, waving brightly to the onlookers.
Avid’s pulse quickens as the man slams the carriage door shut, leaving them with only the light from the small windows on either side of the carriage.
Drift sighs, flopping back into the chesterfield-style benches running along each side of the cramped space. The seats are a deep wine red, and the entire space is framed in dark wood. Every surface is intricately detailed with carvings and embellishments.
Avid takes in his surroundings and tenses as the carriage rocks into motion, and he sees the walls of Oakhurst pass the windows.
The pair sit in silence, watching as vast pine trees close in around them.