CHAPTER THREE
Lorenzo sat alone at the desk of his study, flipping through a small photo album. It mostly contained old black and white photos of his parents, his sister, Varina, and himself. Towards the end of the album, there were more and more pictures of him, and his former fiancé, Meredith.
With each turn of a page, Lorenzo’s eyes furrowed more, and his chest tightened. By the time he got to the last page, he scowled, ripped it up, and threw the book across the room. He stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. As he paced back and forth in the hallway, memories of the start of his cursed eternity flooded back to him.
New England
April 7, 1866
“You know, Lorenzo, if you keep treating your fiancé with so much respect and admiration, we men may get the wrong idea,” Lorenzo’s friend Edward said jokingly. It was a party in celebration of Edward’s acceptance into Medical School, and everyone was happily drinking. Lorenzo had his arm around Meredith’s waist, and had just finished boasting to Edward and other colleagues about how great of a poet and writer she was.
“God forbid a man accepts a woman with a talent other than matchmaking or tea-brewing,” Meredith replied. The group laughed.
Lorenzo made a point of having friends that were open-minded intellectuals, bent on not conforming to society standards. They believed in equality between the sexes, and unlimited knowledge gain, always asking questions. Meredith was a very creative woman, who spent plenty of her time writing, painting, and even drawing up some of her own fashions which she dared to wear in public. Partnered with Lorenzo’s hard lawyer logic, the pair seemed like a match-made in Hell, but the two complemented each other very well, sharing the same ideas and sense of humor.
The night went on as the couple and their friends drank, talked about Edward’s plans, Lorenzo’s latest success in the courtroom, and politics. Around 2am, Meredith stifled a small yawn, signaling that it was time to leave. The two grabbed their things, congratulated and thanked Edward, and began to walk.
“Let’s just keep walking, love. It’s so nice outside, and we’re only a little ways’ away.” Lorenzo said, taking Meredith’s hand. She giggled, and stumbled.
“It may be a good idea. I’m a bit tipsy.”
As they walked along the empty street, they heard a rustling sound in a nearby alley. They stopped, trying to hear the sound again, but it was silent. As they started walking again, the rustling began again. Beginning to feel uneasy, Lorenzo held Meredith closer.
“Let’s cross the street,” he said, leading her to the other side.
“What’s wrong? What was that noise?” she whispered.
“I’m not sure, let’s just hurry ba-” but he was interrupted by a dark figure standing in front of him. He couldn’t see its face, but he could see its teeth, and they shone brightly in the darkness. Suddenly, he heard Meredith scream. Looking to his left, another dark figure was holding her by the waist with his teeth deeply sunk into her chest. Lorenzo leapt on the back of the figure, wrapping his arms around its head when he felt a startling pain in the side of his neck. He could feel the blood leaving his body as his arms fell from the monster. The last thing he saw before he went unconscious was his wife’s limp body being carried away.
When Lorenzo came to, he was on the floor of what looked like a basement. There was a table with many different sized vials filled with various colored substances. He tried to get to his feet, but still felt too weak.
What is this feeling…like all of the energy has been sucked out of me?
Remembering what had just happened; Lorenzo reached for his neck, and felt two puncture holes. But there was no blood. He also noticed that his coat was missing. Lorenzo slowly rose to his feet with the aid of a nearby chair, sitting on it. He dug into his pocket, pulling out a small silver locket. Opening it up, he looked at the picture of Meredith.
“Meredith…what have they done to you?” he whispered aloud, tears welling up in his eyes. His fist tightly clenched around the locket, he wiped the tears away. He could feel his body get hot, all the way up to his ears. Lorenzo stood up.
“Hello?!” he bellowed. Silence.
“Show yourself, if you dare!” he began to look around the dimly lit basement.
“Where is my fiancé? You will pay!” Suddenly, a door opened on an upper level, and a woman stepped out into the light. She was in a man’s violet-colored suit, with straight black hair, alabaster skin, and crimson red lips. The corners of her mouth turned up, barely discernible.
“There’s no need to scream and yell. It’s rather rude.” She said calmly.
“Where is Meredith?! Where is my fiancé?”
“Don’t get too excited; you’ll merely waste the little energy you have.” She replied, walking down the steps to face him. Once face-to-face, he realized that she was quite statuesque, just 4 inches shy of his 6’3 figure. He also noticed that her eyes were a bright, unnatural green.
“Why am I here? And where is Meredith?” he asked again, holding onto the chair for leverage.
“My, you’re like a parrot, aren’t you? Is that all you know how to say? Be polite. Introduce yourself. My name is Carmella. And you are…?” the woman asked, grabbing a hold of his shirt collar. Lorenzo quickly swatted her hand away.
“Relax, I merely want to take a look at the bite marks on your neck.” She pulled his shirt collar down, looking at the scar. As she licked her lips, Lorenzo asked,
“Are you doctor?” Carmella raised an eyebrow, looking up at him.
“No, I just like to see my own work up close.” She replied, beginning to laugh. Lorenzo pulled away, shaking his head.
“You did this to me?!” He stepped back, wiping his clammy hands on his vest.
“I want out of here…”
“—Where will you go?” she interrupted. “You are no longer normal. You are part of the undead. A completely different species.”
“But—my wife—“
“Your wife was weak. She would not have been able to take it. Besides, I don’t work well with the competition,”
Lorenzo’s face went pale.
“You—you killed my” he choked on the words in disbelief. “You killed my wife?”
Carmella stared at Lorenzo as if he were dumb. “Well—yes. I mean, what was I supposed to do? I’m only required to kill one, and I made my choice.”
Lorenzo felt the room spinning around him.
“You kill—for sport?” his lids felt heavy. He could feel her watching him.
“It’s not really a sport…it’s a necessity…for our kind…but you must be overwhelmed.” Carmella took his hand, leading him up the steps. He was dragging behind, with very little energy keeping him conscious.
“Where are you taking...,” Lorenzo dropped to the floor as they exited the dungeon. He could feel himself losing consciousness. The room became blurry, and began to spin. As he looked up at Carmella, she smiled, winking at him. He fell to the floor and everything went black.
This time, when Lorenzo woke up, he was in a large baroque period canopy bed. The frame and posts were gold, the sheets violet, and the veil was a sheer crimson. Wiping his face in confusion, he felt wetness near his mouth. Lorenzo held out his hand, and yelped at the sight of blood. He quickly looked to his right, and there was a young naked woman lying dead face-up with her eyes still open. Blood was soaking through the sheets, and there were various bite marks on her body. Lorenzo jumped out of bed, falling onto the floor.
He frantically looked for his clothes, trying as quickly as possible to get out of the bedroom. Searching everywhere but finding nothing, he finally opened up one of the great oak armoires and grabbed a robe. He ran to the door, but it was locked from the inside. He slammed his shoulder against it a couple times, but to no avail. He scanned the room. No windows. He banged on the door repeatedly.
“Hello?! Can anyone hear me?!” he yelled. He continued to bang.
“Help me! I’m locked in here! Help me!” his hands began to hurt, so he stopped. Trying to calm himself down, he began to pace back and forth.
“Think logically, Lorenzo. What was the last thing you remembered?” he asked himself aloud.
He remembered meeting that woman…Carmella. She took him upstairs, and then he lost consciousness. Then he woke up here, next to the dead woman.
“No, Lorenzo. You were awake at some point in between.” He sat on the edge of the bed, deep in thought. They were broken, however by the sound of the door slowly unlocking. When it opened there was a young woman dressed in bland servant clothes, with wavy blonde hair, holding neatly folded clothes that appeared to be his. Her face was of the same paleness as Carmella’s, only her eyes were brown, and had a comforting openness to them. Lorenzo stood up, instinctively standing in front of the dead woman’s body.
The young woman took a step forward, holding out his clothes.
“Once you are dressed, the Mistress would like to see you in her study,” she said, her head remaining lowered.
“And where might that be?” Lorenzo asked frustrated.
“It is to the left at the end of the hall. But I am to escort you.” She replied. Lorenzo grabbed his clothes from her. The woman looked up, but not at him, at the dead woman lying on the bed behind him. Her eyes squinted, and she sniffed.
“She is not dead, you know,” she whispered. Lorenzo turned to her.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“If you do not finish her, she will come back as one of us. The Mistress does not like unplanned turns, especially women. You must finish her.” She answered quickly, in a hushed tone, as if Carmella could hear them.
“I will do no such thing,” he answered, beginning to put his clothes on.
“But you must!” She hissed.
“No, and that is final. Let her come back. I want nothing to do with ‘finishing her’”
The woman’s eyes grew wide, but suddenly, her face twisted into a smile.
“May I?” she asked, biting her lip.
“I—what?”
“It will only take a second, I promise. You will be fully dressed by the time I’m done.” She began to inch toward the bed, slowly. Lorenzo grabbed her arm pulling her away.
“I will not be witness to your bloodlust. Take me to Carmella now.” He said, buttoning his vest. The woman scowled, but did as she was told.
She led him down a hallway with paintings of what may have been her family, or perhaps just art. They were all dark, painted with deep burgundies blues and greens. Any lightness in the paintings was merely the skin color or the whites of the subjects’ eyes. As Lorenzo looked at the paintings he began to feel slightly depressed, slowly beginning to see what he had become and the kind of life he had in store.
When they arrived to a door at the end of the hallway, the woman knocked three times, and then stepped aside.
“This is where we part. Good luck, sir.” She whispered and quickly walked down the hall. So quickly, in fact, it seemed as if she were floating. Lorenzo’s eyes followed her, wondering if she was going back to “finish” that woman, when he heard the door open. Turning back, he met Carmella’s penetrating gaze.
“Good evening, Mr. Rinaud,” she said, opening the door wider to let him in. He stepped inside, immediately awestruck by the vast amount of books in her study. Her desk was covered in papers, some with an unidentified script. In the center, he noticed a thick black book with a strange symbol on the front. Carmella followed his eyes to the book.
“It is a book of Vampiric Law. A little too thick if I may say, but rules were made to be broken,” she said, chuckling to herself. She walked over to the desk, opening a drawer. She took something out, placing it in his hand.
“This belongs to you,” Lorenzo opened his hand, revealing the locket. Instinctively, he put his hand to his pocket not even realizing that it had gone missing.
“I didn’t want anything to happen to it while you were…well…” Carmella trailed off with a sly smile.
“How are you feeling Mr. Rinaud? Well-rested?” she asked, sitting down at her desk. Lorenzo’s jaw clenched, knowing her angle.
“That woman…” he began, not wanting to go any further.
“You killed her. You drank her blood.” Carmella replied.
“I did not. I could not.” He said, backing up to the door.
“You seduced her promising her a great time, and then you bit her.” She said, standing up, her eyes glowing with excitement.
“No. Impossible.” he said, holding up his hands, continuing to back up.
“Numerous times. All over her body. I know, I watched.”
“I’m no killer!” Lorenzo yelled, his back hitting the door.
“Yes you are!” Carmella yelled back, suddenly inches from his face. Her grimace softened, and she began to stroke his cheek.
“Face it, Lorenzo. This is who you are now. You kill to survive. And you do it well. Better than me,” she stepped away from him. Lorenzo staggered to a chair sitting next to the desk, allowing himself to slink down.
“Vampire…” he muttered. He had to accept. There was no way out. Kill or starve. He rubbed his temples, allowing the defeat to set in. Eternity as a monster.
Carmella walked to one of her bookshelves. After a quick browse, she grabbed a book handing it to him.
“What is this?” Lorenzo asked, inspecting the blank cover.
“That is everything you need to know about your new life.”
Lorenzo snorted. “New life? How does one live a life in darkness?” Carmella turned to him, her brows furrowed.
“Mr. Rinaud, what you speak of is a construct of time…day and night. Vampires and humans are merely on opposite circadian cycles. Just because we cannot go out in daylight, we must end our existence? I pegged you for someone more intelligent.” Carmella went over to her desk again, this time, pulling out a bottle of bourbon and two snifters. After pouring two glasses, she handed one to Lorenzo.
“Let’s make a toast…to your new life.”
~Pusher. Of. Pens.~
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