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Larynda awoke that morning to the soft sunlight of the new morning, glaring directly into her soft blue eyes. She grimaced as she rolled out of the warm bed and gently placed her feet on the hard, cold stone of the floor, feeling the chill from the night before. She stood up on her feet, gently stretching her body as she walked towards the window, looking out it for a brief moment before she reached up and closed the shutters, letting the darkness envelope the room once more. She stretched her upper body a little bit more as she walked back to her bed, gently sitting down on the now cold bedcovers. She sighed softly and looked around her room, slowly getting up and moving towards her closet and vanity table. She opened the closet doors carefully, the squeaking of the hinges heard most audibly as she slides them open.
She looks around inside, gently pushing aside several dresses of fine quality, looking for one in particular. She smiled gently as her gaze fell up on a very petite and elegant emerald colored dress marked with several layers of lace underneath. The short sleeves of the gown are tapered and lined with beads, as was the hem of the dress. She gently turned the gown around, smiling softly with approval as she headed towards the bed. As Larynda headed towards her bed, she reached it just as her door was opened. A slender young girl stood in the doorway, no more than twelve, her eyes lowered and head bowed as if in respect. "Miss, Yer mother has asked me to see if thee is ready for the days journey's, and has sent me up here to help thee if ye need it." The young girl kept her stance near the door, not moving a inch, as if she was afraid to make a sudden wrong move. Larynda looked at the girl and smiled softly, heading towards her. She stopped in front of the girl, gently placing a soft and delicate hand on her cheek, lifting her chin so as to look in her eyes. "Miriam, there is no shame in coming to see if I need help, you know out of everyone here in the castle, you are my favorite and most trusted helper." Miriam giggled a bit and nodded to Larynda, knowing far to well that she spoke the truth, for the other women were all hateful and full of gossip; that no one really cared to hear about.
Larynda gently gave Miriam a push out the door saying, "Miriam, tell mother I shall be down in a bit, I need to finish dressing and the like... i shall not be long." Miriam nodded and scurried down the stairs to where the madam of the castle was at, sitting in the parlor as usual with the other ladies. Larynda once more returned to her bed, gently sitting on its edge looking at the dress, frowning a bit as she thinks of all the gossiping ladies she has to spend time with today, especially that dreaded Mrs. Adelwood. That lady always gave her the creeps, no matter what anyone said about her, chills ran up her spine whenever she was near, was like standing next to death warmed over. Larynda shuddered at thinking about that ugly woman as she unbuttoned the back of the dress and gently sliding her feet into the dress, pulling it up and around her slender body. She slides her arms into the sleeves, pulling the dress up and over her bare body, feeling the softness and yet harshness of the material. She grumbled slightly as she reached around behind her back and commenced to button up her dress. She managed to button them all, dropping her arms to her sides as she lets out a soft and deep sigh of relief. She gently reached around and rubbed her arms from having to do her own buttons for a change, not wishing Miriam to have to do it all the time.
Larynda looked at her mother, a annoyed look on her face as she sweetly smiled saying, " I decided to get dressed how I wanted this morning. NO offense to Miriam, but even though she is one of the hired help, she should not to have do everything for me." Lady Cathline Evanara looks at her daughter and frowned a bit... shaking her head as if she did not agree with her. "Larynda, child, that is what Miriam is for." She reached forward and brought the cup, filled with hot tea to her lips, sipping it a bit as she raised her gaze to Larynda. "Aye mother, but there are times when you know I would rather do things myself." Cathline nodded in response to her answer and gently placed her cup back on the table in front of her. "Now if we are to go shopping today, I suggest we both go ahead and get ready, the ladies are waiting for us at the marketplace, and 'tis not a good idea to keep them waiting."
Larynda and Lady Cathline walk outside to their awaiting carriage, and one by one, climbed up into it, heading into town. Larynda sat there quietly, watching the rolling hills and passing carriages. She leaned back against the seat and sighed softly, seeming to think of something in a far off land. Cathline payed no mind to it... just kept on reading the book she had when Larynda came in. As the driver continued on the way to town, a sudden cry of help was heard off in the distance ahead. Larynda awoke from her daze and heard the cries. She looked towards her mother, who apparently did not care. At this point, Larynda started to feel a bit worried, as if something was about to happen, but did not know what. Her blue eyes darted back and forth from one side window of the carriage to the other. Her heart started pounding louder and louder in her chest, as the screams and cries got louder, then suddenly they stopped. Larynda then got this even worse, stomach wrenching feeling that this was not good. She pulled her cloak around her slender frame, as if looking and seeking comfort in it. Cathline was to enveloped in her book to really even notice that the carriage had slowed a bit.
As the carriage continued on its way, it followed a nearby stream that was used to let the horses drink from on the long journeys. As Larynda looked out over it, she suddenly saw, out of nowhere three horsemen, one wearing black robes and two others that seem to be wearing chain armor. Larynda got this awful feeling of a knot in her stomach as the riders approached even more rapidly than before. Just at that very moment, Cathline looked up and saw Larynda in a state like she was terrified. Cathline looked out the window next to her and saw the three horsemen right there... as if they just appeared there. She screeched slightly as the carriage was immediately slowed to halt and swords were heard drawn and the sudden yells and screams of the driver and footman as they were brutally slaughtered on sight.
Cathline and Larynda start to panic, and look for a way to escape. One of the men in armor slowly opened the door, a hideous, evil grin on his face as his gaze settled on both of the women. Larynda turned to look at the man and moved back and away as far as she could to the other door. Cathline looked at the man and shook as he nearedher, reaching out one of his gauntleted hands to grip her tightly round the arm. Cathline screamed with fear, her heart caught in her throat as her screams got louder. Larynda cringed near the other door, not able to move or do anything, the scene to frightful for her. The door opened next to Cathline as she was yanked out of the carriage. Her screams of fear could be heard as she was taken around to the front of the carriage, near the horses. Larynda cringed even more as she heard her mothers cries for help, but was unable to do anything at all.
As this was going on, the man in black robes appeared in front of the carriage door, looking in at her. His red eyes shimmered as he looked at her, an evil grin could be seen crossing his face. Larynda shuddered a bit as she saw that look, the look of pure evil. The robed figure climbed into the carriage and sat down across from her, gently laying his huge hands on his lap. She could sense the evil aura that emanated from him, something unusual that she had never felt before. She huddled in the corner of the carriage on the far side, her gaze locked on him as she felt the fear creeping inside her body. As she watched him, she heard a loud blood curdling scream from outside the carriage. She jerked up as she heard her mothers screams, leaning out the carriage window and to her horror, seeing a sight never seen before. The black robed figure sat there calmly, not even moving a inch as he heard the screams as well. He grinned to himself as he knew what was going on, what has befallen Cathline, a look of sheer joy and a look of pleasure came over him.
He saw the look on Larynda's face and grinned broadly, knowing she saw what was going on and liked it even more as he sensed her fear. Larynda cried out in fear at the sight she saw. One unlike she had never seen before. Out in front of the carriage, where her mother was taken, she saw a bloody, almost satanic sight. The two men in armor had removed their helms and tossed them on the ground, then taking Cathline and somehow pinning her to the ground. She laid there and screamed at the top of her lungs. As Larynda watched, one of the men seemed to make a hissing sound, as if almost snake like... but more than that. Her eyes grew wide as she watched him kneel down quickly at her mothers side and opened his mouth as two, protruding fangs could be seen. He leaned down quickly and took his hands, pushing Cathline's hair aside as he sank his fangs into her neck. Cathline screamed in pain and horror, unable to move as the pain shot up her neck to her head, the pain to strong to withstand.
Larynda screamed out in horror, tears rolling down her face as she watched the ghoulish scene. She yelled out to her mom, but she did not respond, all her cries for help had faded just as quickly as they started. Larynda suddenly had this sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she saw the man raise up onto his feet, and Cathline's body laid on the ground, limp as if there was no life in her. Her body laid on the cold ground, gone pale as a sheet, as if it had been drained of all its life-force. The two men grinned at each other and headed towards the carriage, almost floating above the ground as if they were not of this world. Larynda crouched back from the window, the man in the black robes just watching her, not having even said a word since he arrived inside the carriage. She turned to him, anger, fear, and sadness prevalent in her features.
He reached up gently with slender fingers and removed the hood from his head. As he did, she saw not a old man as she had thought quietly to herself, but a rather young looking gentleman. She looked at him, looking at his features, the black silky looking mass of hair atop his head, all nice and neatly trimmed. His brown eyes gazing upon her as she looked into them, and as she did, they slightly shimmered a red color just behind the retinas, as if with a unnatural force of their own. He sat up gently and straight, staring at Larynda a bit more, taking in what he saw and grinning, as if he enjoyed what he saw. The dark - haired man looked down at the fragile girl below him. So innocent, pure and full of life... a beautiful girl on the verge of womanhood. He smiled. It was only TOO perfect.
"Larynda... a charming name." How...?" She asked, feeling as if she's walking through a dream. "I know your thoughts better than you do yourself, girl. I am Melanthus. Benedict?" "Yes?" The other figure drifted over to Melanthus' side. "We are taking this one with us. I find her... intriguing." Melanthus... what of the Council? They may not like the idea of you creating another one so soon..." Melanthus turned to Benedict, his features hardening into flint. "Benedict, I rule the council as its leader. Did I not create the Council of Five?" "Yes, Melanthus... but you will only be leader as long as you have the Council's approval. Remember, even you are bound by its rules, rules you set down yourself." "Are you defying me, Benedict?" "No, My Lord...I only wish to remind you of how this might look to the other members of the Council." Melanthus glared at Benedict, then nodded. "I shall take your words under advisement... but she IS coming back with us. I have plans for her." Larynda struggled to speak, but her voice would not come forth; it was as if stone walls were placed around her throat. Then Melanthus turned back to her and the blackness claimed her.
When Larynda awoke once again her only companion was a rat. She shrieked and rolled away from the rat, who scampered back to its hole and watched her with small black eyes. Larynda looked around her to find herself in a dank cell. No windows gave her the chance to see where she was, only three stone walls and a line of iron bars, through which she could see only other cells like hers. Although none of the cells were empty, she was the only living occupant. The smell of the charnel house was thick around her, and her eyes teared up at the stench of it. The cells about her held bodies in varying stages of decay and dissolution, from bodies not more than an hour dead to bare skeletons. All wore women's clothing, mostly sleep clothes, with a few exceptions. One half-decayed , flyblown corpse wore the gown of a woman at a masquerade, the once - bright colors now dimmed by age. Her delicate lace gloves served as a boarding house for maggots. Her face still bore its mask, a grotesque hag's face underneath that mask. Yet another wore a nun's habit, viciously torn and brutalized. The nun must have died only a day before, because her face was a deep white. Larynda could not bear to look at the nuns face for very long, for it bore a look of such pain and terror that Larynda thought that she would go mad if forced to look at it a moment longer. God only knew what wounds lay beneath the dark folds of the nun's clothing. The worst was the corpse of a small child, barely older than ten. She was emaciated to little better than skin stretched over bones, her eyes still intact despite her advanced desiccation. The eyes were of a clear, crystal blue, shocking in their purity of color despite the death that surrounded them. Larynda only took one look at them before moving her eyes away instantly, finding refuge in the darkness of her own eyelids.
She lay there, senseless, until she heard footsteps; boots on stone. Larynda lay there, shuddering, wondering what monster could have brought her here. She could only remember riding with her mother and then... nothing at all. Nothing till this crypt. "Hello," came a soft voice and she looked up to see a dark-haired man, wearing the clothes of a gentleman under an Inverness cloak. His only ornament was a gold brooch pinned to his waistcoat, a black dragon in a gold medallion. "It is good that I have found you, child. Are you ready to leave this place of darkness?" "Where...where am I?" Larynda asked hesitantly. "Someplace between Purgatory and Hell, between darkness and the utter black that is that place where God's light never shines. I wish to take you out of here, Larynda, but before I do, I wish to speak with you."
"Take me from this place!!" Larynda begged, a light of hope suddenly growing in her. "Take me out of this crypt and back to my mom!" "Ahh, yes, your mother... I have some terrible news for you, my dear. She is dead, as are you." "Dead...?" Larynda gasped. "I am not..." "But you are dead, my dear. Are you not among the decay of those who came before you?" The man smiled. "You are quite dead, my dear, and you are here awaiting the Judgment of the Almighty. I fear for your soul, child, for you died in a most vile fashion... you are clearly destined for a very hot place indeed. The fires of Hell, for all Eternity." "NO!!" Larynda leaped at the bars, pulling at them in a futile attempt to break free. "This can not be!!!" "But it is... and there is no hope for you now."
The gentleman bowed his head. Larynda struggled with hysteria as all hope died within her. She dropped to the cold stone, nearly senseless with shock. "However...there may be a way." Larynda looked up at the gentleman again. "How...?" "I must go. There is little time left before you are taken away to fire and brimstone, and I must try to rescue you from your fate. I warn you, however... you may have to make a pledge; a solemn vow of service, should you be able to escape your fate. Think of this... and be prepared to choose. I must away." The gentleman turned with a swirl of his cloak and hurried up the stairs.
Larynda crawled away from the bars, unwilling to bear the sight of devils coming for her. She was past hysteria now, embracing a white-hot fear of the ultimate, eternal torment of Hell. She didn't even wonder who the messenger was, but she did not wait long to make her choice. She would do ANYTHING to leave. Melanthus closed the stone door to the dungeon and smiled, then went up the stairs to the Main Hall. After closing the hidden panel by the fireplace, he went to the head of the table and sat down imperiously, matching the bearing of a King despite the fact that he was the only one in the room. He summoned his servant, Rochelle. She was once an attractive young woman, quite famous for her sparkling eyes and willing, wanton demeanor. Then Melanthus had run across her and decided that her behavior was offensive to him. He engaged her mind, leaving a fantasy for her that she was his only love, and within a week, Rochelle had abandoned her old life to go away with Melanthus to the hill of Greece.
Once her trip was complete, Melanthus had imprisoned Rochelle and forced her to accept a new life; that as a servant, not a spouse. In addition to her service, Melanthus added another entrapment, made entirely of her own vanity. He gave her a potion that would prolong her life and beauty, but only for a few years. As soon as the touch of age set in, Rochelle was forced to add more years to her servitude in exchange for another dose of the concoction. Rochelle was now over five hundred years old, and her age was starting to show. She now looked like a woman entering her forties. "Yes,milord," she asked dully. Centuries of taking the potion had taken effect; Melanthus "neglected" to tell her that an added side effect of the elixir was a drop in willpower. By now, she no longer cared how beautiful she was, only that the elixir kept her alive. Rochelle couldn't even manage to will to attempt suicide, a fact Melanthus had planned when he gave Rochelle her first dose.
Melanthus smiled. He enjoyed the slack eyes, the server maid's uniform she wore inspite of her, magically prolonged appearance, the lack of spirit he found so intolerable centuries ago. She was, like his Children, the walking dead... only she was alive. Sort of. "Tell the servants to keep the furnace well stoked and to open the vents to the dungeons. There is a bottle of sulfur in storage; take it to the furnace and have the servants brush the logs liberally with the yellow dust before putting them in the furnace. I have a guest down below who is feeling a bit chill. Let her feel the warmth. "Yes, milord." "Tell them to continue for two days and two nights. On the eve of the second night, remind me to check the dungeons again." "Yes, milord." "Now, it is high time you took your medicine. Go to the pantry and look for the crystal phial with the purplish black liquid inside. Drink it all. Afterwards, contact the Council and tell them to meet here in four days. Once you have completed these tasks, continue with your work." "Yes, milord." She turned and walked away, her feet shuffling across the luxuriously thick carpet. Melanthus smiled with supreme satisfaction and returned to the book he was reading, a lusty novel from London, delightfully decadent in its portrayal of life in the countryside.
By the time Melanthus returned to the dungeon, it had changed from cold and damp to warm and humid. The smell of the corpses in the other cells was stymieing in its strength, but Melanthus held his bearing as he came to Larynda's cell. Larynda lay there, senseless, long past hysteria and verging on the precipice of total madness at the thought of what lay beyond these cells. She didn't even notice as Melanthus drew near her cell. Her eyes flew up at the sound of the cell door opening, uttering a small shriek of metal sliding on metal. When she saw that it was Melanthus, she ran to him, her feet propelling her headlong into him and grasping him tightly. "...please don't let them take me to hell please, please , please don't let them take me there help me, help me...!!!"
Melanthus smiled. The preparations were complete. "Relax, my child.. I can take you away from this... but you must Swear to me your servitude. Only then can I make a case for you as my ward." Larynda looked up at him with half crazed eyes. "I swear I will do anything you ask just please TAKE ME OUT OF HERE...!!!"
"I shall." Melanthus picked her up easily, feeling her arms clutch about him as he walked back up to the light of the room above the dungeon. Surely it must feel like entering Heaven to her...* Melanthus had to resist the urge to laugh at the irony as he walked back into the Main hall and placed her limp body upon the table there. The Council surrounded her, other vampires, many of whom Melanthus himself had brought across to their current state. They sat in stony silence as Melanthus took his place at the head of the table and smiled at them all. "She is the one. Look at her carefully, because she will soon be your sister."
"Melanthus... I must protest." Melanthus turned as Allirya stood up, dressed in the finery of a lady of the Royal Court. "And why is that?" "There is a tenuous balance, Milord. Every vampire you create causes a small ripple across the world, bringing in one who will feed upon the living as we do. But if you upset the balance and create more of us, more than the world's people can safely feed, you will alert the humans to our presence. There are already more of us than is prudently allowed."
"Allowed? By whom? YOU? I created this Council, I created most of you, and those I did not were created by those I created. I alone determine what is safe and what is not. Why do you broach this to me now? There are more than enough to sustain us all, and twenty times that." "But what of our requests, our own desires? Some of us desire our own companions, Melanthus, and we have petitioned you for them long before this little thing was even born!"
"SILENCE!!! "Melanthus thundered, slamming his fist down, a hairline crack in the thick oak blossoming under the impact. "Don't presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, Allirya... or any of the rest of you. You all exist because of my will alone." "No, Melanthus... we CONTINUE to exist because of you."
Melanthus turned towards the young looking boy at the far end. Thalas was only ten when Melanthus took him... one could not tell simply by looking at him that he was older than the Roman Coliseum in Italy. "Are you mocking me, Thalas?" "No. I am stating what is. Whether you choose to accept it or not, Melanthus, is up to you."
"That sounds like a challenge, Thalas. WARS have been started for less!" "I am not denying you what you think is your right, nor the rest of us. You ask us for counsel, Melanthus. That is why we convene here and that is what we are giving you. Accept it or reject it as you will."
"I DO reject it, Thalas, on this matter. She is mine... the convening of this Council is only to accept this and recognize her as such. Do not concern yourself with the duties of teaching her; I will see to that myself. Does anyone else challenge this decision?"
The room was very silent. Not even crickets were heard. "Very well. Unless there are any other matters you wish to address to me, leave us. I have some duties to attend to..." Melanthus smiled as he looked down at the unconscious Larynda. "...and much to teach her." The others silently left as Melanthus bent over Larynda, placing his tender kiss upon her Bosom... and taking her from the realm of the living.
The next few days were spent in an agonizing pain that Larynda would never forget. Melanthus used his mind to move through hers like a rich man walking through a grand mansion that would be his new home. As Melanthus picked through her brain, he left little "gifts" behind, mental suggestions and commands that would take effect as soon as he left her brain. Altered memories, modified ethics and morals, information on what she was and how she was to survive... all of these Melanthus casually used to make Larynda his completely and totally. Well... not TOTALLY. To make her existence more interesting to him, he did not remove her will and personality, like other slaves and creations he had made before. It wasn't enough that Melanthus would control her and dictate to her her very existence... he also wanted her spirit broken. *After all,* he thought, *what enjoyment would I get from someone who yielded to me without a fight. The stronger the fight... the sweeter the surrender.*
When he was done, three days had passed; during which Melanthus had made Larynda a powerful vampyress. Implanting within her subconscious the capability to go from innocent waif to talented seductress as needed for her hunting, making her aware of her body and how to best use it to attract male humans for feeding. Lastly, he implanted a subtle, but growing need to corrupt and subvert that which was pure and innocent, like she herself once was. Melanthus smiled as he imagined what she would do to others, a sheep and a wolf in the same animal. Melanthus shook his head and smiled, weary but delighted at his work. "Rise, Larynda... rise and look at me."
Larynda laid motionless for a few minutes, then slowly opens her eyes, having changed to a dull red shade. She seems almost lost, not sure what to think or do. She slowly brought her gaze up to Melanthus, her facial expressions none the happier. She winced a bit in pain as she felt her insides burning with such pain as she has never felt before. She cringes a bit.. the most gawd awful feeling overwhelming her. She looked at Melanthus, with a look of almost hate can be seen, but also a expression of fear that can still be seen in her eyes. She sits up slowly, her hair gently draping around her shoulders, her gaze not leaving Melanthus's face. She places a hand to her head, feeling a migraine coming on. She feels different, not sure how to explain it. She winces a bit, the burning sensation inside her worsening. She slowly opens her mouth to speak, "What have you done to me?" She nearly hisses out, anger now in her gaze as she feels extremely cold, and that damned burning sensation not leaving her body. Melanthus looked at her and grinned, knowing all to well that he definitely loved what he saw.
He saw the fire burning in her eyes, the one thing that had caught his eyes about her, that she herself had never noticed. He stood over her and looked down at her, extremely happy with the job he had done with her. He thought to himself, that this was almost to good to be true. He could not imagine until now that she would be one of the most stunning and yet extremely strong willed ones that he had created. He chuckled lightly at her words, a grin curling his lips. "I have given you a new life. One that you shall share with me, for you are now mine."
Larynda looked at him, more hate in her eyes, but knowing what he said to be true. She had accepted his offer, one she could not refuse if she was to ever leave that dungeon . She sat up right, feeling her body ache as if she had been beaten. As she looked at her hands, she noticed that they were even a paler shade of what they formerly were. The anger inside her welling up more, but she fought against the urge to release it. She clenched her hands into fists and sat there, not even looking up at Melanthus. She took in a deep breath, and slowly let it out, trying to calm her nerves. She felt so cold, and yet was so angry, she did not even understand at the time what she had become. The one thing that had gotten her attention was the fact that her senses were different. She could tell and hear things like never before, as if they were heightened. She slowly stood up, feeling a bit weak, placing a slender hand to her forehead as she tried to keep her balance. She finally managed to look up at Melanthus, seeing is grin on his lips still as he stood there with his arms crossed around his chest. She stood there and could feel her anger welling up inside her still, looking up at his handsome features and seeing that grin, made her even madder. She let out a hiss as she looked at him, pulling back her arm, her hand still clenched in a fist. She let out a horrid yell and brought the fist directly towards Melanthus's face. Melanthus knew that was coming and as if out of nowhere, his hand came up to block hers, grasping it tightly as he stopped the blow before it even got to him. "Now then, do we feel better my student, I would think so after letting out some of your anger. As you can see my dear, I know more and can feel more than you know at this very moment." Larynda gasped at the speed and knowing of what she was about to do, as if he could read her mind. She reluctantly dropped her hand back down to her side, but Melanthus still had his hand wrapped around hers. He looked at her with a grin and lessened his grip, sliding his hand into hers and gently now gripping it.
Larynda looked up at him, her once blue eyes now a soft shade of red, could look past that grin of his and tell that he did not do what he did on purpose. That he did it for another reason, cause if he had wanted to and chose so, he would of let her rot in the dungeon, not even considering letting her out. She shook just a bit, feeling her nerves slightly on edge as she realized that she is now no longer amongst the living, that she had become one of the children that walked the night, that embraced the darkness that nightfall had brought. She shook her head gently and sighed, knowing full well now why she felt as she did.
Melanthus smiled now, the grin gone from his lips as he looked down at her. "You now understand what you are, I can tell in your expressions and by what you are thinking." Larynda looked up at him, her face saddened a bit as she lets out a soft sigh. The anger that was once in her face is now gone, replaced with that of worry and fear. She tilted her head down, looking away from Melanthus, a soft and gentle whisper is heard, "Why did you do this, what was your purpose of taking me into this nightmare?" She let out a sad sigh, still holding Melanthus's hand in hers. Melanthus looked down at her, taking his other hand and gently placing it on top of her head. He gently ran his fingers through her hair as he slowly pulled her closer to his body. He brought the hand that was running through her hair down to her waist as he gently let go of her hand and doing the same with that hand. He smiled to himself knowing he had Finally won her over, and that she would totally be his.
Larynda shuddered a bit as she neared his body, all her emotions and fears sliding away from her. She gently, yet almost hesitantly wraps her arms around his waist as she nears his body, a few tears welling up in her eyes. "Please, tell me why you did this to me." She said softly in a low voice, almost like a young girls. Melanthus looked down at her as his hand gently slid up and down her back. He whispered softly, the tone in his voice not the usual harshness she had heard before, " I did this cause I did not want the others to kill you. You have stirred something in me I have not felt before by anyone else I have brought across. I want you to stay with me forever, Larynda. I thought it was the best way to keep you, should we say 'alive', rather than let the others take you and use you as they saw fit."
Larynda looked at Melanthus, not sure if she believed what he said or not. She did believe him that she was now one of his kind, yet... her own instincts told her she should not trust him at all. That if he really cared about her, he would not have killed her mother or did this horrid thing to her. Yet, she could not deny that this "monster" was yet, handsome, nearly attractive in every way. The way he looked at her made her stomach get tied in knots constantly when he was near. She was so confused, her emotions no longer the same as they were before her transformation, and yet, now... they seem even stronger in some ways, more heightened and sensitive. She could sense things she never could before, and she loved it. Yet, she was not gonna let Melanthus have her so easily. The thought of giving him the pleasure of knowing she gave in to him made her ill. She would never give in to him, never. Even though now, feeling his hands gently running through her hair made her feel things she never did before, she still vowed that she would not give in under any circumstances. Melanthus looked down at Larynda, his eyes gleaming with a sort of content yet almost evil glint in his eyes. He brought up one of his hands to her cheek and gently caressed the soft, pale flesh of her skin, thinking to himself in the back of his mind that she must be up to something, this was way to easy, yet... can it be true. Larynda's education took a sharp turn one cold November morning.
It was the night of the full moon. The year was 1706 and Larynda had celebrated her two-hundred-and-twelfth birthday. The young, fragile girl still looked the same as that night less than two hundred years ago, but inside, she was a hard-bitten, battle scarred predator. In that time, Larynda learned to hunt, then to enjoy the hunt, then to relish it, savor it the way wine drinkers appreciate a good burgundy or a fresh, impertinent port. Both the dregs of society and the cream of the Royal Court were hers to be had, anytime she wished. And yet... Larynda enjoyed her life, at least after her initial stage of apprenticeship to Melanthus. Once she learned how to survive, not to mention how she could taste other pleasures once forbidden to her, she shocked herself as she took hold of her new unlife and strove to experience every taboo, everything that was barred to her by law and morals.
Melanthus proved to be an excellent lover, teaching her how to blur the line between sexual expression and the spilling of blood, and many were the nights when she found herself shrieking in pleasure, her naked form covered with the blood of mortals. But as time grew on, her experiences began to lay heavy upon her, and she found herself looking for other pleasures to fulfill her jaded senses. As the years passed, Melanthus found that his ward's atrocities began to grow in scope, the depths of her scheming reaching into the Royal Courts of England, France and Spain. The intrigues of Larynda's plans began to cause unrest and chaos within and without, reaching to the threat of all-out war; Melanthus found himself needing to restrain his ward from indulging in such matters. Luckily, someone else did that for him.
On that fateful night in November, someone came looking for Larynda. Larynda, Using her latest nom de plume, Lady Jericha of Buckingham, waited for her newest "toy" to join her at the front doors. She was dressed in the finest of gowns, her luxurious hair needing no crafted wig to follow the styles of the French elite. Her face was delicately pale, as always, with only her delicately rouged cheeks, red lips and startling eyes to display any color. As she looked around for her latest acquisition, her eyes caught sight of an older woman, her advanced age showing despite the best of French fashion techniques to hide it. She snickered openly. "I am more than three times your senior, mortal, yet I look better than you ever could," she whispered under her breath triumphantly, but there was something about the woman that made Larynda angry. She continued to watch to woman talking with her friends, and Larynda's heightened senses picked out that the woman was talking about her son, who was graduating from the University at Oxford, and had a promising career as a barrister. A young man walked up to the woman, who introduced him as her son. Larynda started to see that...*This woman will be dust in a decade or so... how DARE she be so...so...* She stopped as she realized that she was becoming angry, distractedly so, and she didn't even know why.
"Mademoiselle Jericha?" Larynda barely registered the alias in time and turned to see her "toy" standing beside her. "What distresses you so, cheri?" "I..." Larynda shook her head. "It is nothing, Henri. Let us go, the light calls to us, and I have many things to show you, lover. MANY things." She forced a winning smile and pulled him through the doors and out into the Paris night. They walked along the street, Larynda playing the part of the dilletante-with-nothing-better-to-do-than-seduce-young-men, chattering away about nothing. But inside, a bestial hatred of that unknown woman boiled within Larynda's breast and she wished to go back to that gala, to find that woman and her son, to kill them both in unimaginable ways... and she couldn't understand what was enraging her so. As they walked along the Champs-Elysees, Larynda suddenly pulled Henri into an alleyway. "My Lady...!" he said in surprise. "The blood runs hot in me, lover..." Larynda hissed into his ear as she embraced him fiercely, turning her anger into predatory passion. "I desire you, and I beg you to take me now, here, in this secret place... I can wait no longer...!" she demanded as she tore her gown away savagely. "I shall, my love..." Henri said breathlessly, taking off his jacket as Larynda clutched at him, kissing his neck. She could feel the warm blood beneath his skin and the smell of him enflamed her even more. "Satisfy me, Henri... and I shall make you remember this night..." she hissed, feeling his warm body against hers, her fangs coming forth. "...remember this night FOREVER..."
Then a brand of white-hot flame pierced her and she fell back. Larynda as no stranger to pain; Melanthus often used it to heighten her desire during their intimate hours together. But this was beyond pain, beyond agony. She tried to scream, but nothing would come out as she lost all power to move or speak. Her head hit the back of the wall behind her and she collapsed, lying on the muddy stone of the alleyway. She could still see, but what she saw chilled her even as the pain threatened to drive her mad. A wooden stake had pierced her chest just under her left breast. Blood gushed around the wound and she fought to stay conscious. "You certainly know a great deal about forever, don't you, cheri?" Larynda was paralyzed and could not look up at Henri, but from the way his feet and legs were placed, he was obviously looking down at her. "But your hellish existence has reached its end, MY LADY," he said with disgust. "You have no idea how difficult it was being this close to you, knowing what you were. How you revolted me... but it was worth it to drive an abomination like you back to Hell."
Henri fixed his clothes and picked up his jacket again, withdrawing four pieces of metal from four inside pockets. "There exists only one thing left to do. I should leave you to the cleansing rays of the sun, but I have no time to stay and savor your destruction. Therefore, I have to perform this bloody deed." Henri assembled the four pieces into a short pickaxe, locking the pieces into place. "May the Lord God have mercy on your damned soul, wretched creature!" he cried at last, raising the axe to strike.
The axe never fell. A dark shadow blotted out all light in the alley and Henri's last mistake was to pause in his attack long enough to look up to see what the cause of the darkness was. By then, it was too late. A horrible pain wrenched through Larynda's body and she blacked out. Larynda opened her eyes to find herself back in her own coffin. She started to sit up and renewed pain forced her to lie back again, her breath hissing between her teeth as her head hit the satin pillow. A shape came into view, resolving itself into... "Melanthus...!" Larynda said weakly.
"I am very disappointed in you," he said coldly. "How could you let a Hunter get so close to you? How??" A tinge of fear crept into her voice. "I didn't..." Melanthus slammed his fist into the lid of her coffin, reducing it to kindling in an instant and Larynda shut her eyes. "You let your guard down. You allowed a Hunter to get close enough to you to stake you. He was ready to behead you, to bestow upon you the Second Death, and all because you wanted a new thrill. You have embarrassed me for the last time, Larynda." Melanthus sighed. "But it is not entirely your fault... I let you encourage your passions without restraint and I should never have let one so young go so far."
Larynda said nothing, but moved her hands up to cover her bosom. "The stake..." "I removed it and healed you, Larynda. It was very close... you almost went to Hell, for real this time." He held up the stake, coated with dried, blackened blood. "See this, remember it." "Henri...?" Larynda struggled to a sitting position despite the pain. "Is he...?" "Dead? No... but I'll wager by now he wishes he was. He is below, in my dungeon." "How long have I slept here?" "Nearly a month."
"A month??" Larynda winced as she looked around her. "I must see Henri." "NO. You have made a fool of yourself once for this man. I will not allow it to happen again." "I must have my revenge upon him for what he has done!" "You must EARN your right to avenge your pain, Larynda. Until then, he is mine." Larynda snarled, "I will see him in Hell...!" "By now, Hell would be a less painful existence than what I have for him now. If you obey me, Larynda, I may let you watch someday. In the meantime, you will abandon your games in politics and concentrate on your recovery. Never have I seen one of my kind brought so close to the Second Death and, if I have my way, no one will be so ever again. Now get some rest, Larynda. Elaine will be along to feed you later."
Four hours had passed, and Larynda laid in her coffin still, the top opened so she could look out up at the ceiling, a frown creasing her slender lips as she sat in thought as to what Melanthus had said to her. She crossed her arms over her chest, wishing that she could figure out what she was going to do about her situation now. She let her hands drift down her chest a bit, moving them over the spot where the stake had been rammed into her, her stomach sinking a bit more now as she thought of what nearly happened to her, finally realizing why Melanthus had been so worried about her. She shook her head lightly as she suddenly heard a light rap at the door to her chambers. She sat up slowly in the coffin, managing to drag her still slightly weakened body from it as she stood up and smoothed out her dress, heading towards the door slowly, the pain still present in her body as she took each step, reminding her of the near fatal accident. She Slowly opened the door, seeing it was Elaine with the nights food that Melanthus had promised. She motioned to the table near the coffin, waving her hand a bit as she sighed and turned towards it.
