Night Son - Chapter 1

The night was young. The shadows were long and deep like a river. The trees were silent as if they too were holding their breaths. There was nothing but silence and darkness, and the smell of fresh, warm blood. A pack of wolves felling a deer perhaps. That would have been anyone's first guess. The sickenly sweet scent of the kill wafted through the silent and dead woods like an omen of ill fortune, drawing out the carrion eaters. Soon they too will have their turn to feast. That is, if that sickenly sweet smell of blood belonged to a dead deer. It was the smell of living blood, blood that was still being forced throughout the body by a beating, living heart. The blood belonging to something, nay, someone that was alive and breathing.

A cloud that had been standing still finally moved, uncloaking the moon behind it. The unearthly pale cold light illuminated the leaf littered floor, and the dark silhouette of a town emerged from the shadows. Yellow eyes peered out into the woods, and quickly closed their lids for the night. One by one, the other buildings followed suite. Once more the shadows reclaimed the town as their own. Except they did not claim one building.

Its wide yellow orange eyes stared into the woods with fear, but no shadows came to claim it. It stood in a circle of its own dim light, the darkness gnawing at the ring's edges. Its mouth was closed, but not closed tightly. Its teeth rattled, its hair ruffled, and its earring swung in the softest of breaths. Noises oozed through its closed mouth and rattling teeth. Noises that rose and fell, and ranged from pleasure to sorrow, from laughter to whispers. All of those different noises rolled into one produced a loud single voice. Its breath reeked of smoke, ale, and sweat. There was another scent, and it was sickenly sweet. It was the smell of fresh, warm blood belonging to someone living.

He forced the mouth open with his slender hands, and he walked past the rattling teeth. The innards were busy with life while the outside was as silent as the grave. The noises were louder, more clear as he skulked inwards. The smell of smoke, ale and sweat was more sharp and sickening as he walked through the teeming throng. The sight was much better. Pillars made of oak wood held the roof up, and rafters helped hold the roof together. Dim comforting light pulsed from the crystal lanterns that hung from hooks on the pillars. The stools at the bar were taken by men who had to keep readjusting their lower halves so they would not topple off. The tables were scattered throughout the large room, and most of them were claimed by more large men.

He worked his way through the crowd, keeping his gaze averted and head down. Yet he remained aware of his surroundings. He remained alert for her. He found an empty table in the far and darkest corner of the room. He took a seat and positioned himself so that his back was resting against the wall, and so that he could get an excellent view of the whole room. His slender frame was lost in the folds of his sanguine traveling cloak, and his eyes were hidden in the shadows cast by the hood and dim light. He kept his head down, his face hidden in the darkness, but his hidden eyes flickered from person to person, from face to face. He did not recognize most of them. But now and again he saw someone he had seen before during his short stay. Yet he did not see her.

His gaze quickly drifted across the crowd, landing on faces that he knew from earlier. Or on faces that he thought he recognized. Or on the face that he thought belonged to her. Perhaps she had already left for bed. But he knew she was not sleeping. She retired around eleven thirty, and it was only ten sharp. He could not help but wonder where she was.

His eyes continued to pierce the crowd, looking for her. It should not have been that difficult to locate her. She should have been seen by now, and he was starting to grow anxious. But he could wait. He has been waiting for most of his life, and waiting a few more minutes would not harm him. Yet, he had to complete his plan quickly before his time was up. And his time was approaching him on swift, black wings.

He finally spotted her. She was delivering mead to some men who apparently already had one too many. She was the most gorgeous moon elf he had ever seen. Long silky blue black hair that fell down her straight back in soft waves, her creamy white skin glowed in the dim light, her large dark blue eyes sparkled with life, and her full red lips were parted into a smile. She was clothed in gossamer pants and a shirt that hugged her curved body perfectly. He watched her movements carefully. Graceful and yet strong. She was perfect. He stared as she made her way over to his table, and he pulled out cards from a hidden cloak pocket, and set up a game of solitaire.

“Sir? May I get you anything?” she asked, her voice golden and silvery rolled into one and carrying a delicate accent.

“I have dinner plans for later,” was all he said, not looking up from his game. He too carried a faint accent.

The moon elf tilted her head. “How about a drink, then?”

“No thank you,” came the blunt reply. There was a ruffle of cards as he shuffled them.

“Well, have a good night, sir,” she said, her voice betraying her concern. She walked away from his table, and he noted the sudden quickness in her stride.

“Oh, I will have a good night,” he whispered with a grin. He looked out the window, and saw that it was only ten thirty. Only an hour to go. He set up another game of solitaire, and pulled up an ace. He looked up from his game, and to the silnen. She was talking to the man who was in charge of the building, a portly man with a trimmed mustache, and a double braided beard.

He shrugged inwardly and went back to his solitaire game. Slowly and one by one the patrons left for home. Men staggered out into the aging gloom, and he could hear wet coughs and splats and retching outside from those who had too much to drink. The noise grew dimmer and dimmer, and quieter and quieter. The smell lessened dramatically till only the stink of smoke floated in the air. There was another smell. A sickenly sweet smell of blood. It was now eleven.

There were a few other people in the room remaining. The sharp slap of his cards seemed to be muffled by the pressing, suffocating gloom. He watched her even more carefully now. She was currently picking up littered bottles that either fallen from the table, or were carelessly tossed aside. The owner was serving a man who apparently was drowning his sorrow with beer. They were only four left in the deathly quiet room. Where it had once been a place of noise and life, was now claimed by silence and emptiness. The silence greeted them with its cold embrace, and the once welcoming lights were now almost ominous. The building was deserted, and a gust of wind rattled the teeth and ruffled the hair. The building moaned in protest. The building now seemed more alive, and now a threat.

He watched her sweep the shards into a pile and gather the glittering green pieces into a tray. He watched her carry them to the garbage bag, and dump the shards into it. He watched the portly owner help the drunk and depressed man up the stairs, and he heard the sharp click of the knob, and following that came the groan of the hinges. He heard the squeak of the bed springs, and another groan, and another click. He heard the heavy footsteps of the portly man coming down the stairs, he heard the creaking of the stairs. He remained seated when the owner waddled towards him.

“Sir, `tis thirty till midnight. We're closing down,” the man said, his accent as heavy as his physical weight.

“I will be leaving shortly,” came the blunt reply.

“Well, be that way, sir. `Tis not safe this hour you know. With all them wolves out there,”

“I will be fine. Thank you for the concern,”

The man blinked in surprise. “Well, goodnight, sir. Do not stay here much longer,” The owner turned and waddled to his room which was behind the bar. He bid the moon elf good night before he shut the door.

She stood there and stared absently at the door, and her large dark blue eyes flicked to him. She shuddered visibly as if from cold, and she quickly retreated to her own private room. He stood up and slowly, silently followed her. He heard her door shut, and he turned his hooded head in the direction of the noise. He followed the passageway downwards, following the sickenly sweet scent of her blood.

He slowly pursued her, dogging her. The darkness welcomed him, pulled him into their cold, loving embrace. The darkness would help him, excite him. He found the door the led to her private room, and he felt her cowering within. He reached for the door knob, and tried to turn it. Not to his surprise, he found it locked. His gaze drifted down from the brass doorknob down to the keyhole. H could feel the blackness on the other side, he could feel and smell her fear oozing through the door.

He lifted one hand up to the keyhole, revealing long slender deathly pale fingers. Each digit ended in long pointed nails that resembled claws. He slipped the tip of his claw of his index finger into the hole, and twisted it. He heard a satisfying click along with a muffled whimper, and he drew back his finger. Once more he tried the door, and this time the knob turned. He pushed open the door, the hinges groaning in protest. Again the darkness greeted and embraced him, and he appeared to be a darker shadow against the inky blackness.

His eyes scanned the tiny wooden room slowly, eventually landing on the hunched and shivering silnen in one corner of the room. Her eyes appeared larger in her face as she watched him step into the room. He closed and locked the door behind him, the room more shrouded in shadow. The moon elf's silvery white skin made her very visible in the dark, making her appear to be a ghost.

He took another step and another, his booted feet not making any noise on the hard wooden floor. She tried to make herself smaller, tried to make herself invisible. But he continued to stalk closer to her.

“Keep away from me!” she hissed, glaring up at him. “Leave me alone!”

He did not answer. Both hands went slowly up the hood and grasped it. He flung the hood back, some his face revealed. Two golden yellow eyes glittered from the shadows, his revealed face deathly pale gray. Long silky blue black hair cascaded out from the hood, and he brushed it back and tucked it behind a pointed ear. The silnen drew in a quick breath as she realized what he was. He stepped closer, his face an expressionless mask. She tried to become smaller, but she did not succeed. What was left of her anger and courage was replaced by more ever consuming fear. He was less than a foot away from her now.

He stopped and kneeled before her, and he tilted his head so he could see her face better. The emptiness that had been on his face was gone. It was replaced by gentleness and comfort. His hand slowly lifted and he went to stroke her hair. She flinched away from his touch. He respectively drew back his hand and simply sat there, looking at her.

“I am not going to hurt you,” he said slowly and softly.

“Then what are you doing here in my room?” she demanded angrily.

He paused briefly. “I…need your help.”

“How can I, a slave, help you? Why should I help a vampire?”

“As to your last question, I never wanted to be a vampire. There is more to me than meets the eye. And to your first question, I fear a vampire hunter found my trail. In just a few days, he will find and kill me. I beg of you, please help me,”

She listened to him carefully, listened to his tone and choice of words. She found that she believed him. “What do you want me to do?”

“Hide me. Any place where it is dark so he cannot see me. A place where he will not ever look.”

“Where would that be?”

“A room perhaps,”

“Why not mine? I have a secret door under my bed where I keep my treasures,”

He grinned. “That will do nicely. Can you show me, please?”

She nodded and stood up. She moved her bed aside, revealing a trap door. She turned the latch and pulled it open. Darkness yawned up at them, and she carefully led them down into the hole, and he silently pulled the bed over the door and closed the lid. He turned and surveyed the tiny room. There was another bed down there, and a worn carpet lay on the floor. Various objects from combs to dolls and a mirror lay scattered through the little room.

She lit a crystal, and he flung his arm over his eyes and hissed in pain. She quickly turned the lamp off. “Sorry,”

“'Tis alright. Not the first time that has happened,” he rubbed and blinked his eyes. “And that is probably going to be my last.”

She frowned visibly, and turned her back to him. “I am very sorry about all this. I wish there was more I could do.”

He walked up behind her and gently wrapped his arms around her waist. She at first stiffened from his unexpected touch, but she quickly relaxed. He bent his neck and whispered into her long pointed ear, “I thank you.”

She relaxed more at his words, and she tilted her head back so that is was resting against his slender chest. They stood there in silence, not moving so that they appeared to be statues made up or ivory or marble. She tilted her head back more so that she was peering up at his face. She saw his face looking back down at her, and he was smiling gently and warmly. She turned around so that her chest was pressing up against his. He once more wrapped his arms around her waist, and she did the same. She looked away suddenly and averted her gaze. He looked at her.

“What is wrong?”

“I…should not be doing this,” she whispered. “If my master finds out…”

He gently cupped her chin and forced her to look up at him. “Do you feel that this is right?” he asked gently but with all seriousness. “Do you wish to do this? Do you wish to live? You may never get this chance again.”

She listened carefully. Her mind screamed at her not to, but her heart was screaming at her to do it. She did not answer right away, and he waited patiently. She finally nodded. “Yes, I feel this is right. I wish to live.”

He smiled gently, and she smiled back. He bent his neck and she stretched hers. Their noses touched, and she found herself trembling with excitement and fear. They rubbed the sides of their noses together, and they shared small chuckles. He bent his neck more and tilted his head slightly, his lips brushing hers. He opened his mouth, and she instinctively opened hers. He pulled her closer to him, and her hand found the back of his neck. They continued to kiss each other passionately, their bodies pressed against each others tightly, their lips pressed hard. The kiss shifted from urgency, to curiosity, to gentleness, and back to urgency.

They pulled back in unison to take a breath. They barely had to nudge each other to begin the kiss anew. Once more their bodies pressed together, and their mouths opened and closed in steady rhythms. He held her close to him, and she rubbed the back of his neck slowly. Her movement caused him to kiss harder, and she responded with a harder kiss of her own. His pants and her pants ruffled together annoyingly, and they both thought in the hazes that were their minds that their clothes were more a nuisance than a necessity. They both thought that they would be warmer without them. More comfortable.

With their bodies still pressed together, he led her towards the spare bed. She followed willingly. At fist they sat there, hugging and kissing each other lovingly. But they got into a more comfortable position on the bed. He entwined one leg around hers, and she did not protest. His hand now moved. His long pale fingers slowly, teasingly, went up from her waist and up her back. Then they journeyed around her neck and down her chest, to her stomach, to her hip, her thigh. Her skin jumped and twitched at the electric pulls of his fingers. She pressed her body more against his, wanting to be closer to him.

“Are you sure you wish to do this?” he asked, his voice having grown low and husky.

She stared deeply into his yellow eyes, and she nodded. “Yes.”

He smiled, but it was no longer the warm and gentle smile. It was a cold and cruel smile belonging to a vampire. She realized that she had been seduced by him, and now it was too late. She had become too entangled in the spider's web and now could not escape. She could not do anything except watch as he was soon upon her and tearing off her only protection.