Authors: Bre Faucheux
Madison could never recall Jayden’s blood being particularly appetizing. The thought of tasting another creature’s blood like herself did not appeal to her. But this man seemed to feel like this was an act of conquering her. Taking her blood within him was proving her defeat as she lay before him.
She felt him look at her again. He took the chain from behind her head, drenched in blood from her scalp. He ripped it from the back of her head, pulling a reasonable amount of her hair with it. He removed the chain from her mouth and unwrapped it from her jaw line, tossing it aside. Her skin slowly began to heal, but not before pushing out the small barbs that remained lodged into her skin. She refused to scream or groan in pain, knowing that he would only enjoy hearing it. She merely waited for her body to do what it did naturally. Her mouth, gums, and skin healed, but the agony continued in her arms and hands. The chain was somehow attached to her legs. With each movement below her chest, it tightened into her skin. She didn’t allow herself to move anything below her waistline, only her head and mouth were free. As soon as she was able, she turned her head upward to witness her attacker. The disbelief she had experienced at realizing that these men were just like her was nothing compared to the shock she felt now.
Caspar was looking at her directly in the eyes with obvious curiosity. He suspected that she wouldn’t recognize him at first sight.
“Ascot, at your service madam,” he said, not taking his eyes off of her.
“You turned those men,” she said.
“You cannot be serious? Those are your first words to me?” he responded. “I was half expecting you to be interested by my survival.”
“Lyndon told me that you live. And what you have done,” she said with disgust.
“What I have done, madam? No, what
we
have done.”
She stopped only a second to consider what he said. “We?”
“Lyndon was as complicit as I. Did you think I was alone in a desire to know how it was done?” His voice mirrored Jayden’s in a likeness of arrogance. But Caspar’s had an edge that Jayden never did. Jayden never viewed her with hatred.
“Lyndon tried to stop you,” she said.
“No, Lyndon felt responsible for what we did. He found means to turn people as a way to avoid them dying. Trust me, it would not have happened had he divulging the small detail that our stream had been poisoned continuously for months, or that that you and Jayden had fed us blood while we were ill. I being too weak at the time to recall, did not know of this. In that lay the reason why those I tried to create kept dying.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“Months of exposure to our blood through the waters, then taking of blood from humans during the period of illness, completes the process, child. This is what happened to us, don’t you know? The natives poisoned our waters with their witchery, then you and your companion, Jayden was it? Yes, you two fed Lyndon and me blood from the natives during the illness. Others from our voyage died because they did not feed on blood as we did. Now if Lyndon had told me of this, perhaps all could have been avoided. For I have no memory of it. I do however remember you biting me.”
“How many have you changed?” she said harshly.
“I truly find it fascinating that you are more concerned with what I have done than what is to become of you. No ‘why am I here?’, or ‘what is to be done with me, Caspar?’”
Madison hardly bothered listening to his banter as he went on. “The rayen,” she said softly, laying her head down on the stone under her.
“Yes, the rayen,” he said rather irritated.
“Lyndon left a trail of it for me to find, did he not? In order to lead me to you, was it?”
“Yes, indeed he did. He sensed you and Jayden as you crossed over to France.”
“He meant for me to find you, and now what? You intend to poison more waters with my blood?”
“You think yourself that important, do you? No, Lyndon and I wanted you and that ogre companion of yours gone from this earth. I imagine Lyndon has done away with Jayden by now. The mere intention was to separate the two of you. Lyndon seemed to think it best that he and I were the only ones. I thought for a while that he may have felt guilt for the two of us causing this plague. It started with only trying to change a few, I assure you. But the illness spread so rapidly through the waters. We could not stop it.”
“Could you not remember how quickly it made our people sick? Were you that dense?” she said.
He looked away from her, shaking his head. “I only sought to be rid of you both, but Lyndon saw some better purpose in it. He assumed that you and Jayden had spread the illness in the north, but I knew better. He thought he was helping by killing you and Jayden.”
“Then why turn more?”
“Why not?” He looked at her as if it were so evident.
“You truly have no other reasons than you did it because you could,” she said. She refused to believe that anyone could be that psychotic.
“Well, I think that you can agree that they make excellent guards, do they not?”
“Now that I do believe,” she said.
“They were able to catch you quick enough.” He placed his hand behind her head and stroked her hair. Madison welcomed the gesture. She wanted to know his true emotions. She doubted that he realized this made it easier for her to do so. But then again, Lyndon had grown to know things about their change that she hadn’t.
“Why did you change your name,” she asked. In truth, she couldn’t care less. But it might occupy his mind long enough for her to search for his true intentions.
He shrugged and caressed the back of her head. She knew that it was a gesture of defeat all over again. He was letting her know that she was in his hands for him to do as he pleased.
“Some pitiful man named Ascot in the north has been capturing Jews and burning them for having brought the plague about. I assumed his name and did the same, as I’m sure you can hear above us. The people here are frightened of the illness coming to them, which it certainly will. They needed a savior of sorts to find the guilty who caused the illness,” he said sarcastically.
“The irony,” she said dryly. Madison’s face contorted in such a way that almost made Caspar smile. Her disgust radiated from her body.
“All those people upstairs, then?” she said. “I could hear them from the streets.”
“Oh, don’t be that way. Someone had to take the blame. Don’t you know that someone must
always
be at fault?”
Madison shook his hand away from her head, causing the spikes around her wrists to tighten. She let out a small cry unable to stop it from leaving her mouth.
“It’s actually perfect that you arrived early this morning. You can be placed with the others. You will not have long to wait.”
Madison looked up at him, still grunting from the pain now coursing through her arms.
“It might be best in fact if you are to go first,” he said before standing up to leave. “It seems only right that we started this entire mess. One of our kind should be sacrificed. These people deserve to see one of our own burned for their pain.”
“I will be sure that they are granted that satisfaction before you get the chance,” said Madison, her voice full of anger. She knew that Caspar could feel her rage radiating from her emotions. He merely laughed as the chained door was pulled and he left the cell, his newly formed ‘guards’ following him. One stayed behind just to stare at her as she writhed in pain.
She wasn’t at all certain whether or not she could take on all these changed men to escape. They had easily overtaken her. She wouldn’t let that happen again.
The cries above Madison died down after a few minutes. She could only think as she heard footsteps from the dungeon being led up the stone steps that the people were being led to their death. She was relieved to not hear their pain, but even more distressed to know the screams that would soon follow. Trying to lengthen her hearing to the outskirts of the city, she was surprised to find no one crying out in joy for the people being tortured to death. Nor were there continuous cries from those being tormented. Caspar had said that she would be first. But she couldn’t imagine why the others had been led out before her. Perhaps so they could be set aside to witness what was soon to happen to her.
The more Madison tried to loosen her constraints, the tighter they pulled. She wanted to kill Caspar for having put her in this contraption. She looked up to see the guard, expecting him to react to her trying to break loose. But he was no longer there. With all the commotion going on upstairs and trying to hear what was happening outside the cathedral’s dungeon, she hadn’t even noticed that he had left. Her loss of knowing what was right in front of her was almost as upsetting as what was coming.
It was then that she heard three sets of feet coming down the narrow stone staircase she had been carried down. The chain began to move and the needled dungeon doorway lifted upwards. The cloaked men stepped inside. One said something to other in their language. They were all Caspar’s creations, but they were not as in tune with their abilities as she was. She easily seeped into their auras. They were seemingly nervous about something, but she couldn’t decipher what it was.
She lay on the cold stone floor. Blood from her mouth stained her matted hair and porcelain skin. They released her from the spiked chain around her wrist and tied to her ankles. She fully intended to try to run as soon as she was released from it, and yet she knew this wouldn’t be possible. If any memory from the past hour served her well, it was the feeling of her skin being ripped apart when the contraption was removed from her mouth and jawline. She couldn’t focus on anything but her hands and ankles as the device was removed. The removal of it was considerably worse than having it placed on. Her skin had tried to heal over the spikes, leaving little to her imagination as to what had happened when they tore it from her body.
She was brought to her feet from under her shoulders. The force used to pick her up made her feel like a doll as she swayed from side to side. Her ankles were still pushing the spikes and splinters from her skin when they expected her to stand. Rather than giving her a moment to recover they lead her out of the cell. Her feet scrambled to find stability. One hand gripped her firmly from under her shoulder and balanced her weight out. Although, she was less than grateful for the gesture, as his grip was far too firm for comfort.
She finally got a lo
ok at her surroundings. She hadn’t been allowed that before when she was carried over this man’s shoulder. The dungeon was dark and the scent of spilled blood was in each cell. She knew that these men were having a difficult time of it. Unlike her, their cravings were still far from being under control. They got her through the dark stoned cell as quickly as they could manage, only slowing down to a human like pace once they reached the cathedral above. She was taken to the altar at the front where Caspar stood awaiting them. Madison looked up and around as he stood before her. She marveled at the height of the building. If God truly did reside in houses of such magnitude, he was undoubtedly richer than biblical portrayals had ever painted him.
They held her in front of him, as if she were being presented for a feast. One man behind her ripped the cloak from her back and left her in nothing but her white tunic and dress. It was still stained from the mud and dirt of Roman streets. She felt her hair cascade loosely down her back and cover her blood stained waist. The fabric touched nearly every inch of her skin, and yet she still felt completely exposed.
Madison was greeted with the sense of desperation. It was coming from Caspar. He was nervous. Something had gone wrong. His thirst was so strong that it nearly overpowered any other emotions coming from his aura.
The guards spoke to Caspar. Madison could tell that it was some kind of excuse that they were giving. As if it was not their fault. But she had yet to learn what
it
was.
“My men here say that you were still bound by chains when they found you,” he said coarsely, “so you had nothing to do with this.” Caspar examined his hand as he spoke. He gestured as though he were some sort of nobleman. He would only look at her with the reverence of a common criminal. When he finally glanced in her direction, he stared just below her eyes.